#I miss him... I really hope he doesn't die... ever...

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Girl a03 is NOT your friend rn i'm so sorry i'll be waiting for when it returns to you i miss you we can double yap here and there🤍

Dean you are the most down bad man in the history of down bad men. Personal favorite phenonmenon of his: getting jealous of himself with Princess. Loser (affectionate)

I would say you can never be TOO fixated on anything i say :)

Princess could not think of Dean's balls without being an Horny Mess™️ she's be flushing parted lips hitched breath if Dean mentioned them.

🤍🤍🤍:)

Dean living in the delusion that he could ever possibly tell princess no.

HE'S NOT PURPOSEFULLY DOING IT HE'S JUST. LETTING IT HAPPEN TO HIM.

He's a genius (he doesn't even know it😔)

they're missing their girl :(

Dad come pick me up im scared

i mean. Cas is also famously in his "bad choices" era. and you gotta trust.

thank u.

no cas is making bad choices but he as also just a baby. he's the feral cat i.fear.

Dude if she got home and dean was dead she'd strangle Chuck with her bare hands.

Can you say "foreshadowing!"

HI MOM !!! I WANT U TO PICK ME UP TOO!!

women 🤍

john winchester i hope u die again.

bro they ain't having dream sex yet dean doesn't even know she's a virgin

THEY DO!!!!! princess thinks his bi panic is the funniest thing in the world btw

it makes sense🤍

Chuck's current number one op is a depressed 31 year old dork that's hotter than he is.

he really is getting revenge. just wait until princess is back with them

Sam i love u

THANK YOUUUU🤍🤍🤍🤍

dean in his hound dog era

BABY SAMMYYYYYYYY I WILL FREE U FROM JOHN

John. i'm gonna kill you again.

THEY'RE JUST BABIES!!!!!!!!!! dean crashes out about her in every universe

Sam is out for blood i fear

Dean. i love u.

heheheheheheh✨secrets✨

HEHEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHE✨SECRETS✨

She is a queen i fear.

we're not! (right now)

you're gonna love the next chapter.

SEVEN WHOLE KISSES?? IN TEN YEARS??? SLUTS!

:) i told you im cooking thank youuuuuu🤍🤍🤍

PLEASE TRUST I'M NOT GONNA DO THAT THEY HAVE PLENTY OF ANGST AS IS

you nailed the princess line. that's it. and i'll give you the dean one as well because it was 'blue chicken' i just think it's very dean and so silly of him. what would u like for prize🤍

Chapter 31 - It All Comes Around

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Okay you guys know I hate saying something is my favorite in case you hate it, but this chapter has two of my favorite lines of dialogue so far. One for Dean, one for our girl. If you guess one, you can... idk do the bonus chapter thing again. Enjoy!

Chapter Title from The Unknown by Imagine Dragons

Word Count: 19.9k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Dean has a weird week. Usual Warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff, pining, action

Chapter 30 - Chapter 32

Read on A03!

Dec. 17th - 2010

Princess, 

You’d be pissed at me right now. That was the kind of thing you’d be pissed at me about. Knew that going it. Kinda always know it, if i’m telling you the truth. I hate it when you cry or get mad, but sometimes there’s a middle where you’re just glaring at me, and it’s adorable. You don’t get that wrinkle in your brow, but your nose scrunches and you say Dean like

Guess I can’t do an impression of it on the paper. Imagine you can hear me saying Dean, but it’s in my voice, pretending to be you. If you’re confused, just come find the me that’s with you now, and he’ll show you. 

Son of a bitch, I hope there’s a me with you. Lucky asshole. He loves you too, so you know. He’s me, and he’s not gonna say it out loud very well, but he loves you. I love you. Always love you. All the way down.

That’s why I did the stupid thing. I’m not gonna write it down, cause if I do, you’ll stop reading and go beat up future me. But he did it for the same reason I did. So don’t be too pissed at him. Me. 

Forgive me. That’s why I’m trying to get out here. Please fucking forgive me, for everything. The stupid thing. Everything I did while you were gone. Letting you fall in the cage. I’m so fucking sorry, Princess, but you gotta forgive me. But you were gone, and it hurt. Still hurts, right now. 

I guess it doesn’t hurt for future me. If he gave these to you, that means he got you back. Douchebag. Probably gets to kiss you too. I’ve kissed you. Six times. I’ll do it more, if you let me. I’d do whatever you let me do. Nothing means more than you, baby, you gotta know that. If future me is being an asshole and hasn’t told you that, I’m telling you now. Everything he does is for you. That’s how much he fucking loves you.

Fuck, there probably isn’t a thing you could do that he wouldn’t let you get away with. He’s been a goner for years. Punch him in the balls for me, if he hasn’t told you. Then you can show me this, so I know I told you to do that. But don’t do it too hard. He still wants a future with you, and probably values his balls more than I do. 

He probably values a hell of a lot more than me, if he’s got you back. 

And it’s not your fault, baby. I know you, I know you’re gonna read this and start thinking that you messed something up. Maybe go sit next to future me, so he can calm you down if you start freaking out. You don’t have to do anything to make me feel better, ever. If I’ve got you, I know everything is good. Just let him take care of you. It’s all he’s ever wanted to do. 

It’s been you from the start, sweetheart. And I did something stupid, but you need to forgive me because it’s getting dark out here. I miss you, and I need you to tell me what the hell to do. How I’m supposed to get you back without doing something stupid. Whatever got Sammy out isn’t doing an encore, Cas still won’t pick up the damn phone, and Bobby’s a little better, but he ain’t good. None of us are good without you.

I’ve been having these new dreams, about you. Have I mentioned that I dream about you? I do. They stopped for a while, but they’re back now. Different from before, but back. In one of them, we were just one of those normal couples. We worked and had a house, visited your dad on weekends, had a dog and a cat.

I’ll let you get that cat, if you come home soon. The one Cas never got to give you. Shit, I’ll help him pick it out. We’ll get you a cute one, I’ll get those allergy meds you mentioned, and it can stay at Bobby’s. But it can’t sleep on the bed. I’m not fighting for your attention with a fucking cat, sweetheart.

Sam says I’m bargaining. But he’s also an asshole still, cause of the soul blocker thing. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about, just because he took one psych class at Stanford. And even if I am bargaining, nothing wrong with that. Whatever the hell gets you back, right?

You need to come back, baby. I can get a whole lot stupider. 

Yours, 

DAW

——————

Dean dropped his head against the table—squeezing his eyes shut as he gritted his teeth—and took a long, deep breath. 

He finished the letter. That’s what was important. 

There wasn’t even a single bloodstain on it, because he’d washed his freaking hands. 

There was blood leaking through his shirt, though.

He should probably deal with that, before he lost all of it and had to deal with another lecture from Sam about this behavior not being useful, Dean.

Easy for Sam to say. He hadn’t lost anything. And anything that he should’ve lost, he didn’t give a shit about anymore. His soul. All their goddamn peace. 

Her. 

Sam still didn’t seem to give a shit that they’d lost Her. 

And Dean was trying real damn hard not to be pissed about that. Sam didn’t know how things like emotions worked anymore. Just couldn’t grasp that the most important person in both of their lives—the woman who had believed in him through the whole demon blood thing, and kept them from fighting countless times—was stuck in hell. That they needed to get her out, because otherwise Dean was going to start doing some pretty fucking dumb things.

Dumber things. 

He’d already done something pretty fuck dumb. 

And it hadn’t even had the nerve to goddamn work.

Dean folded the letter into a neat square, and left it on the table as he pushed to his feet with a groan. This was going to suck. This was going to suck so goddamn much, but he couldn’t call Sam back from his hookup just to give him stitches. Sam would have questions like are you an idiot, Dean—yes—and how they hell did you get your stomach ripped open. It looks like you didn’t even fight back. 

He hadn’t. 

Dean had let the demons rip into him. There wasn’t any reason not to. The plan had failed anyway.  

And this was why he needed Her. This was Her type of plan—the insane ones, that nearly gave Dean a heart attack whenever She looked at him with bright eyes and said I’ve got something—and Her ability to calculate the risks and danger to herself might be horrible, but she got results. 

Dean had just got the shit beaten out of him, and nothing else. She wasn’t home. He wasn’t closer to getting Her home. He just had a goddamn pit in the cavity of his chest, splitting him open, and a gash in his side.

He made it to the bed. Sam’s bed. Bitch wasn’t using it anyway, he’d deal with the blood stains. 

And there was a whole lot of blood. Maybe the shallow breathing was from the way he was bleeding out, or just how he was thinking about Hell. The rivers of blood, and all of it on his hands. 

Her, drowning in that blood. Stuck in the place that had turned Dean into more of a monster than he’d already been. Or just somewhere worse, if the damage to Sam’s soul said anything. 

Maybe She was out. Maybe whatever got Sam grabbed Her too, but Cas couldn’t find her because of the Bride thing, and now She was curled up and shivering and alone. Waiting for Dean to come save Her, while he ran around like a fucking asshole. Trying plans that didn’t work, touching women he didn’t love just to feel something, drinking and drinking until he was numb enough to breathe. 

He wasn’t numb now. 

Son of a bitch, between the way the pit was swallowing him whole and the sting of the rubbing alcohol on his wound, there wasn’t enough booze in the world to make him feel nothing. 

He needed to lie down. Half for the stitches, half because if he didn’t, he was pretty damn sure he’d fall over and start sobbing like a pussy. 

Dean clenched his jaw, lay flat on his back, and got to work. His hands weren’t steady, but he could patch himself up. Enough for it to look like a normal hunting accident, at least. 

Enough that nobody would try and ask questions, and lecture him about self-destructive behaviors.  

He tried to hum to himself, to calm down. Ramble On, then Hey Jude, the just fucking anything to fill the silence when he couldn’t carry either of the tunes. If he closed his eyes tight enough, he could pretend She was there with him. That these were Her hands, and the static sound of the heater was Her siren-like voice. Telling Dean it would be okay. That She was here, and everything was going to be okay. 

He could almost believe it. When he really goddamn focused, the smell of blood and dirt faded, and he could smell Her apples. Her voice on the wind was less of a phantom, and more of an echo. A little far away, and not really Her, but closer. Had been Her before. Would be Her again. And he could pretend that when he wiped the sweat from his brow, it was a gentle hand brushing through his hair. That the warm feeling in his chest wasn’t more than a reflection of what had been there before. That he wasn’t using smoke and mirrors to pretend the pit was flooding with silvery light, and when he turned his head into the mattress and took a deep breath, he wasn’t just lying to his own mind that he was breathing against Her skin. 

He might be groaning Her name. He didn’t really care anymore.

He just wanted Her to be here. 

And She wasn’t. 

When Dean pulled the last stitch through, he opened his eyes, and there was nobody at all. 

He tipped his head back with a groan. He just needed to lie down, for one second. Then he’d get back to work. Start looking for new ways—maybe ones that didn’t get him beat up,  but he didn’t really care—and maybe that cat. Maybe it was what he needed, just an incentive for Her to come back to him. He’d get Her five cats. Ten, and rent a house on a beach. Maybe Cape Cod. Pretty damn far from California, still the beach. They could get all the sugary drinks and snacks She wanted, then lie in bed for a week. 

He’d watch whatever movie She wanted. Read a book for Her. Do fucking anything, just as long as She came home-

There was a rustling sound, and Dean let out a heavy breath, opening his eyes to glare at the cracked ceiling. He should’ve known better than thinking he’d get away with that. 

“Cas. You gotta knock.”

“You wouldn’t be able to open the door, Dean.” Cas’ voice was low, and filled a tension Dean didn’t appreciate. Cas wasn’t the one who had been dying. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll live.” He muttered, craning his neck to see Cas staring at him from the edge of the bed. “That it?”

“You know it is not-“

“Awesome.” He dropped his head back down. “See you next time you decide I’m injured enough to check in on.”

Cas sighed. “You know I am busy, Dean, I do not enjoy not talking to you-“

“But you only do it when I’m bleeding out.”

“You bleed out quite often, lately.” Cas muttered, and Dean rolled his eyes, pushing his words through his teeth.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Cas, I don’t got a whole lot going on for me other than bleeding out. So if we could skip the telling me I’m a freakin’ idiot part and cut to what you want-“

“I do not want anything, Dean. And I would not call you an idiot.” Cas said Her name, his voice suddenly soft, and Dean’s hand curled into fists. “She would be angry. That you are doing this for her. I do not think she’d like any plan that gets you hurt like this.”

Dean was going to break his jaw. “Don’t tell me what she’d want-“

“You know I’m right.” Cas’ voice was gentle, and it just made the ache in Dean’s chest worse. “She would not be happy to know that you have been on this path-“

“What path.” Dean rolled his eyes, leaning back down on the mattress. “The one where I get her the hell out of the cage? I’m not apologizing for trying to save her, Cas-“

“Dean,” Cas muttered, but Dean shook his head, and pushed on. 

“I won’t give up- No, I can’t give up. She didn’t give up on me, and we didn’t even know about angels or all her magic shit. If Death himself can’t goddamn touch her, that means there’s gotta be something up here that needs her, which means there’s going to be some sort of fucking loophole. Some- Fuck, there has to be some goddamn way-“ His head hurt, and it was spread to his throat. He wouldn’t stop. “Son of a bitch, Cas, there has to be a way-“

He had more to say. About how the world had to need Her, because he’d seen the way it bended for Her. How all colors were vibrant around Her, and the grass seemed to grow under Her feet. He’d seen the gardens She’d make, he knew God himself watched Her and wanted her the same way Dean, so if God needed Her like Dean needed Her, there had to be a way.

And if there wasn’t a way, he’d make one. She said there was always another way, so he’d take whatever gamble he had to, if it might get Her home. If it might fix Sammy, might bring a light back to Bobby’s eyes, might make the house stop being so damn quiet and haunted all the time. The floorboards creaked louder without Her. The night was darker. And nothing was how it should be, without Her there. 

But the words died in Dean’s throat. If he said them, the pit would turn into a cavern, and it would be all he was. He’d break apart, and none of Cas’ angel mojo would fix him.

“There may be another way, Dean.” Cas murmured, and Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “But this is not it. That was reckless, and I believe you know that.”

“Doesn’t matter what I know.” Dean grunted. “I’d call that the right amount of recks for this situation.”

“You tried to open a seal, Dean.”

“Didn’t try. Opened it.”

Cas let out another dramatic sigh. “You do understand how that isn’t comforting. I do not approve of Crowley’s methods to deter you, but-“

“You actually siding with freakin’ Crowley here?” Dean glared at Cas under his eyelids. “He sent a bunch of demon goons to kick the shit out of me-“

“And you are lucky they didn’t kill you, Dean. I know what you are planning, and if you proceed with it, I will have to stop you-“

Dean muttered Her name, and Cas fell silent. “She’s down there, Cas. Down there with Michael and Lucifer, in God’s fuckin’ time out corner.”

“I am aware,” Cas muttered, and Dean snorted. 

“I’d think you are, but you’re willing to leave her down there-“

“Dean, you know I’m not-“

“I don’t know!” He roared, ignoring the rush of pain through his head as he shot up. “You can say that, Cas, but you don’t gotta live with it like I do! I’m doing what I have to do, I’m doing the only goddamn way I can think of, because she is down there alone with two archangels, and she needs us to get her out, but I’m the only one who’s goddamn willing to fucking do something.”

Cas stared at him for a second. “She would not want you to open the cage, just for her-“

“Stop saying what she’d want.” Dean hissed. “If she hates it, she can tell me herself. When she’s free.”

“Dean.” Cas gave him a sad look, and Dean’s throat ached. “Crowley will continue to attack you. His position as King only lasts as long as Lucifer remains in the cage-“

“I don’t give a shit about Crowley-“

“I am not worried about Crowley.” Cas snapped, voice raising and narrowing his eyes. “I am worried about him killing you, Dean. And Raphael holding your soul hostage. You cannot help her when you are dead.”

Dean scowled, and a lot of the anger was starts to drain from his body. His muscles felt sore, every inch of his body tired, and he might have fucked up his stitches. It didn’t really damn matter. He’d failed. Again. Gotten the shit kicked out of him, gotten yelled at by Cas, and he wasn’t a single step closer to getting Her back. 

He’d dream of Her, tonight. He always dreamt of Her, smiling at him like he’d never done anything wrong at all. Like all the sins he’d committed were nothing more than stumbled steps, like he’d never lied to Her or let Her get hurt. Never hurt Her himself, because everything he touched turned to fucking sand in his hands. And She’d been the most precious thing of them all, made of life and light and dancing in the dead of night, and he’d just let Her slip away. 

It didn’t matter how hard he swam against the current, trying to get Her back. She’d never been Dean’s to begin with. And when God pulled Her out and took Her to Heaven, She shouldn’t looked back. Heaven was what She deserved.

But there would be no place for a Shadow. 

It would be better that way. He was being fucking selfish, wanting Her all to himself. To touch and love and kiss until She giggled and squirmed in his arms. He’d always known he’d never be worthy of Her. And Christ, he was doing all he could be wrong. But no scale was tipped in his favor. And there’s no world where She looked at Dean—acting without thinking, reeking of booze and lonely sex—and decides that she’d have him over paradise.

But he didn’t know how to do any of this without Her. 

He was a selfish son of a bitch. 

It didn’t matter if he never got Her back.

Dean’s head bowed, breathing heavy as he tried to keep the pit from opening further, from taking whatever last vital organ was still cruelly keeping him alive, and it didn’t matter. 

A choked, low sound left him, and nothing mattered.  

Two fingers pressed to his brow, and the splitting headache faded with the stabbing pain in his stomach. The pain in his chest didn’t heal, though.

When he looked up at Cas, standing over him with a soft, almost wounded expression, it only stretched a little further, and made the world a little darker. 

“I miss her as well,” Cas muttered, scanning over Dean’s face carefully. “Things are… Far worse. When she is not here. There is a sense, wherever I go, that something is missing. It is…” Cas trailed off, frowning at the air. “As if my wings have been cut off, though they are very much still there.”

“Human’s call that grief,” Dean said under his breath, dropping his gaze to his own knees. “That’s what’s you’re feelin’, Cas. But she’s not dead-“

“She is not with us.” Cas murmured. “And if my wings feel as if they are missing, I can only imagine what you are experiencing.”

Dean didn’t answer. He didn’t have the words for it, not one that would sound right. It wasn’t like a part of him was missing, or as he’d just been cut in half. That would’ve been far too simple, too easy to get past. 

It was like he was missing. Like he’d been plunged underwater, dragged away from the entire world, and it was just above the surface but no matter how he clawed to get back to it, he was never able to breach the waves.

And Cas sighed, taking a slight step back. “I do not expect you to give up on her, Dean. But you cannot do that again.”

“I won’t.” He grunted, and if he was stronger, he’d just damn the consequences, damn his own soul, and open the cage to get Her back. Cas said Raphael wanted to start the apocalypse again, Dean could get a sponsorship or something. 

But She’d never forgive him, when She got out. She’d curse his name, and Dean would lose Her all the same. 

Selfish. 

It didn’t matter. 

“Thank you. I am handling it, Dean. I promise.” 

Dean frowned at him. “It?”

“Crowley.” Not Her. “He will not touch you like that again, and I will work to try and make him…” Cas sighed. “Calm down. But I cannot handle Crowley, Raphael, and you making stupid, unmeasured choices.”

“I said I wouldn’t do it,” Dean grumbled, taking at deep breath as he scanned over Cas’ face. 

He looked tired. Worn, will parts of his trench coat stained with things Dean didn’t really want to know about. 

“Cas.” He muttered, words still low. “You know we can help, man. If there’s anything with the Heaven shit you need-“

“No, Dean.” Cas shook his head. “I told you, I am handling it. I have support.”

“Support?”

“Other angels. Who have chosen my side.”

Dean frowned. Something about that sounded off. Cas wasn’t blinking at all, but that was normal. His voice was firm and deep, but that was also normal. Cas was pretty hard to read, no matter what. And Dean’s own exhaustion wasn’t helping. 

“You got anything for us?” He tried one more time, and the soreness was giving way to tension. “Just- a hunt? Any way we can help you gank Raphael faster?”

Cas shook his head, and Dean took an unsteady breath. He couldn’t keep doing nothing. Looking for another way to get her out and coming up empty handed. Maybe this would help. Maybe just one hunt that amounted to more than broken bones and the smell of gasoline would get him back on track. He’d get all his energy back, find whatever angel thing Cas sent them to take care of, and it would be the way to get Her out. 

Or maybe he’d just get the shit beat out of him again. 

Either way, he wouldn’t just be waiting for Her to appear in the bathroom doorway, or moaning Her name while he fucked some nameless chick. He’d be doing something.

“Dean-“

“C’mon, man.” Dean gave Cas his best winning grin, ignoring how his face felt sort of swollen from crying. “Give us something. I get you’re a big shot angel now, but there’s gotta be like, an errand me and Sam can run for you. Help in this war with Raphael thing.”

“I do not have any errands. And in your current state, I don’t think involving yourself in my war would prove useful.”

“Cas.” He muttered, letting his voice crack slightly. He couldn’t just sit here, in the pit. He’d fall into it, and not have Her light to guide him back out. “Fuck, I’ve got my foot on the pedal, man. I know that. At least give me somewhere to steer.”

Cas paused, watching Dean so intently he could feel in searing over his skin, and he needed this to work. For Cas to see that he wasn’t just begging like a bitch. He needed this. Otherwise, the place he drove might be off a goddamn cliff. 

And whatever Cas saw—as Dean let a little bit of the pit show all over his face—seemed to be enough.

“Fine.” He sighed. “But you have to be careful, Dean. No one in Heaven or Hell is your biggest fan right now-“

“I don’t care about them, Cas, I got you.” Dean grinned, and Cas didn’t return it.

“If you die,” Cas muttered Her name. “She will break out of the cage, just to kill me. And,” he shot Dean a glare. “That is not a suggestion. You will have to be careful, Dean-“

“I will be. What’re we lookin’ at?”

Cas sighed again, frowning at the air as he spoke “I have sources that tell me Crowley is looking for something. Something powerful. I am not sure what, but if you must do something, figuring out what would be helpful.”

“What Crowley’s looking for?”

Cas nodded, and Dean sat up a little taller. 

Finding something. He could find something. He’d always smoked Sammy at hide and seek, and he was a pretty awesome snooper. Cas left—with another warning to Dean not to do something stupid, which wasn’t really necessary—and Dean had something to do. 

In the morning. When Sam got back, and he could use the next day to actually be useful, instead of a drunken, selfish burden. 

But maybe this was selfish as well. Maybe he should be spending time trying to think of the next plan to get Her out, instead of running around doing shit Cas could probably do himself. That might get done faster, with a handful of angels on the case rather than Dean. 

Or She’d be pissed at him, for not helping Cas. She’d help Cas. Shit, if She was here, Cas might have already won the war in Heaven. 

But She wasn’t. Here. 

Wasn’t with Dean. 

And he would get Her back. As he took the letter off the table, carefully tucking it into the box—kept at the bottom of his bag, right next to Velma the stuffed cat—Dean had to remember that he kept writing because She would come back. And he’d give Her the letters, and everything would be fine. 

Right now it wasn’t. Right now it was like sitting in some sort of stasis, downing the last of the whiskey bottle he’d gotten at the bar, staring at the ceiling and trying to work out how he’d get through the day. 

Thinking of Her, probably. Not the pain She might be in, but how the better moments. Her on his chest as they slept, or under Dean’s body as he kissed Her softly.

He didn’t know if he’d ever get to kiss Her again.

The bottle was empty. The motel room was empty, and there wouldn’t be any more company for him tonight. He didn’t see that hallucination of Her anymore, not since late September. It didn’t matter if he was wasted enough he didn’t know his own name—only the pain in his chest and the lack of Her at his side—Dean just couldn’t get Her back. 

He couldn’t get Her back.

It would be good to help Cas. Cas had helped him, and Dean had pleaded for it. But the longer Cas was gone—the longer it was just Dean and the rattling sound of the heater—the more he wanted to just fucking damn it. If he couldn’t get the seals and open the cage, he’d find another way. Death wouldn’t help, but maybe another archangel could. Maybe there was some sort of Cage guard, that could slip her out. Maybe another spell he could try, a back entrance he could use.

But Bobby had looked for all of that, and there wasn’t a single damn thing. 

He’d find something. And Crowley was looking for something powerful. Maybe he’d been right the first time, and this would help him get on track to free Her. 

Or maybe She’d just get out some other way tomorrow, and think that Dean had given up on Her.

He felt sort of sick. He was way too damn tired to be trying to figure this out. His head was spinning, and it felt like his heart was withering in his body. He couldn’t sleep. It didn’t matter how he paced around the room, sat and stared at the laptop screen, or lay on the bathroom floor. The bed was too stiff, too cold, and when he stretched his arms out a new, straining pain—just to the right of his heart—ripped through him at the empty mattress at his side.

He couldn’t sleep with a replacement, though. He hadn’t be able to stomach it, since the dreams of Her had started up. There was something fucking wrong about waking up with a passing body—some woman who had looked like Her in the shadows of the bar, enough for Dean to pretend, but then looked like a faded mockery in the morning light—when he’d just been holding Her in his sleep. When he’d spent the whole night dreaming of kissing Her and dancing in some old west saloon.

It made him feel something, at least. Something like poison, in his veins and eating at his hands. 

They shouldn’t be allowed to touch Her, when She returned. 

If She even wanted to touch him. 

She might, if he went through with helping Cas. He didn’t have a damn clue where to start, though. She would. So maybe he could get Her out first, then help Cas. Or he could keep wading through the mud, letting it drag him further under, and never actually save Her because he just kept wandering in damn circles. Or She’d think Dean wasn’t burning himself to ash to get Her out.

Dean pushed up with a groan, fumbling for his phone. He shouldn’t be trusted to make any choices, or even do any right now. Most of his thoughts just always looped back to Her.

The call rang about six or seven times, before it was picked up. 

If She was here, it would’ve been answered in three.

“Hey, Dean, everything alright?”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut again. “Hey Jody. Yeah, uh- Is Bobby there?”

Jody sighed. “Not here, no.” 

He paused. “But… his phone is?”

“He left it at the house. I was over to make some food, heard it ringing in the library.” 

“Where’d he go, town?”

“No.” Jody’s voice went heavier, and Dean braced himself. “He’s headed up to the waterfall, tending to that girl’s grave, said he’d be back in a few hours.”

A lump was forming in Dean’s throat. “He take the truck?”

“Um,” there was a pause, and Dean heard something shuffle on the other end of the line. “Don’t look like it. Firebird is gone, through.” Dean could hear the frown in her voice. “You boys need something from him? Anything I can help with?”

He shook his head, fighting down the strain in his voice. “Nah, I was just hoping to get his advice on something-“

“Something about hunting?” Jody cut him off, Her voice shockingly firm. “Or something about feelings and good choices. Cause if it’s the latter, I don’t think it’s a good for you and Bobby to be bouncing any ideas off of each other.”

Dean frowned. “It was hunting, sorta- What do you mean, not a good idea?”

“I mean you both lost the same person, Dean. And any calls either of you make, you’re not going to be making them with a clear head.”

“I got a clear head-“

“How much have you had to drink.”

He scowled. “That doesn’t matter.”

Jody barked a laugh. “Alright, kid. Tell what you think Bobby can help you with, and I’ll make the call if he needs to hear it.”

“Just a book.” Dean muttered. “For the library. It’s- I think she’d like it. Wanted to know if we already had it.”

Jody didn’t ask what she Dean was talking about. She’d seemed to pick up pretty quickly that when Dean or Bobby said she like that—a lower tone, with a slight edge to their voice but something smooth and gentle in the word itself—it was only referring to Her. And Dean had found Her a book, so that wasn’t technically a lie. It wasn’t what he’d called about, but it could be. 

Jody didn’t seem to believe that, though. 

“Dean,” she said, tone sort of stern, and Dean frowned. “I know you don’t like talking about your feelings, and I’m not trying to make you or whatever, but I know you didn’t call Bobby at 1am to talk about a book.”

“I-“ Dean frowned. “Why are you there at 1am?”

“Nice try. What’s wrong.”

Dean sighed, setting the phone to speaker and placing it on his knee. “It’s nothin’ important, Jody. I can talk to Sam about it, or call back in the morning-“

“If you’re calling now, it’s important. And don’t hang up on me, I’ll call you back until you pick up and tell me I’m not about to witness one of those hunter funerals y’all have talked about.”

“I’m not going to kill myself-“

“Dean.”

There was no winning this. And he had called for advice. 

Goddamnit. 

“Talked to Cas, today.” He muttered, fidgeting with his watch, and Jody just waited for him to continue. “Asked him about the war, going on in Heaven. How we could help. He said Crowley’s after something, and if we have to help, we could look into what.”

He could hear the frown in Jody’s voice. “If you have to help. He not want it or something?”

“I sorta- I asked him. A lot. I’m out of leads, for the cage. Last thing I tried went to shit, and I- Fucking-“ He rubbed his brow, trying to force his words out in a way that didn’t sound pathetic. “It still hurts, Jody. And I feel like I’m just sittin’ in it. And I damn near forced Cas to let me help, but then he’s gone and it’s all-“

He cut himself off, and son of a bitch it was a lot easier to talk about it when it was with Her, in letters. Dean wasn’t even sure there were words to describe it. The way the world was just worse, and the only way out of it was Her coming home. He kept trying, and it never felt like enough. 

“You know about my family, Dean?” 

He frowned, and grunted an acknowledgment. 

Jody let out a slow breath through the speaker. “You know how they died?”

“Jody, if this a lecture about grief or whatever, I’ve gotten enough of them-“

“Well shut up and hear one more.” Jody snapped Her name, and Dean mouth closed. “I don’t know a lot about her, expect that you and Bobby love her. That you’re willing to do anything to get her home. But you know what the definition of madness is?”

Dean paused. He did. She’d told him once, in some diner a few years ago.

He’d poked Her nose with a French fry after, and then she’d almost bit his fingers off. 

He loved Her so fucking much.

“Repeating something.” He grunted, and Jody sighed. 

“And expecting a different result, Dean. That’s important. All you do is drink and torture yourself while trying to get her out, you’ll go insane. And you think you’re of better use to her insane, or with a brain that’s actually working?”

“Working.”

“Good.” Jody sighed, and Dean slumped. “You get what I’m telling you?”

“Yeah.” He muttered. “Jody?”

She hummed, and he took a heavy breath. 

“I can’t stop trying to get her out. If I do- I- I can’t-“

“I know, Dean. I got that a while ago.” Jody said Her name, and the world was sort of blurring. “Doing one thing for your friend isn’t going to keep her in the cage longer. The break might be good of you. Focus on something with a reward at the end.”

Dean nodded, and Jody cleared her throat. 

“This helping?”

“Yeah.” He muttered. “Thanks. You think you can mention to Bobby that I called? Tell him we’re looking for something Crowley might want. Maybe to try and find some demons?”

“Course.” Jody’s voice went soft, but not the way Cas’ had been. That had been more in a reflection of Dean’s own pain. Almost pity, mixed with Cas’ own loss.

This was just soft. It made Dean feel sort of small, but not like he could be stepped on, or was weak. Like the sky was falling, but there was still going to be something to cover him, and keep him safe. 

“Let me know if you need anything else, Dean. I’m here.”

“Thanks.” He muttered. “Night, Jody.”

The line dropped, and he let out a slow breath. 

Something with a reward at the end. They’d find what Crowley was looking for, and—on down time—Dean could keep working on how to get Her home. He wasn’t abandoning Her. He’d never abandon Her.

He wasn’t sure how to do that if he tried. 

This place had really high ceilings. 

High like a church, but all stone and less light. Almost dead feeling, with how empty and quiet it was. Dean’s steps echoed, as he walked down the hall, hand on his sword. 

He had a sword. That was fucking awesome. He had a sword, and a suit of leather and metal armor, and whenever he passed the someone—all them women in long dresses or men in weird, fancy outfits—they bowed their heads in his direction. Like they respected him, enough to see he was there. 

This was a pretty great dream. If not just because he got a sword, because he’d had something like it before. And he knew exactly where he was going. 

His pace picked up, until he was almost sprinting through the halls. Nobody spared him a glance as he ran, but they were all fading into color anyway.

The only important thing was ahead of him, not behind.

When he skid around the corner and up the steps, he could almost feel it. The way something just to the right of his heart felt like it was glowing, and how time began to slow. 

The air smelled liked Eden apples, more and more every second. 

And there She was. Standing on a balcony and turning around Dean called Her name, her face splitting into a wide, bright smile. 

She looked like She was going to run to him, but Dean was faster. He slammed into Her, lifting Her up into the air and spinning her around with a grin so wide it hurt. When She laughed, he wanted to bottle the sound. Maybe put it on a mixtape, so back out there he could hear it over and over again. 

It would ring in his ears when he woke up. Follow him like a hungry stray, begging for Dean give it more attention when he tried to look away. But he’d let it. 

He’d do damn near anything, just to keep hearing the sound of Her joy. 

She wrapped Her arms around his neck, as he set Her down, and Dean crashed his lips into Her’s. She tasted like Her apples, and a little bit of cherry and soda. When he reached down for Her thigh, She let him grab it and hook it around his waist. Moaned into Dean’s mouth like a song, when he angled his mouth over Her’s to deepen the kiss.

And She was entirely relaxed in Dean’s arms. Letting him move Her however he needed to feel Her a little more, tugging on his hair as She whined a sound like his name, and he felt his pants grow tight. 

He had to pull back, with heavy breaths and a high feeling over his head. Still holding Her tight to his chest, because She’d stay there until he was forced to let go. 

She let out a soft, breathy laugh, ghosting Her lips back over Dean’s, and he grinned.

“Hey, Princess.” He said, bumping their noses together, and Her eyes shined on his. 

A little glossy, but still so fucking bright.

“Dean.” She whispered, and he’d never not lose it over how She said it. Long and sweet and sort of like it was a note in a song. “You shouldn’t be kissing me like that in daylight. Someone could see.”

He snorted, dropped his mouth to Her neck. “Let ‘em. Everyone should know how I worship my girl.”

“But-“ She made a tiny noise as Dean lips latched on Her throat. “Oh- Dean-“

He hummed, and She took a deep breath. 

“I- It won’t be good if someone catches us-“ She moaned as he kneaded Her waist, and Dean grinned against Her skin. 

“I know, baby.” He kissed along Her collarbone, and Her head tipped further back. “But I think you like it, right. Like people knowing you’re mine-“

She melted into him with another soft sound, and son of a bitch, Dean couldn’t tell if his brain was doing him a favor or not. She looked like something higher than an angel, when he leaned back pressed a sloppy kiss to Her cheek. And he got to hold Her like this in here. Have Her slumped against him with complete trust and control, as if She didn’t understand that Dean would probably rip his heart of out his chest as an offering, if she told him Her’s was hurting. 

He got to watch Her blink at him slowly, a dazed and happy smile on Her lips.  

But it was only in here. 

“You look beautiful,” he murmured Her name, and Her breath hitched, that pretty flush spreading over Her cheeks. 

“Thank you, De.”

“Course, baby.” He dropped his brow to Her shoulder, almost clinging to Her body. This dream wouldn’t be ripped away, if he just held on tight enough. “Can I ask you something?”

She hummed, petting Dean’s hair, and a deep breath escaped his chest with ease. 

“If- Y’know in all those drama, soapy shows you watch-“

“I watch?”

He sighed. “Fine, I watch. But you watch them with me-“

“Because you’re cute. I don’t actually like them.”

He pulled back to frown at Her. “You don’t like Dr. Sexy?”

She shrugged. “I like you.”

“But-“

“Is that your question? If I like Dr. Sexy?” She gave him a pointed look, resting Her chin on his chest, and he rolled his eyes.

“No.”

“Then ask the real question, Deano-“

He nipped at Her nose, and She wiggled against him with a squeak. That wasn’t helping his dream boner. Neither was the way Her nails dug into his arm, or how She threw Her head back with a tiny moan—eyes fluttering and body going slack—when Dean picked Her up and pinned Her against the wall, his lips returning to Her throat.

“So bossy,” he muttered, and Her mouth fell open with a gasp. “Look at you, so fuckin’ pretty.”

He reached up with one hand, trying to brush the hair out of Her face, and She caught his wrist with a desperate expression. 

“Dean,” She whispered, squeezing Her hand three times. “Please. Please, just-“

She rolled Her hips with another tiny sound, and he had to take a slow, long breath. 

Not in a dream. Not when it wasn’t even real, and She was still his best friend, trapped in Hell. 

“Out there, Princess.” He pressed as soft kiss to Her lips, letting Her chase him to a deeper one when he tried to pull away. “But I know, sweetheart. I know.”

She sighed, shaking Her head as She leaned back to scan over Dean with an unreadable expression. 

“What did you want to ask me?”

He swallowed, reaching up to cup Her cheek. She was pressed right against his body, with Her legs hooked around his torso and Her arms resting back over Dean’s shoulders. She was so close, close enough that Dean could feel the rise and fall of Her chest, feel Her heartbeat under his fingers when his hand moved to Her neck. And She didn’t flinch or pull away. She just looked at him with bright eyes, and the air felt too thin. 

“In the shows,” he mumbled, playing with the hair near Her neck. “They always got an episode where someone’s gotta choose. The world or-“

“Just one person.” She whispered, and he nodded. 

“You know what you’d choose?”

She stared at him, and suddenly, Dean was terrified of Her answer. She was going to tell him that She’d always chose anyone but him. Maybe suddenly morph into Dad, who’d start shouting at him that he was being an idiot, that he shouldn’t even feel any guilt about Her in the cage. That he was free of some woman weighing him down, when Dean was pretty sure the was some sort of iron chair wrapped around his throat, and it only got tighter the longer She was gone. 

But She didn’t turn into Dad. Or tell Dean She hated him. 

She just gave Dean a sad, small smile, and held his hand against Her face.

“I do. But I wouldn’t let it get to that, De.” Her voice broke slightly, and when Dean’s thumb moved to the bridge of Her nose, she let out a soft sigh. “I wouldn’t.” She mumble, nothing but putty in his arms. “I promise, it’s not gonna get to that-“

“I know, baby.” He muttered. “I know. You know I’d choose you, right. You don’t gotta tell me yours-“

“I’d choose you.” She cut him off with a soft breath, eyes fluttering slightly, and the world did a sort of stutter stop. “All the way down.”

He nodded, and opened his mouth to tell Her again. That it was still all the way down, always all the way down, and he’d love Her until he didn’t have anything left in his body. 

But the world was starting to flicker. Wave in and out. 

And Dean barely got to crash into one last, desperate kiss before She was gone. 

The door slammed, and Dean had a headache again. It was always so goddamn bright into morning, it was like the sky was angling the freakin’ sun right into his eyes. There was birdsong, drifting through the air outside and the smell of coffee somewhere close. His throat was dry, his stomach feeling like it was filled with acid, and Goddamnit he had to get up. 

He didn’t want to. 

But he was even more useless, just fucking lying here with the covers over his face and the pit gaping in his chest. 

“You’re up.” Sam said, not glancing up from his laptop, and Dean grunted. 

“How long you been back.”

“Few hours. It’s almost noon.”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “And you didn’t freakin’ wake me up?”

“I’m not your clock, Dean.”

“Yeah, and now we’re running behind-“

“Behind on what?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Your drinking schedule?”

“Sam.” He grunted, rubbing his brow. “I’m not in the goddamn mood-“

“Because you lost your girlfriend. Yeah, I know.”

Dean stared ahead blankly, forcing himself to take long, deep breaths through his nose. He couldn’t beat Sam up. For one, he hadn’t tipped far enough over the edge to not pull punches, and Sam was a fucking fridge without a soul. He’d get his ass kicked. But this wasn’t Sam’s fault. Wasn’t even Sam. And Dean had been on board with the soul blocker plan. It was sort of his fault. 

But Sam could sneer at Dean all he goddamn wanted. 

She was the line. And Sam was freaking toeing it. 

“Dude.” Dean said, forcing his voice to remain even. “What did we talk about.”

“Waking you up-“

Dean snapped Her name, and Sam finally looked up. “What did we talk about, with Her?”

Sam gave him a dry look. “Nothing, Dean. We haven’t talked to her in like, a year.” He frowned. “Are you seeing hallucinations of her?”

“No- I- Not for-“ Dean sputtered, pushing himself to his feet. “Goddamnit, Sam-“

“I don’t care if you are, Dean. Sort of guessed you were. You call her name when you sleep.” Sam shrugged, looking back to the laptop. “But you probably shouldn’t drive, if you are.”

Deep breaths. Dean needed to take deep breaths. “Sam.”

Sam hummed, and Dean’s fist curled. 

“Look at me.”

Sam sighed, and gave Dean a dramatic, pointed stare. “What, Dean. I’m trying to get us ready for our next case-“

“Well, don’t. I’ve got what we’re doing, and we still need to talk about her-“

“Oh, for-“ Sam groaned, giving Dean an almost pitying look. “Look. I know you’re like, in love with her. And you miss her, or whatever. But I’ve got an actual case, Dean, and literally everyone has told you that the cage can’t be fucked with-“

“Someone fucked with it for you.” Dean snapped. “Got you out just fine.”

“And I’ve told you, I don’t know who. I’m not wasting time on this-“

“It’s not-“ Deep fucking breaths. Don’t punch the wall. “Sam, I’m not talking about that-“

“You’re always talking about that, Dean. All you do is drink and bitch about how you love her-“

That was enough. 

Dean stomped over to the table, grabbed out his pistol from his pillow, and slammed Sam’s laptop down with a scowl. Sam blinked at him, shoulders squaring, and he could beat Dean up all he fucking wanted. He’d get to feel something, and then he’d just get up after and keep going until it either killed him, or he actually got to fucking speak.

“What did we talk about.” He hissed Her name through his teeth. “What did I tell you about her.”

Sam sighed, voice was too neutral for Dean’s liking. “That I should think about what I’m going to say before I say it, three times, and if you wouldn’t say it about her, I should shut the hell up.”

“Right. Good.” Dean pushed back up, tucking the gun away and crossing his arms over his chest. “Pack your shit up, Sammy, we’re heading out.”

Sam frowned at him, not moving. “Out where.”

“To find a demon.” 

“A demon?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, if you want a demon, we can you one later-“

“I don’t want- Christ, Sam, we’re interrogating it.”

“Why would we do that.”

Dean sighed. “Because Cas has got something for us to do. Crowley’s looking for something, we need to work out, what,” he made a wide gesture. “Demon.”

Sam just stared at him. “No.”

“Sam, I ain’t asking-“

“Cas can handle that himself, he’s an angel. I have a case for us, the hunters-“

“I don’t care.” Dean grunted, turning towards his bag. They packed a little heavier than before—crashing at Bobby’s less—but it was still quick to gather. He just needed his shoes. “We’re doing the demon thing, not some salt and burn.”

“It’s not some salt and burn, Dean, it’s a pretty massive vamp nest in Cadillac, South Carolina, which isn’t even that far.”

“Cadillac? Like the car?”

“Yeah. If we hit the road in an hour, we’ll be there before sunset-“

“No.” Dean grunted, double checking that he had Velma and the box, and Sam let out a bitch sigh.

“Dude, I think they’ve got, like, an infestation.”

“Other hunters will deal with it.”

“Haven’t we been talking about empathy, Dean?” Sam said, tone smug, and Dean drew back up. 

He looked fucking smug, as well. Like he’d just done a freakin’ genius chess move or something. 

Dean had never known how to play chess. She’d known how the pieces worked, but Sammy said She was impossible to play against because she just moved the pieces in a way She thought looked cool, and won every time. 

He fucking missed Her. 

He was also going to kill Sam.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

“Empathy is helping people, right dean?” Sam raised his brows. “This would be helping people. A lot more than all the shit you’ve been doing to get her out.”

Dean took a long, heavy breath. “And?”

“And I told you, Cas can handle Crowley without us. We should be helping people.”

“Hunting the fuckin’ King of Hell will be helping people-“

“It’ll be helping you.” Sam said Her name in a bored tone, and that wasn’t how it should be fucking said. “She’d choose to help people.”

“She’d help you. If this is about gettin’ her out, does it even matter? If you were in the cage alone, Sam, she’d be doing everything to help you. To shut the hell up, and let’s go.” Dean could hear his own voice, dropping to almost a growl, and Sam glanced up with a small frown. 

“So?”

Dean stared at him. Not Sammy. That wasn’t Sammy, not his Sammy, because his Sammy would never question helping Her. Normal Sammy would be pissed at the idea of leaving Her in the cage. 

He had to try a different approach, before his head exploded. 

“Don’t you wanna know what the hell Crowley’s so interested in?”

“Not really, no.”

Dean took a long, slow breath. Maybe he’d just freaking leave Sam here, and they’d split up. They’d done it before, and that had always turned out sorta fine. 

“I’m going for a walk.” Dean grunted, and Sam sighed, looking back down. 

“Okay. Take your phone, you have a missed call from Bobby.”

“A-“ Dean cut himself off with one, last, slow breath. Not his fault. “Whatever.”

He grabbed his phone off the nightstand, and stomped outside as he dialed Bobby. 

“Dean?”

“Hey, Bobby, it’s me-“

“You alright, boy?” Bobby cut Dean off, words tight. “Heard you were callin’ past midnight, yesterday.”

“Yeah, I-“ Dean sighed, tipping his head back to frown at the tree branches. “Rough night. Better now. What��d you call me for?”

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t dead, ya idjit.”

“Well, I’m not, so-“

“Did you seriously try breaking a fuckin’ seal?”

Dean felt the blood drain from his face. “Uh- Who told you about that-“

“Cas.” Bobby grunted. “Think he wants me to keep an eye on you. Said you don’t seem to be doin’ too well.”

Dean scowled. “Bobby, I’m fine-“

“That was a dumb fuckin’ move, Dean. You coulda gotten yourself damn killed-“

“I’ve heard-“

“You have any idea what the hell that would do to her?” Bobby snapped, and Dean’s spine went rigid. “If she got out, came back, then I had to tell ‘er you went and got yourself killed while she was gone? You know what she’d fuckin’ do?”

“Bobby.” Dean muttered. “I don’t-“

“She’d make the apocalypse look like a goddamn tea party, dumbass. I know I don’t got legs to stand on, but if you keep fucking actin’ like she ain’t gonna give a shit whether you live or die, she’s gonna kill you before Crowley gets your sorry ass.”

Dean swallowed, and that sore lump was back in his throat. He was getting pretty fucking sick of it. “I know, Bobby. I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be sorry, Dean. Stop trying to kill yourself.”

“I’m not-“ Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “Bobby, did Jody pass on my message?”

Bobby grunted. “Yeah, lookin’ for demons. Dean, if you go and die, I’ll drag you up from hell and lock you in your room ‘till she’s home.”

He shouldn’t like that idea. Just waiting in their room, surrounded by reminders that She really did existed, and had really cared about Dean and—at least in a few ways—wanted him, until She got home. And one day She’d just walk through the door, straddle Dean’s lap, and he’d get to hold Her until she understood how goddamn sorry he was. Maybe he’d show Her, with his hands and mouth and-

“Dean.”

“Yeah, I got it.” He grumbled. “Can I get a demon, please?”

There was a moment of silence, then Bobby’s rough voice. “I got wind for you that there’s a lotta them, down in Cadillac.”

Dean froze. “Cadillac? South Carolina?”

“Yep. Why, you heard of it?”

“Yeah, like an hour ago.” Dean glanced back to the motel. This conversation was gonna freakin’ suck. “Thanks, Bobby.”

The call ended, and someone out there had to be goddamn fucking with him. Making everything some kind of big fucking joke, on Dean himself. He didn’t know what the hell he’d done to who, but now he had to go apologize to Sam about a fight he should’ve won, and drive to town called Cadillac.

Cadillacs fucking sucked. 

“Sam.” He grunted, pushing back into the room. “Get it the car.”

Sam sighed. “Dean, I’ve told you I’m not doing this goose chase-“

“I’m not either.” He muttered, grabbing his bag. “You win. we’re going to Cadillac.”

It wasn’t until they were on the road, that Sam started to question why Dean was suddenly all in on South Carolina. And he didn’t seem to have enough emotion to care anyway, when Den told him about the demons. Just shrugged, and muttered guess you got lucky, huh.

Dean used the drive to practice his ignoring skills. When he took a sharp turn and Sam let out a bitch sigh, Dean ignored it. When he turned up the volume and Sam made a sour face, Dean made it a point to keep his gaze fixed out the window shield. It didn’t how many times Sam grumbled about wrong turns and Dean being dramatic, he wasn’t going to react. He’d keep getting Her snacks at the gas stations, because not doing that would be another form of giving up on Her, and Dean simply damn refused to. He’d drum all the wheel all he wanted, because it was his fucking car. 

He’d even ignore Sam’s look of disbelief, when a pop-punk song popped up on the mixtape. 

“Really, Dean? I have never once heard you listen to this song-“

“I don’t listen to it.” He muttered Her name, and his grip tightened on the wheel at Sam’s dramatic sigh. “She likes it.”

“I know that, Dean, but she’s not here-“

“Sam.” Dean gave him a firm, unwavering glare. “You can either be in the car and shut the hell up, or sit of the freakin’ roof.”

“C’mon, man, it’s not a good-“

“What did I say.”

Sam scowled, but muttered, “Don’t talk about her if it’s not something you’d say.”

Dean gave a sharp nod, and looked back to the road. He knew it was pathetic, to play the music just to torture himself with thinking about Her. But he loved Her, and he was past pathetic. Pathetic started with dreaming of someone, and Dean had been doing that for freaking years.

He just missed Her. And as long as shit kept not mattering, he’d keep listening to Her music until it did. 

Until She was home, and he could look at his motel bed and know She’d be sleeping on the other side. 

Pontiac wasn’t a huge town. Easy to find a cheap motel, and stay within walking distance of a bar. And the place was really freaking green. Sam said it was a wetland, but that just seemed to mean nice looking swamp. Plants and trees and a whole lotta birds, singing in overlapping notes as the sun started to set. 

The bugs came out. Dean had barely stepped out of the car, when he got a back. Sam looked at him like he was insane, when he whacked his arm, but Sam wasn’t getting freakin’ eaten alive. Sam didn’t have a bunch of fireflies try and land on his face, when they walked out of the lobby. 

And maybe Dean was losing his goddamn mind, but he could swear he was smelling it. 

Her.

“We’ll keep an eye out for demons,” Sam said as they unpacked, and Dean felt through his bag for Velma and the box. “But this is a vamp case, Dean. We need to treat it like one.”

Dean nodded. “Whatever. You gonna use the shower, or can I take it.”

Sam stared at him. “It’s Six pm.”

“And?” Dean scowled. “A man isn’t allowed to keep himself clean in freakin’ bug country?”

“A shower will actually attract more bugs.” Sam shrugged. “I’m going to the bar. You can…” Sam gave him an odd look. “Shower.”

Dean waited until the door was closed, and grabbed one of the paper sheets from the motel desk, along with his own pen, and shoved them under his pillow before heading to the bathroom. 

He still didn’t look in the mirror. But when he stepped into the shower, he glanced down at his dick between his legs, and let out a heavy sigh. 

There were two choices here. Neither of them made him a good man. 

He could chase distraction in some girl at the bar, and stray one step further from the holiest thing he’d ever know. Betray Her even more, when it would barely make him feel anything at all. 

Or he could take care of himself—with thoughts of Her, as if she wasn’t getting tortured in hell as they spoke—and drink the rest of the pain away.

And just the thought of Her was already doing it. He could smell Her apple through the steam of the shower, and his was making his cock twitch all by itself. All he had to do was close his eyes, and he could almost see him. Smiling at him, with bright eyes and shiny hair, framing every feature so well Dean wasn’t sure how She was human. Touchable, by shadows of men like him. 

He was a shadow of a man. Barely even something from the mud, anymore. 

Because he wrapped his cock in his hand, and started to pump, letting his brain carry him wherever it wanted to go. 

Her. On all fours in front of him, eyes fluttering as She gave him that sweet smile, right before taking Dean in Her mouth. She’d look so fucking perfect like that, lips swollen and drool falling out of Her mouth. She’d blink lazily up at him as he played with Her hair, sliding Her up and down until She was moaning, and he was right on the verge of snapping in half. Ass in the air, tits bouncing. Something sent down from a little above heaven.

Then Her hand would slide between her legs as She sucked Dean’s cock, and he’d pull Her off with a popping sound. Lay Her back down on the bed—he’d have to use a bed, it was what She deserved—and run his fingers between her soaked pussy lips. Wrap his lips around Her clit, or just slide himself inside of Her, and watch Her mouth fall open as he bottomed out, and she squeezed around him.

He came with a grunt, hand slipping slightly against the shower wall. 

The air still smelled like apple. 

When he walked out of the bathroom, there was an apple on the sink.

“It just appeared?” Sam frowned at him across the table a few hours and several drinks later, turning the apple in his hand. “Are you sure it wasn’t there when you walked into the bathroom.”

“Had to have. I would’ve noticed a random apple on the freakin’ sink.”

“Huh.”

Dean glowered. “Really? Huh?”

“Yeah, Dean, I don’t know what you want me to do about it-“

“I don’t know, something-“

“It’s just an apple, dude.” Sam rolled his eyes, gaze wandering somewhere over Dean’s head. “I’m gonna go to the bar.”

He didn’t wait before he was standing, leaving Dean alone the apple. When Dean glanced over his shoulder, Sam had cozied up with a brunette in about five seconds, and didn’t seem to be all that interested in anything else. 

Dean sighed, glancing back to the apple. It was just an apple. Not an Eden apple, a freakin’ Pink Lady or something. But he could still smell Her-

“Hey,” a hand landed on his shoulder, and Dean tensed. “Drinking all alone?”

“No.” Dean grunted, grabbing his bottle and the apple, giving the chick a tight grin. She was pretty, a huge rack that was almost falling out of her top, but not Her. Dean only fucking wanted Her. “I’m heading out. Uh- Good luck.”

He wandered back to the motel in the dark. The streets were long, and the night was longer, and by the time he got back to the room, he wasn’t sure if he was losing his damn mind, or seeing a million fireflies dancing around his body. He had downed three shots and half a bottle of whiskey. Sleep would fix it. 

But he had something more important to do, first.

——————

Dec. 18th - 2010

Princess,

Been a long day. Most days are long days, without you. Everyone’s pissed at me, all for different shit, and it’s exhausting. Sam’s still being a dick. I swear to god, baby, you’d stab him for half the stuff coming out of his mouth.

You wouldn’t stab him. It’s Sammy, far as you know. Hell, you might just walk back through the door, and he’ll turn into Sammy. Start talking about some nerd shit and showing you books, like he hasn’t been whoring around in every town we go to. 

I’ve been thinking about if we’d known you, before the moroi. Maybe we would’ve met on some other case, or just all had normal lives. Probably just Bobby, introducing us to you as kids. You and Sammy would’ve been best friends, and you wouldn’t have even looked at me. Bobby’s been telling me and Jody (the sheriff lady) about what you were like as a kid. We have to get him drunk, first, but that’s pretty freaking easy lately. 

He says you loved books and animals and other girl stuff. But Sammy liked girl stuff, too. Bobby mentioned that you used to mix plants in the yard to make potions, and I remember Sammy doing that.

Only Bobby said one your potions turned a bunch of his cars into pure gold, and the other one attracted all the stray dogs in the neighborhood. Then he said you had a tea party with them, but I’m not sure if he’s making that part up. He was pretty freaking drunk.

Sammy’s potion tasted like ass. He asked me to drink it, and I couldn’t say no. He would’ve cried, Princess, and you’ve never seen Sammy about to cry. It’s like a whining puppy. So I drank his potion, and then I started throwing up for like a week. Dad was pretty pissed, thought I ordered them food, and it could have gotten Sammy poisoned too. Turned out the kid just put a bug in the potion. He liked bugs. Bobby says you liked bugs, too. 

Bugs are gross, sweetheart. But if being honest with you, I can see you asking me to hold a bug, and I do it. For you. I’d just be happy you were giving me the time of day, when you’d be spending all your attention on Sammy. 

What I’m trying to tell you is that I think I love you every time. I think if you were an actual Princess, I’d keep loving you from afar, like if you were Sammy’s bug friend and I was just his stupid older brother. And if you looked at me one day and asked me to do something for you, I’d make the moon move backwards. If you loved me back (because I love you. Just in case you frogot forgot) I’d figure out a way for us to be together. If you wanted me. 

Yours, 

DAW

——————

“What the hell is up with this place?” Dean muttered, frowning at his pancake. “First I wake up with a bunch of flowers on my pillow, then they give me one fucking pancake? Do they hate me?”

Sam sighed, poking at his own eggs. “I don’t think they are that much, Dean. And you’re the one who said you fell in the bushes last night.”

“It looked like a garden vomited on my pillow, Sam.”

“It was two milkweeds.”

“I don’t know flowers.” Dean glared at his plate, grumbling Her name. “She’d know flowers.”

She’d look at the flowers, and go Dean, this is clearly the work of the flower-moth, a moth that vomits flowers on handsome men who love their girlfriends. And then he’d kiss Her. 

Instead he was stuck with Sam hogging all the syrup for his sausages, and a waitress who kept staring at him.  

“I’m tell you, Sammy, this place is strange-“

“It has a case, Dean. Of course it’s strange.” 

“No, man, like- Weird-“

“That means the same as strange.”

Sam was going to get punched. “You know what I mean. Weird shit keeps happening-“

“Someone gave you a free apple.” Sam gave him a flat look. “And you got blackout drunk, picked flowers for your girlfriend, then started crying when you realized she was stuck in hell. That’s not weird shit, Dean, that’s you needing a therapist.”

Dean scowled. “Shut up. Couldn’t get a therapist anyway, they’d think I was freakin’-“ He whistled, twirling his finger, and Sam shrugged. 

“Sure. You go over the case, or do I have to-“

“Big hidden vamp nest.” Dean stabbed his fork into the pancake, and the syrup pooled like it was bleeding. “Talk to locals, see who knows what, gank all the sons of bitches the moment we catch wind of where they’re holed up. Look for a demon, too. Grab it if you see it. Laser tag rules.”

Sam frowned. “Laser tag?”

“First person to hit it gets the point.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Dean shrugged, and it sounded pretty simple. Vamps were easy enough, and someone was bound to snitch with the right pressure. And Bobby said the town had a demon problem. They’d run into one eventually. 

Only they didn’t. 

And this wasn’t easy at all. 

These people were fucking crazy. Everyone kept blaming flooding season for the deaths, as if it wasn’t almost freakin’ Christmas. Dean went to the bathroom in the sheriff’s office, and opened to door only to trip over a pile of books. There wasn’t a single demon in sight, but whenever they interrogated someone about it, people reported smelling sulfur and seeing black eyes.

And all of the interrogations were going to make Dean pull out his eyes. But this one was a special kind of fucking insane. This one was going to make Dean have a goddamn seizure. 

“You two look like lovely boys.” The old woman said, pulling out the third tray of chicken nuggets from the oven. “I mean, at first I thought, oh, how spooky, big FBI agents wavin’ around their guns and askin’ questions, but y’know.” She beamed at them. “First impressions are often wrong.”

Sam gave the woman a grimacing smile and Dean stared at his drink. It was a Shirley temple. Three cherries, with half the damn drink just pure grenadine.

If She was here, Dean would slide his over for Her to drink, in trade for one of Her chicken nuggets. Actually, She loved chicken nuggets, too. And these chicken nuggets were half ketchup, which She’d love even more. 

Son of a bitch, he missed Her. 

“Ma’am,” Sam said cautiously. “We heard that you found one of the bodies, a few weeks ago-“

“Oh, yes, but it’s just flooding season.”

Dean glanced up. “Y’know, we’ve heard that a few times. Flooding season happened every year?”

“Oh, yes.” The woman nodded with a vague wave of her hand. “Or months.”

Sam frowned. “That’s- Not how seasons work-“

“Oh, sure it is. Lollipop?”

Sam shook his head, but Dean leaned forward. She had root beer. And cream soda. And blue raspberry. 

He took one of each, then a cherry one for himself. 

Sam raised his brows, and Dean shrugged, shoving them in his pocket.

“How many people usually die?” He asked, unwrapping his lollipop. “During flooding season?”

“Oh, about a dozen.”

“A- Dozen?” He sat up, shooting Sam a what the fuck look, and Sam sighed. 

“Ma’am, exactly how often does flooding season happen?”

“Whenever it pleases.” The woman sat across from them, pushing forward a huge bowl of purple ice cream. “Purple cow?”

Dean stared at her. Maybe it was a code. Christ, he was too tired for code.

“Blue chicken.”

“It’s the ice cream flavor, Dean.”

“Oh- Uh,” he gave the woman a tight grin, holding up his lollipop. “I’m good. Flooding season-“

“Sweetie, it ain’t nothin’ for you to worry about.” The woman sighed. “Every once and a while you FBI boys get interested in it, then you give up when you see the bodies washing up the river. Nothing for y’all to worry about. Not that you could understand.”

Sam sat up, and Dean had heard it too. “That we could understand?”

The woman nodded, humming as she set the ice cream off by a third, empty seat.

A seat with chicken nuggets, and a Shirley temple, and a bunch of blue raspberry lollipops on the placemat. 

Dean frowned, raising his hand to cut off any of Sam’s further words. “Can I ask you something, ma’am?”

“Course. Ain’t that what you’re here for?”

“Yeah, uh- Who’s that plate for?”

Dean pointed to the empty chair, and the woman sighed. 

“Ah- Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweetheart.” She rose up, moving back into her tiny kitchen. “Y’all want some mac and cheese?”

“Yes-“

“No.” Sam cut Dean off with a glare. “Ma’am, we would really like to know about the plate-“

“I told ya’, it ain’t anything you’re gonna understand-“

“We’re open minded.” Dean jumped in, giving her a winning smile. “Promise. The occult? My partner here is into that magic stuff it in like, that way,” he winked, and Sam could glare at him all he fucking wanted, Dean was past giving a shit. “And my girlfriend loves weird things, we got paintings of Death on the fridge at home.”

The woman raised her brows. “Really. So-“ She looked back and forth like someone might be watching, then shook her head. “No. I shouldn’t say.”

“Ma’am, we need you to tell us-“

“Aliens.” She whispered, and they both blinked. “They been comin’ around, for a few days. I always thought this town was somethin’ special, and I knew it. Aliens been tellin’ me that their goddess was here, and they’ve been helping me get ready.”

Sam just stared at her, and Dean cleared his throat. 

“So… Aliens told you their goddess would want purple ice cream and chicken nuggets.”

The woman nodded eagerly, and Dean gave her an awkward smile. 

“They say what kind of music she likes?”

“No!” Her eyes widened. “But shoulda been askin’. Good idea, boy, I’ll tell them about you, agent-“

“Perry.” Dean turned to Sam, giving him a firm look. “Can I talk to you?”

Sam nodded, and they were barely a step out of the house before Dean whirled around, glowering at Sam.

“I fuckin’ told you, there’s something weird going on here-“

“One crazy woman doesn’t mean weird, Dean.” Sam sighed, pulling out his phone. “We’ve got a few more interviews, try and see if we can figure out this flooding season thing-“

“Aliens, Sammy.” Dean shouted. “We just gonna ignore aliens-“

“Yep. We don’t hunt aliens. They’re not real.”

“But-“

“I know you think something is up, dude. But until we get proof, it’s still a vampire case. C’mon.”

Dean scowled as Samy stared back to the car, and couldn’t stop himself from muttering Her name under his breath. “She thinks aliens are real.”

If Sam heard him, he didn’t acknowledge it. But Dean was right. Strange fucking shit was up, in this town. Everyone kept doubling down on the flooding season thing, and when they looked at old records, that was the cause of death for nearly a hundred people in the past eight years. They didn’t get another old lady talking about aliens, but Dean noticed shit. The drawings of oceans and night skies on the pavement with chalk. The people looking up at the sky, and doing fancy, colorful makeup that makes them look like birds of paradise. He passed a stoop, and there was a knife taped to the door. 

And a knife on the sink, when he went to the bathroom. 

He needed to stop trying to shit. It kept making weird things happens. 

Sam hadn’t been wrong about the vampire case. All the old auto spy files about the flooding season victims were dead ringers for vamps, but there had to be more. People didn’t just start worshiping alien goddess out of nowhere, in a town where people died all the goddamn time. 

“We haven’t seen a single demon,” Dean muttered over the library table, and Sam sighed.

“What am I supposed to do about that, Dean.”

“I don’t know, I’m just saying it’s-“

“Don’t say strange.”

“It is strange! First we got this flooding season shit, then no demons-“

“No demons is good-“

“Not when a town is supposed to be drowning in them.” Dean hissed, leaning forward. “That means they’re hiding, Sam, that something bigger is happening-“

“Like aliens?” Sam’s tone was bored and mocking, and Dean scowled. 

“Yeah, Sam. Maybe.”

“Aliens that eat purple cow ice cream and Shirley temples.” 

“I’m not a freakin’ alien expert-“

“You need to sleep, Dean.” Sam sighed, flipping a page. “You sound insane.”

Of course he sounded insane. Their job was insanity, that wasn’t Dean’s fucking fault. They’d spent the whole day making no damn progress on anything, and Dean might be tired, but he mostly wanted to get this over with, and find a demon. He’d only taken this case for a demon, and now there weren’t any to be found. 

Maybe demons were the ones fucking with him. Dean wasn’t sure why the hell they’d target him over Sam—or why they seemed to know the exact things that would making something thing to the right of heart strain—but they were. He was walking down the sidewalk, and almost tripped over a bunch of crayons. He went for a bottle of whiskey, only for it to turn into a pina colada. The fucking fireflies kept dancing all around him—he wasn’t even that drunk this time—and when he started the walk back to the motel, he was pretty sure that whatever part of his brain hadn’t gone banana’s when She and Sammy fell in was finally slipping. 

The whole town had smelling like Her apples, all day. He hadn’t even been able to look at the lady hitting on him, because it made him feel sick. It was as if Her ghost—presence, if he thought ghost he thought dead, gone, never in his arms again, and then he had to run to the bathroom to vomit, then find a sugary peppermint resting on the doorknob—was wrapped over this entire town.

And on the wind, coming from somewhere in the swamps, he could hear it. 

It wasn’t the birdsong, from yesterday. 

It was a voice he knew. That vibrated in his chest and made his head feel light. That something deeper than his bones and blood seemed to recognize, even though Dean had never actually heard it before. 

But he knew it. 

More than anything, Dean knew it.

——————

Dec. 20th - 2010

Princess,

I got you some lollipops. Cream soda, root beer, and blue raspberry. When you get back, you can have them. 

You gotta come back. Just for this case, sweetheart. You’d love this case, you’d be bouncing off the damn walls. It’s got aliens, chicken nuggets, mac and cheese and free street knives. Like it was designed for you. 

I guess everything was designed for you. That’s the Bride of God thing. You’re the universe, and I’m just some asshole you watch TV with. 

Guess I always knew that. I know that you don’t want to be the Bride, but I can’t see how this life is any better. I’m not saying I want you to go, I’m saying you deserve better. Better than what any of us have ever been able to give you. Better than your family, or me, or Dad. 

I don’t know if I ever apologized to you, about Dad. What he did to you. If I didn’t, I’m sorry, baby. I told you, that’s never been what you deserved. And I’m never gonna be able to make up for the shit he did, for what I did when he told me, but I need you to know that I’d choose you. If I could go back and do it all again, I’d never leave you. I’d stay until the morning, ask you on a proper date, then give you whatever life you wanted. 

I don’t care if that ends with God coming for you anyway. Least I got you for a while. 

Any amount of time with you is more than I could ask for.

I love you. I think it’s driving me insane, how much I love you. Sam thinks so. And Bobby seems to think you feel some of it back, but I don’t think he understands what this is like. It doesn’t feel like normal love, Princess. It sorta feels like I knew it forever, even when I’ve been pissed at you. Like is so fucking deep in my body I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried. 

I don’t know if you feel it like that. But Bobby told me a couple days ago that you’d be broken up about it, if I died. I hope that’s not true. You’re worth a whole lot more than my sorry life, baby girl.

Yours, 

DAW

——————

He couldn’t sleep. 

The singing wouldn’t stop. All fucking night it carried through the windows, dragging Dean up from any rest, soothing him and driving him out of his mind all at once. Sam got about around 4am, and it was still going. 

“You been hearing that?” He grumbled into his pillow, and Sam let out a loud, dramatic sigh.

“Hear what, Dean.”

“The freakin’ singing.”

“The- Do you have headphones on?”

“Do I look like I have headphones on, bitch?”

“Well, there’s no singing-“

“No, there’s-“ Dean let out a long, heavy breath. “Never mind.”

It was gone by the time the sun was up. And then they had to get back on the case. The vampire and demon free vampire and demon case, with an extra side of aliens, in a city that wouldn’t just let Dean goddamn rest.

“They found another body last night,” Sam said over breakfast, and Dean grunted. “We should go to the coroner’s office, check it out.”

“Thought we knew it was vamps.” Dean muttered. One pancake again. He was going to drive off a cliff. “What’s the fuckin’ point.”

“Conformation.” Sam shrugged. “I’d bet on vampires, but maybe it’s something new like vampires. We have to cover all our bases before we go in swinging, Dean, you know that.”

He grumbled an agreement, his gaze wandering aimlessly over Sam’s shoulder. There were two little girls, sharing a milkshake that looked pretty goddamn good. If She was here, Dean would buy Her a milkshake. Then She’d tell him that she could buy it herself, both of us are using stolen money, Winchester, and Dean would convince Her that it was actually pretty fucking important that Dean but the milkshake. It was about chivalry. 

And in his fake dream world, She’d give in with a giggle, and he’d get to wrap his arm over Her shoulder. Kiss the top of Her head, then watch her drink with a big innocent expression, adorably unaware of how Dean was watching Her lips wrap around the straw, thinking of all the things he was going to do to Her when they got back to the motel. 

She’d makes Dean drink some of it. And he’d get little bit of whipped cream on his nose—on purpose, but She wouldn’t be able to prove that—so She’d kiss it off. Then it wouldn’t matter what Dean had been planning, because he’d kiss Her fully, She’d climb into his lap, and by the time people were coughing and staring at them making out in the booth, Dean wouldn’t be able to wait for the motel. He’d just bring Her right to the backseat of the Impala, find a shady corner to park, and bury his face between Her thighs-

“Dean.” Sam waved in front of his face, snapping Dean out of the daydream. “Stop thinking about her and focus.”

“I wasn’t-“

“You make the same face, whenever you think about her.”

Dean’s brow furrowed. “The hell I do-“

“Yeah, you do. It’s better than Her Dean face, though. C’mon.”

“Her-“

Sam stood up, and Dean’s words died in his throat. 

Right where Sam’s massive fucking head had been blocking, was a huge Indiana Jones poster. 

And Dean would be all the stolen money on his credit card that it hadn’t been there the days before. 

Sam wasn’t interested in any of Dean’s theories, though. He hadn’t heard the singing, couldn’t smell Her apple, didn’t seem to notice how this whole town was drenched in Her. 

“Maybe we should go back to the Alien lady.” Dean muttered, staring blankly at the vic’s body. “See what the alien goddess thing is about.”

“No. That would be a waste of time.” Sam turned the vic’s neck, and gave Dean a smug look. “See?”

He angled the neck for Dean to see, and he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I never said it wasn’t a vamp. I just- Something’s up, Sam-“

“Yeah, vampires.” Sam dropped the neck, picking up the arm with a frown. “The bodies are bloated, though. And they’re always found in the river. Maybe the vamps dump them, after feeding fresh-“

“Sure. We haven’t seen a single demon-“

“Maybe there never were demons. Bobby can be wrong sometimes.”

Dean scowled. Bobby could be wrong. But usually when Bobby was wrong, they had Her there to say what was right. And that was always on cases with weird fucking shit.

“Let’s check upstream.” Sam said, grabbing his jacket off a chair. “See if we can find the nest-“

“Sam.” Dean grunted, grabbing his arm. “Look, I know you don’t have feelings right now, or whatever, but you gotta at least admit something’s up here. That this isn’t a normal case.”

Sam nose wrinkled slightly, but he let out a long sigh, and nodded. “Yeah, it’s strange. But we know there are vamps, Dean. And if we gank them and still see some weird shit, then we can start thinking about- Aliens.”

Dean nodded slowly, opening his mouth to make some sort of point about the demons—three things in one town was kind of a lot, so maybe there was a bigger root problem that needed to be dealt with—that was cut off by a knock on the door. 

The coroner—a round faced, smiling man—waved at them from the window, and Dean sighed, pulling the door open. 

“Hey, boys!” The coroner breamed between them, and Dean had never met anyone who was happier to be working with dead bodies. “You find what you needed? Anythin’ else I can do to help?”

“No.” Sam said, giving the coroner a close-lipped smile. “We got it. Thank you for your assistance.”

“Hey, anything for the big timers, right?” The coroner laughed. “The FBI bein’ this interested in our little town-“

“Yep. Well, we should head out-“

“I mean, three feds, lookin’ at my dead bodies? This is the best week of my life.”

Dean froze, his body going rigid, and he didn’t have to look at Sam to know he’d done the same.

“Your dead bodies?” Sam asked, and Dean scowled.  

“And,” he shot Sam a glare. “Three agents? I don’t know if you’re seeing double, buddy, but there’s only two of us-“

“Well, there’s you guys, and the lady.”

Sam frowned. “The lady?”

“Yep. Scary looking gal, real looker. Started walkin’ around my office like she owned it, talked like a book had a baby with a pirate.”

Dread started to twist in Dean’s gut. Dread and something worse. Something with soft light that could be fucking hope. “Her eyes.” He muttered, gesturing to his own face. “Were they- What’d they look like?”

“Huh.” The coroner tilted his head. “Kinda sparkly. Like stars.”

Son of a bitch. 

He didn’t wait for Sam, before stomping out of the office. He couldn’t goddamn breathe, or see anything but blurred color, and it felt like he was having a freaking heart attack, with the strain to the right of his heart. She couldn’t be here. Dean would fucking know if She was here. She was still in the cage, because he couldn’t get her out, but that meant-

“Dean.” Sam called, jogging after him. “Slow down-“

“I’m not gonna fucking slow down,” Dean sneered, whirling around. “I told you, Sam, something crazy is happening in this town. Someone is messing with me, making me- I can-“

Sam braced his hands on his hips as Dean took a deep, unsteady breath. “Dude, I know that sounded like her, but-“

“No.” Dean snapped. “You don’t get it, I can smell her and hear her, and- She loves chicken nuggets, Sam. She loves chicken nuggets, and candy, and Indiana Jones, and- Son of a bitch, she loves that purple cow ice cream, I remember her giving Cas some- And the bar has been playing all her favorite songs and she loves flowers and- Christ, Sam, I think I’m gonna open the shower tonight a find a kitten in the bathtub-“

“Dean-“

“Someone is fucking with me, Sam. Someone is trying to drive me insane-“

“Dean-“

“And I’m gonna- I’ll fucking kill them-“

“Dean!” Sam shouted. “I think you’re right.”

Dean blinked. “You do?”

“Yep. It’s-“ Sam sighed, keeping his gaze firmly locked on Dean’s. “Don’t look. But there’s a child watching us.”

“A-“ Dean turned, Sam groaned, and there was a child watching them. Not in the way children watched adults fight, but with a strange sort of intent. 

The moment her eyes locked with Dean’s, she took off down the street. 

Dean sighed. “Are we chasing a child.”

Sam shrugged. “Guess we have to.”

They took off after her. Down the street—fast fucking kid—and around the block, before she turned into an alley- 

Something slammed over Dean’s head, drove into his gut, and the world went black. 

Stayed black, for a little while.

Dean’s head fucking hurt again, when he could think. The low groan that left him wasn’t dignified, either. 

But they had bigger problems to deal with. 

The room was pretty dark. Windowless, with a soft carpet Dean’s face had be dropped against. Everything goddamn hurt, and between the throbbing in his skull, ache in his jaw, and sticky, wet feeling in his gut, someone had beaten the shit out of him.  His hands were tied behind his back, and when he glanced over, Sam was in the exact same position, with a gash on his arm and black eye blooming on his face.

His eyes slowly started to adjust, as he forced through the pain and pushed himself up on his knees. The whole room was full of fancy shit. Polished wooden tables and plush chairs, with the stupid, cream and red design you’d see in a grandmother’s house. There were paintings on the walls, and crystal glasses filled with something red, and a man. 

One man, bald and bored looking, sitting on the largest chair with one leg over the other. Watching Sam and Dean try to get their bearings with vague amusement, swirling the red stuff in his own glass. 

Blood. 

“Sam.” Dean groaned, scrunching his nose as another pain stabbed through his skull. “Think we found the vamp nest.”

Sam glared at him, and the man chuckled. 

“You are Dean, I presume?” He hummed, his voice smooth and dry. “Which makes the big one Sam.”

Dean smirked at him. His gun was gone. Best bet was getting the evil plan, then finding a way out. “So you heard of us?”

The man sighed. “Every Alpha has heard of the Winchesters. At this point, every monster has heard of the Winchesters. I’ve always heard you travelled in a herd of three...” The man raised his brows, and Dean tensed. “But I guess the brains couldn’t grace us with her presence, being trapped in the cage.”

Dean’s jaw clenched, and Sam cleared his throat. “Alpha?”

“Yes, Sam Winchester.” The man sighed. “Alpha. You’re a smart boy, I’m sure you can work out what that means.”

Sam blinked. “Alpha is the first letter of the greek alphabet. So, uh-“

“He’s the first vampire.” Dean grunted, eyes narrowing. “Or he’s saying he is.”

The man—Alpha Vampire—gave Dean an amused look. “Interesting. Not just the beauty, are you, Dean.”

Sam frowned. “He’s right?”

“Oh, yes.” The Alpha hummed. “I am indeed the first vampire. The father of the greatest race my mother ever created-“

“Mother?”

“Yes, Dean. Mother. We all come from somewhere, just as my children came from me. And you two have killed many of them-“

“Sorry, Dracula.” Dean shrugged, and the move split his spine. “They were killing people-“

“They were eating food.” The Alpha snapped. “Just like a hunter, to speak of things they don’t understand. I was hoping to speak to the Magdalene-“

“You know about Magdalenes?” Sam cut in, and the Alpha sighed. 

“Of course I know about Magdalenes. I have met several, in my life. But you have the Magdalene.” The Alpha laughed to himself. “Had the Magdalene.”

Dean’s fists curled, and even that movement hurt. “Listen, Count Chocula, you better shut your goddamn mouth-“

“Or what, Dean.” The Alpha drawled. “You are not at the advantage here. And I would not go making threats when I am already very displeased with your presence in my town.” He leaned forward, glaring between Sam and Dean. “I have spent almost two hundred years in Cadillac without disturbances. Do you have any idea how long it takes to convince a town that flooding season is a genuine reason for people to die en masse?” He sighed, lips curling. “Very long. And it was all going just swimmingly, then suddenly there are demons and fairies, and it is all the Winchester’s fault.”

“Demons?”

“Fairies?”

The Alpha sighed. “Yes, Sam. Fairies. They are rare, in our world, which makes the fact that about three dozen of them have been running around my town all week all the more annoying. And-“

“Uh, can we go back to the demon thing.” Dean said over the Alpha, forcing his voice to remain steady. “Cause we’ve been here a few days, and I haven’t seen a single demon-“

“And we’ve never heard of fairies.” Sam added. “We’re here to hunt vampires.”

The Alpha gave Sam an amused look. “And is that supposed to help your case?”

“No.” Sam shrugged. “But demons and fairies aren’t us.”

Dean really wanted to circle back to demons—they hadn’t even fucking seen one—but they also had to get out of this alive. So it could go on the back burner for now.”

“Sam’s right.” He said, throwing the Alpha another grin. “You’ve got the wrong guys, buddy. Sucks.”

The Alpha scowled. “You cannot trick me, Dean Winchester. I know it is you. My people have been on lockdown, since they arrived, and none of them are foolish enough to deal with a hoard of demons in this political climate. Not when the new boy-king of Hell is trying to make me open the door to Purgatory-“

“Purgatory?” Sam cut in, the room was sort of spinning as the Alpha sighed.

“Yes, Sam. Purgatory. Even our souls deserve a place to rest, when vermin like you bite.”

“But why would Crowley care about that, he’s the King of Hell-“

“I have not been asking him,” the Alpha sneered. “While he’s been trying to kidnap me. And as I was trying to say, demons are unruly, but fairies? They can be controlled.”

“That’s great, dude.” Dean grunted, straining slightly at the ropes around his ankles. They were fucking tight, and every movement send a new wave of pain through his body. “The hell do you want-“

“I want you to listen.” The Alpha snapped. “You claim you are not behind any of this, but I know otherwise.”

Sam frowned. “We’ve been here three days, we couldn’t-“

Sam cut himself off as one of the curtains moved, revealing the little girl that had been watching them on the street. Dark hair and big eyes, a blank expression as She stood so goddamn still Dean didn’t know if she was breathing or not.

“This is Ella.” The Alpha hummed, standing to place a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “She’s a young good fairy, bound to my service.”

“She a kid.” Dean hissed, and the Alpha laughed.

“Do not act like you wouldn’t hunt her if she was only a few years old, Dean. And she has been quite helpful, telling me exactly what’s going on.”

Sam gave Dean a tense look, Dean swallowed, and something seemed to bang outside.

“Ella,” the Alpha drawled. “Tell me why you’re here.”

The girl pointed. 

To Dean.

“Dean?” Sam said, and Dean was confused as well, but the tone wasn’t fuckin’ needed. “That can’t be why she’s here-“

“I assure you, fairies cannot lie-“

“But they’re here for their goddess.” Sam snapped, and Dean felt kinda heavy

“Those were the aliens, Sammy-“

“Fairies that woman probably thought we aliens, Dean.” Sam gave the Alpha a glare. “It can’t be Dean. He’s not a goddess. Or a god. He’s just a guy.”

Dean scowled, and the Alpha tilted his head.

“What about the fairies cannot lie do you not understand-“

“The part where you think they’re here for Dean.”

Sam held the Alpha’s glare, Her apple smell was getting stronger, and Dean was starting to feel sort of lightheaded. Might be the blood loss, or just the fairy doing something to him, but-

“If you’re planning on do somethin’ to me.” He muttered, and the Alpha frowned at him. “Can it happen now, before I bleed all over your fancy freakin’ carpets?”

“The injuries won’t kill you,” the Alpha, snapped and Dean groaned, shaking his head. 

He was going to bleed out in fucking Cadillac. The one thing Bobby had told him not to do was die, and he couldn’t even fucking manage that. And Sam was saying his name, but it didn’t sound all that worried, and if he went maybe he could be a part of that flooding season thing. 

And Her apple smell was consuming him. Maybe he was already falling into hell. 

Maybe She’d meet him there. All the way down. 

He could already hear a lot of shouting, but it didn’t sound like hell shouting. That was more just screams of pain. There was a muffled urgency to this shouting, and Alpha was frowning somewhere over Dean’s head, and the ringing in his ears got louder. 

“I may have to cut our audience short-“

“Father-“ A tall, broad man slammed open the doors of the fancy room panting heavily, and the Alpha frowned.

Dean’s knees felt weak, just keeping him upright. Everything fucking smelled like apples. 

“Jonas, what-“

“It’s- Fuck, it’s-“ The man shook his head frantically, and the Alpha took a long step forward. 

“Jonas, speak plainly-“

“It’s her!” Jonas screamed, and the Alpha flinched back. “It’s the girl-“

Jonas’ word died in a gurgle of blood, his throat slit clean open with a bubbling wound that spread, before his head fell clean from his shoulders.

And Dean must be dying. Or just already dead.

Because Jonas fell to the floor, and standing right behind him was Her. 

She was fucking here. Out of the cage and right in front of him, the light from the hallway seeming to cast around Her like She was something ethereal from the night sky, come down to guide Dean home. All the color in the world growing vibrant, and the air in every ragged breath cleaner. Wind seemed to be blowing through Her shining hair, making Her look even more like a goddess from above heaven. But Her skin looked soft. Touchable. And She was still wearing Her usual jacket and dress, spinning Her blade in her hands, as she frowned down at Jonas.

“You know.” She drawled, nudging his body with her foot. “I’ve wanted to be the girl.”

She still sounded like a siren. It was the only noise in the world that wasn’t far away anymore, the only thing Dean could hear at all. 

“Magdalene.” The Alpha hissed, and She looked up with a sweet smile. 

“Hi. Do you like my trick? I-“

Her words died, and She was looking at Dean. 

Right at him, with bright eyes. 

He didn’t even know if this was real, but She was looking at him, and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning Her name. 

If She was here because he was dying, it could only go faster. The sooner the pain ended, the sooner he’d be able to hold Her. 

“Dean- Dean-“ She took a stumbling step forward, and the Alpha was faster. Dean felt himself be yanked up be the neck, another low sound of pain escaping his throat.

He probably didn’t look very heroic. If She was just another hallucination, it wouldn’t matter, but just in case She somehow wasn’t, Dean tried to puff out his chest and look like he wasn’t dying. It only made the Alpha’s sharp nails sink a little further into his neck, and another low groan leave his body. Somewhere in his periphery, Sam started to move, then let out a sharp grunt as the Alpha kicked his gut.

“The rumors are all true, it seems.” The Alpha said, voice mocking. “The Magdalene has a soft spot for the angel’s toys.”

She was frozen in doorway. Dean could see Her grip on the knife tightening, shoulders rising and falling rapidly. 

She was freaking out. Dean needed to get to Her and touch Her—to make this all better—but he didn’t even know if he’d be able to, or he’d just fall right through the air. 

“I’ve heard rumors that you’re particularly fond of this one.” The Alpha squeezed Dean’s neck, and his vision started to dance with spots. 

She took another staggering step forward, Her voice far softer than only a moment before. “Don’t-“

Something sharp was starting to poke at Dean’s throat. “Another step, and he dies.”

Her eyes were locked onto Dean’s, and they were the only bright thing left in the world. Glossy and desperate, and he didn’t understand. He’d be fine. Once he was gone, he’d be able to touch Her again. 

“No- Dean-“

“Knife down, darling.” The Alpha hummed, and she raised Her hands, shaking her head desperately. 

“I- I can’t- Please, don’t-“

The Alpha roared, and nothing split open Dean’s throat, and the world didn’t go dark. All the pressure was released, and he fell onto the ground, flat on his back. 

He could swear, through the fog clouding his head, he could see the little fairy girl wrapped around the Alpha’s head, clawing and chewing at his skin. But they fell out of his view, and Dean wasn’t sure if he was dead. There was too much pain for it, but he also couldn’t really feel his own body, and people were shouting around him, but he couldn’t make out the words. 

He was being dragged. Across the ground, then hauled up into the air. When his head turned, he was pressed against something that smelled so fucking good. Then there was a harsh light that made him groan, then he was somewhere softer, a rumbling below him. Smaller arms were pulling him up, and he slumped forward against a warm body that fit his so perfectly. Familiar, gentle hands were grabbing his face, but he couldn’t control his own body, and he slumped down forward. There was a beautiful voice, calling his name, and it sounded so sad. When a tension released from Dean’s wrists, his arms moved to hold the source of it—the warm body—as he tried to mutter soothing words, but they just came out like nothing. 

“Dean,” She whispered, prying him away from Her neck. “Dean, I need you to stay awake, no-“

She sounded like She was crying, and he couldn’t let that happen, either. Dean mumbled Her name—the word a little clearer than all the others—but She still wouldn’t let him fall down.

“I- Fuck- Don’t move-“ A hand pressed to his chest and he covered it, trying to keep Her there. 

It worked.

Dean was touching Her. 

He might still be dying, though. He could see that light people were always talking about, as he forced his vision to focus. Forced himself to see Her. 

She looked so sad. Almost broken, with Her hair stuck to Her brow and Her eyes darting between his face, and Her hand on his chest. Her brow was wrinkled, and there were bags under Her eyes, and She’d never looked more beautiful because She was here. Real, and touching Dean in a way he could feel as more than a phantom shiver.

And Dean could touch Her.

It was slipping so fast. The word was getting sharper, and the pain was easing, but now he just felt so tired. He had to touch Her, though, before exhaustion pulled him under. He had to, just so he knew this wouldn’t have to become another nightmare where She slipped through his fingers. 

Dean grabbed Her face between his hands, and She stared at him. Wide eyed and pretty. Flushing slightly.

Real.

“Hey, Princess.” He tried to sound collected and charming, but his mouth was swelling, and the world was still spinning. “You look pretty.”

His brow dropped to Her shoulder, the exhaustion settling into his bones. But he grinned, as it washed over his body. 

Because he could hear Her. 

Saying his name. 

Home.

This wasn’t one of those dreams. 

It was like he was back underwater, reaching up to try and get to the surface, his hand scraping over the waves but never breaching the surface. He couldn’t breathe, or see, or even roar Her name, to make sure she was still there.

But then it was different. 

Suddenly the water was warm, and the world started to glow with light.

He was swimming. Drifting even further down. 

But it didn’t hurt anymore. And when he blinked around, there was something bright and silver and beautiful, like a star fallen right into the ocean, watching over him in the dark.

“I don’t remember anything.”

“Anything?” There was a light pressure on Dean’s chest, and it went still. “Not even- Anything?”

“That’s what I said.”

It started moving again. “Well, where did you wake up?”

“Cas said Kansas. You didn’t?”

“No. I didn’t.”

There was a lot of light, here. Behind Dean’s eyes, softer than the light when he’d been dragged around earlier. This was also a softer surface, and everything still smelled like apples, but there wasn’t a ringing in his ears, or more than a stinging pain in his chest that his body was too tired to fight. 

He’d been injured. The pain was stitches, because he’d gotten the shit beat out of him. And most of what he could remember was a blur, but there had been the Alpha, the fairies, and- 

Her.

She was here. Home. This was probably Her hotel, because there wasn’t any rattling of the heater. It was Her and Sam talking, and Her hands on Dean’s chest. She’d tensed, because Sam didn’t remember the cage, and they’d been in there together. 

But they were both out. Dean hadn’t died, She was real.

“Are you going to tell me-“

“Jerusalem.” Her words were short. Tight. Dean wanted to curve over Her, until She relaxed, but he couldn’t really find enough strength to move. And selfishly, he just wanted to keep Her hands on his chest. 

“Huh. Alright.” Sam paused. “Why were you hunting alone?"

“I was looking for you guys.”

Lie. That was a lie. Dean didn’t know why, but that was a freaking lie, and he was too fucking tired to understand it.

“What the hell happened, back there?”

“I don’t know.” She murmured. “The- Fairy?”

“Yep.”

“The fairy,” She sighed. “Attacked, and I didn’t pause to take an audit. I- I had to-“

Her words died off, and Dean fought his shiver as Her fingers trailed up his chest. 

Sam cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go call Bobby. Give him the rundown. Vampires, fairies, demons-“

“Demons?”

“Bobby said there were demons, and Dean was looking for one, to help Cas with find what Crowley’s after or some shit. But we didn’t see any.”

“Oh.” She hummed, and there was something strange to Her tone Dean was too tired to place. “Okay. Tell Bobby we’re a star up and three over, he’ll know what it means.”

Something scraped on the floor, the wood of the floor creaked, and a door slammed. 

She was still touching Dean. 

It lingered, every time She brushed over Dean’s skin. Like a brand he didn’t want to heal from, or something hot sinking under his muscles and taking root in his gut. He’d never try and remove it. 

He never wanted Her to be gone again. 

When She finished the stitches, there was rush of panic through his body. She’d stop touching him, and he didn’t want Her to. He shouldn’t have played passed out, now he couldn’t tell Her to stay without freaking Her out. He couldn’t even pretend to grab Her wrist in his sleep, She hated that- 

She didn’t move away. Light fingers ghosted over the wound, a soft sound came from somewhere above him, and his hand was pulled into Her’s. He felt Her touch his fingers so delicately, tracing over every callous and line, before they were tangled together, and Dean’s hand was set back down as the mattress dipped. 

She was lying next to him. Holding his hand, even though She didn’t know he was awake. 

Like She couldn’t bear to leave either.

Fuck it. 

Slowly enough that She could stop him if She wanted, Dean pulled Her into his chest. He heard Her breath hitch slightly, but She was still relaxed in his arms, right until She was almost curled over him, free hand resting on his chest. 

When he opened his eyes, She was there. Right next to him, blinking up at him with wide, slightly puffy eyes. Her lips were swollen from chewing, that little wrinkle between Her brows. Dean held Her gaze as he moved his arm over Her head, and around Her shoulders, swallowing the grunt the movement caused and reaching around to rub his thumb down Her nose. 

Her eyes fluttered, slightly, and he couldn’t stop his small grin. 

“Morning.”

Her throat bobbed, voice perfectly soft. “It’s 1pm.”

“Brunch time.”

“That’s just lunch, De-“

“Brunch is a feeling, Princess.”

“You’ve never even had brunch-“

“I ate eggs with you at 2, that one time.”

“That was 2am.”

“Yeah, and it felt like brunch.” 

Her lips twitched as She sniffed, turning Her face into Dean shoulder, and he chuckled. It hurt. 

He didn’t care.

“Hey, Princess.”

She hummed, not moving, and Dean sighed. 

“Sam’s soul is blocked, by the way. That’s why he’s being such a dick.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“He tell you?”

“No.”

“Then how-“

“Demon.” She mumbled, still not moving. “In Iraq.”

Dean frowned into the air. Iraq. That was halfway across the freaking world, not just a few days to South Carolina. And Sam was right, She had been hunting alone. Lying about why. 

Not wearing the clothes She’d fallen in with, like Sammy had been. 

And suddenly his throat hurt again. She wouldn’t be so calm, if She’d just gotten out of the cage. She might not have been a shattered mess like Sammy, but She wouldn’t be spinning Her blade and carving through vampires. She’d be too tired, from being dead. 

He had to ask. 

Even when he didn’t really want the answer. 

“You’ve been out-“

“Since September.” She whispered, and Dean felt the ache from his chest move to the pit of his stomach. 

Three months. 

Three fucking months.

“Why.” He grunted, unable to think of anything else to say.

She pushed up on Her palms, looking at him with a pleading expression. “I- I had to.”

She didn’t say more. And looking at Her, Dean couldn’t bring himself to push for it. 

She looked so fucking tired. All the lines of Her face were sharper, Her eyes holding new strange depth to them that he couldn’t name. As if She’d seen all the stars in the sky, been blinded by them, and done something horrible to keep seeing. 

To keep looking at Dean. 

But it still fucking hurt. And he couldn’t stop the bitterness of his tone.

“Bobby know?” He muttered, holding Her palm over his chest because he loved Her, and if She turned into mist above him, he might snap in half. “That you’re back?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, scanning over Dean’s face. “I- I just got back a few days ago. I lost my phone, his number is the only one I know. And he- He told me you were here.”

Truth. That was the truth. 

And She looked so fucking sad.

“So you came,” Dean muttered, and She nodded. A small, nervous movement, Her whole body tensed above Dean’s. Like She expected him to shove Her away. 

And it was boiling in the cavity of his chest. She ran again, when She swore she wouldn’t. 

But she was here now. Looking at Dean like he was the most important thing in the world. Like he could possibly hurt something as vital as Her. And he doesn’t want to break Her. Touchable. In Dean’s hands, with one still covering Her’s and the other on Her waist.

He knew that, the longer he sat in it, the pit was only going to split further open.

But She was filling it with light.

And right now, he’d been in the dark too long to care.

“I missed you.” He said, his voice barely a rasp, and something flashed over Her features.

“I missed you, too.”

She squeezed his hand three times, with the words. 

Okay. Everything’s okay. 

It wasn’t. He wasn’t even that angry with Her. It just hurt. It goddamn hurt, that She hadn’t come back. Maybe She’d known what he was doing, while She was gone, and decided She wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe he’d been insane to think She’d ever want to crawl back to him at all, when he was still from the mud.

But She’d saved him. And he could see it, haunted in Her eyes. All those stars behind Her gaze, crashing back down to Earth to only look at Dean. Look at him like She loved him. And maybe She did, but Dean couldn’t have that be a burden. An obligation. Something that made this all worse, to be loved by something as low as Dean.

So he would be better. Do better. Figure out where he went wrong, and never be something She ran from again. 

She was still looking at him. And he was out of words to say it. How he’d missed Her, and how he loved Her, and how fucking sorry he was for all of it. 

But when he reached up to cup Her face, She leaned into the touch, and Dean knew. He was bad at saying it. He’d fuck it up.

He’d just have to show it. 

She stared at Dean, as he guided Her down, but melted into him all the same. 

Pressed Her lips against Dean’s, as his hand glided up Her back, and made a soft, blissful sound as he kissed Her with a little more than he’d ever had before. Then She kissed him back—wrapping Her legs carefully around his torso and crashing so deep into him he couldn’t really think past Her apple on his tongue and warmth in his arms—and it was like breathing. 

Simple and natural and thoughtless. The most crucial thing, to move his lips against Her’s and press his tongue between Her lips. To keep holding Her as she made a high, sweet sound and ran Her fingers through his hair.

She was still fragile in his arms. Dean still felt the weight of the whole year, hanging over their heads. But it wouldn’t matter, as long as he got to hold Her and kiss Her like this. Like he’d been made to do it, with his mouth slotted perfectly against Her’s and every sound Dean pulled from Her like music. He was still Her shadow, and not time would wipe him away. 

He’d love Her in the dark, as long as She kept being light.

And it wasn’t something She could stop being. She just was. Even with Her body shivering under Dean’s touch—his hand dipping under Her shirt to skim up Her back, Her neck being angled by his careful hand—and way Her nails dug into his shoulders, She was still light. 

Her light had never been pure white enough for it to just stop shining. It was made with a little bit of darkness. Made of silver. 

So She’d last. 

And Dean would stay Her shadow, nipping at Her lips as they drew back for ragged breaths, until She left him in the dark.

“Don’t leave.” She whispered against his lips. “I- I’m sorry, Dean, I’m sorry-“

“I know.” He murmured, bumping their noses. “I know, Princess-“

A sob shook Her body, and Dean could taste the salt of Her tears. “I’m sorry, please don’t leave me-“

“Hey.” He ran his thumb down Her nose, and those pretty lashes fluttered. “I’m not leaving, sweetheart. Just- Don’t run again.” His voice was hoarse. “Please.”

“Oh- Okay.”

She said it like it was simple. Hooked Her pinky with Dean’s and silently swore to it, as if it was nothing. And when She spoke, Her words sounded like a plea.

“All the way down?”

He leaned back to look at Her, and there it was again. That look. 

And Dean had tried being mad at Her. Tried hating Her, as well. 

It never worked in his favor. 

And She always came back.

“Yeah, Princess.” He squeezed Her hand three times, giving Her a small—but so painfully fucking real—grin. “All the way down.”

End Note: I'm sorry for edging you guys, thank you for trusting.

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[babacontainsmultitudes]

When will my husband return from Dewar...

[coconutdays]

sex, money, feelings dont die

s. you come back home after spending a year away from your friends, suguru geto among them. and you think you've gotten over your suppressed feelings for him, you think

w.c. 11.2k

w. fem! reader, kickboxer/business student!geto! x reader , mutual pining! friends to lovers! fluff!, smut! virginity loss! (but it's not that big of a deal, you'll see why) masturbation!

a/n: ummmmmm I thought about this while watching a suguru edit. this is a little slowburn, but not painful I think idk I stayed up to finish this. will proofread later I need sleep. mwah hope you like.

you are beat up the first morning you wake up in your home after spending a year abroad.

your head is pounding, the light is agonizing to stare into, and your back is tense after spending the last 24 hours running around with the fattest luggage on earth, sleeping on stiff airport lounge seats, and sleeping on the stiff plane seats, or at least trying to.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

fuck's sake

"let me sleep, let me sleep, let me sleep." you groan painfully into your bed, body short circuiting on the jet lag and reminiscing on the peaceful sleep you were just having.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

"oh my-"

knock-knock

your head whirs up and looks towards where the door to your apartment would be outside of your room. and you hear a faint, familiar voice calling out your name cheekily.

exhausted, you get up and out of bed to open the door.

"as much as I missed you guys, I just traveled across the world and my body is still recovering..."you groan, walking to your couch and flopping onto it, eyes still a bit puffy.

"my body too would also miss the crisp baguettes and wine for breakfasts," gojo slyly comments as he slides into your apartment with one step and plops into your--small--beanbag, his legs poke out comically while he inhabits the light pink ball of foam.

a light whiff of cigarette smoke and cherries inhabit your room too when shoko throws a warm? bag on your back and picks up your legs so she can sit underneath them.

"I told him you wouldn't want people at your door this early." she sighed aloofly.

"nothing a breakfast bagel can't fix." gojo snickers

you finally open your eyes and sit straight up, digging into the brown paper bag that was once on your back

"or two." he adds, watching with a smirk as you take a hearty bite out of the first bagel

when you gulp it down and clear your throat, you point a finger at him then to your suitcase in the corner of the room, "there are four boxes of pierre herme macaroons in there with your name written all over them."

"aw you thought about me."

"yeah I really do," you speak gruffly between heavenly bites, "paris doesn't make this shit."

"there's no bagels in Paris?" shoko tilts her head, a blank look in her eyes

"shut up, you know what I mean." you almost moan, faintly rolling your eyes back in pure bliss before forming a realizing thought and turning to gojo, "did you come here this early for your macarons gojo satoru????"

his smile is blank and so are his eyes, you can tell, even through his stupid glasses.

"eat that second bagel, why don't you, my favorite friend who I've missed so dearly."

right before a slight scowl forms on your face, shoko interjects.

"he did cry when nobody else wanted to drink the nth pornstar martini with him at the function the other day."

"hey!"

you giggle a little and feel your sleepiness and grumpy mood fading away. (thank you gojo's breakfast bagels and shoko's disrespect)

"no need to worry anymore babygirl, daddy's home." you smile, lazily hugging the armrest of your couch

gojo huffs and puts a hand close to your face, "I saw your stories unfaithful slut, those cheese fiends were matching your freak, with espresso martinis of all things."

"but did I ever drink a pornstar martini without you?" you poke back, slapping his hand away

you can tell gojo is thinking and has been left speechless, but just as much as he's a victim to shoko, so are you.

"that she posteddddd."

"you guys are not allowed to wake me up this early and bully me, either of you," you state as you jump up and address the both of them before heading to your fridge to serve yourself some water.

"anyways, where's suguru?"

"training." shoko answers airily as her head lolls onto the armrest.

"he's been super focused lately right? I think he deactivated his instagram like the first month of me being in France."

you remember feeling bummed out every time you posted a pretty picture and never saw him in your views.

"that's an understatement," satoru scoffed snarkily, "I do not understand such a dedication to kickboxing when he's deadset on business."

"can't a guy have hobbies?" shoko questions, not at all seemingly bothered by Geto's dedication to sport such as satoru is.

"you guys want coffee?" you ask, about to turn your back to turn on ur espresso machine.

"yes," gojo says before adding a quick, "but from the cafe two blocks from here."

eyes squinted, you turn again and lean against your kitchen countertop, "I literally have a coffee machine."

"you drink that pretentious small espresso shot crap, weirdo, I don't want that"

"okay but I can just pour milk for yours?"

"I doubt you can make an iced vanilla biscoff latte here." he scoffs

"satoruuuuuu~" you whine, exhaling as you stare up at your ceiling, "I have to wash my face and get ready! I wasn't mentally prepared for that."

"I'll buy you a pistachio matcha latte," he grins, toothy and sharp, "with that creamy oatmilk you like that's an extra 2 dollars."

"I missed you and your bank account so, so much," you say whole heartedly, sending him quick air kiss of appreciation with your middle and index finger as you trot into your bathroom to start getting ready.

on the walk to the cafe, you fight and try to suppress the wondering your conscious has for suguru geto.

you're friends, have been since your freshman year of college, and that's all you have been. there's always been a feeling there in regards to him, but you've never touched on it for more than you've thought about it (repeatedly.) you just couldn't bring yourself to break that peaceful friendship or to even think about crossing it.

sure you noticed the day he deactivated his socials.

sure you like wearing his hoodie/jackets and acting like nothing of it.

but it's not like you took up the scholarship offer in Paris because maybe your favorite city in the world could distract you from hoping he'd ever flirt with you.

it did

"oh is that the rock climber?" shoko asks as she peers over your shoulder and onto your phone.

"indeed it is," you mutter cheekily as you answer the French fling's text, "he thought I was leaving tomorrow instead of yesterday, lmao"

"no goodbye sex?"

"fingering me is hardly sex," you look at her with a side eye

"woah, couldn't get over the 50/50 thing after all huh?"

"never," you sighed, putting your phone back in your pocket, "the least he could do was service me a little with a few orgasms after I had to pay for my own drinks."

"so who did you fuck?" satoru interjected, visibly curious as he stood in line with you guys and simultaneously read the coffee menu for any new sugary drinks

"nobody," you sighed, "didn't feel like anyone was worthy losing my card to."

but all this and here you are, shoving thoughts of him to the back of your mind. it's all become so natural that compressing any thought of geto isn't an overthought process anymore. you've forced yourself to become near careless about him, silencing the voice that cares every minute of every day. you don't know if you're in love with him or containing a small crush on him, that's how scared you are.

"understandable," satoru reasons, whilst picking his phone out of his pocket to read something.

"hey, look at that, haibara wants us all to come for drinks at his place tonight," blue eyes sparkle at you from beneath his glasses that he's purposely let slide downwards, "you know he makes the best lychee and passionfruit martinis."

"and dirty martinis." shoko pipes in

both you and gojo stare at her in slight disgust before he returns to giving you his puppy face.

"as long as there's a ride home involved, I hate sleeping at other people's places."

satoru stands straight up in glee and claps his fingers together, "great! don't worry about that, suguru doesn't drink anymore because of how uptight he's been lately."

the whole day becomes hang out with satoru and shoko day after that. you can't exactly go home by the time you're done with your matcha latte and your stomach starts rumbling for lunch, especially when trust fund baby satoru offers to pay for lunch. then he drags you both into a museum he's been wanting to see, and suddenly it's nearing sundown and it's time for dinner.

"let's go buy pizzas for haibara!" satoru exclaims with a pep in his step as he leads the way for you and shoko to follow after him.

when you get to haibara's apartment, everyone's already there.

various chimes of your name are said as you begin to greet everyone after being away for so long.

utahime hugs you particularly tight and fusses over you, "thank god you're back, you look so beautiful, shoko's too careless to have conversations with sometimes."

fearing your friend would be offended, your mouth open and closes, unable to figure out what to say until you turn to look at her sleazed on the couch and already lighting a cig.

"it's true," she shrugs

"I'm glad to see you too hime." you smile, embracing her in the hug again.

you hear a familiar voice speak when you let go of the embrace

"there wasn't really anything for me to wear haibara, had to settle for this shirt."

geto stands at the door to haibara's bedroom, one hand up and holding onto the frame as he calmly peers down at his shirt and then to the owner of it.

why was he wearing haibara's shirt? and why does it look so...

and suddenly he's looking at you, eyes softening just a bit as he greets you by your name and starts to walk towards you.

you'd imagined, hoped seeing him again would warrant more excitement from him, but no he's still the same calm and collected guy he's always been.

"suguru" you smile, ignoring the way your heart races at the side hug he gives you

well, his body isn't the same. god, how often has he been training? you didn't know his arms could be that veiny.

"satoru texted me that you've been with him and shoko all day." he starts, lips only slightly, minisculely turned upwards as a way of being polite towards your presence.

"since eight in the morning." you sigh, looking over at the freakishly tall giant already breaking into one of the many pizza boxes he bought.

"he missed you." suguru looks at his best friend too, making a face of disgust for a moment when satoru finishes a pizza in two bites.

"I missed him too," you breathe, smiling a little, "wallet or no wallet."

that makes suguru laugh and you're so thankful tails evolutioned off of humans or else you'd have a hard time controlling the urge to wag it back and forth at the reward that was making geto suguru laugh.

"I missed you." he says once his laugh falters away

"me too." you respond, fighting the awkward and terrible pit in your stomach

did he really miss you? miss you? how much did that mean for him?

it doesn't seem like a lot because he gives you a small grin before walking towards shoko and striking up a conversation with her. and gojo hithers you to him from across the room to start drinking your first martini of the night.

you've forgotten how drunk you get with gojo.

your vision is tunneled and you dont know what time it is or what is even what.

"oh brother." you groan, stabilizing yourself on the kitchen countertop. you had gotten up from being sprawled on gojo's back on the floor because you wanted a slice of pizza and the journey seemed quite treacherous now. so far, yet so close. you just had to open that pizza box.

until a hand made its way into your vision, opening the box, getting a slice, and offering it up to you. its a pretty hand, a silver ring on the index finger, veins running up it and onto the arms

of suguru

he's smiling fondly at you

"hungry?" he asks in amusement

"yes, thank you." you gulp, otherwise unable to show how flustered you are due to the immense alcohol in your system and insatiable hunger.

once you take the slice from him, geto begins to slide a chair out and helps you land on it considering it was a little high.

he sits across from you on the kitchen island.

"parmesan?" he has the bottle in hand, jeering it to you

"mhm" is all you can say through a muffled mouth and take the parmesan bottle for yourself.

"is this anything like the pizza over there?" he asks again in amusement

"no," you shake your head gruffly, almost groaning from how wonderful the taste is on your inebriated mouth, "but I can appreciate this right now."

you feel as if you've finished your pizza far too soon, knowing that the part of you that's embarrassed is subdued and screaming that you've been far unladylike in front of suguru, who eyed satoru so disapprovingly when he did it.

suddenly,

"you have some..." suguru leans over just a smidge and brushes your cheek with his thumb, "...parmesan dust."

"oh," you try to keep your jaw closed amid the surprise of his actions, "thank you."

"you want another slice?" he nudges his head in the direction of the box next to him, eyes innocently waiting for a response.

he sees you open and close your mouth again, hesitant on a response before he decides for you and gets you another slice.

"you need something else in your stomach to keep the martinis some company." he smiles a little and motions for you to look at the plastered satoru on the floor, "he's done already, so don't worry."

"thank you." you almost pout as an appreciation to his mercy and figure you should ask what was on your mind earlier, after chewing and swallowing a bite gracefully. you were going to be more conscious of this second slice.

"why are you wearing one of haibara's shirts by the way?"

"Oh," his eyebrows only raise a little and he looks down at the extra tight black shirt, "he was trying to imitate those street vendors that make slushies out of regular soda before you three got here."

"and haibara being him, I figure somewhere along the lines it erupted all over you." you giggled a little, imagining the mess

"that you are correct." geto smizes. he then looks around to the various bodies thrown across the room and zones in onto the floor.

"are you ready to go now satoru?" he asks, one brow quirked up, wondering if his best friend heard him or not.

you turn a little to look at him too and he only turns his face so that his cheek is resting against the floor.

"I don't think I'm even ready to get up," he grumbles, "you guys can go without me, I'm fine right here for the night."

feeling alert already at the idea of being alone with geto, you ask satoru if he's sure

"your back is going to hurt a lot in the morning Toru." you plead internally

"don'ttttttt careeee." he burbles

you're about to open your mouth to urge him again, but suguru gets up and nudges your arm lightly, keys already in hand, "don't worry about satoru, he doesn't have anything important tomorrow anyways."

then his hand is reached out towards you, probably to help stabilize you as you get off the ridiculously tall chair.

hazily, you take it and start to follow him out of the apartment and to the parking lot

his back looks really good in that shirt, you note. every muscle is carefully outlined, every movement of his being emphasized.

"hey," he turns his head over his shoulder to peer down at you, "why're you back there."

suguru then reaches a hand behind your back lightly and motions you to walk in front of him.

"oh, my bad," you murmur, having been snapped back into reality.

the rest of the walk to his car is quiet. and when you get there, suguru's leading you to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, and leaning in to buckle you in without even asking if you could do it.

when he starts the car, you see the time on his front screen.

3:43

"oh my god," you gape at the time, then look at geto while he starts to back out.

one hand on the back of your seat.

"hm?"

and that's all it takes for you to resume what you were going to originally say, finding all the scattered gibberish in your brain to form and communicate the thought.

"weren't you telling utahime that you had to get up early for training? it's so late..." you point at the time

"I do," he shrugged, eyes on the emerging road

"I'm sorry," you lightly pout in guilt

suguru gives you a quick once over and he grins so faintly, "I don't mind."

"let me send you money for a coffee or something." you turn in your seat to look at him pleadingly, eyes scanning him for any hint of resentment

he laughs

"I'm flattered," he smirks, amusement lingering in his tone, "but I'm not taking your money."

you slump in your seat at the rejected offer before you remember something and quirk up in your seat a little

"at least let me give you the gift I got you when we get to my place?"

"sounds like the perfect exchange." he nods

when you wake up, its 1 p.m. and you're surprised you slept through the many alarms on your phone.

you remember everything from the night before and you're not hungover, thank god.

oh

you reminisce on the moments you shared with suguru, even the ones you're embarrassed about.

"arghhh why did I force him to walk all the way up for his gift," you groan into your pillow, "wasted like fifteen more minutes of his time."

a small shriek leaves you as you headbutt yourself on the bed, "why did I do that."

its been about a week and a half since haibara's hang out. which has given you enough time to finally get used to being back home. you reorganized your place to accommodate for all the trinkets and decor you brought from Europe and cleaned out your closet.

you finished everything in time for your hangout with satoru

"Hey Toru." you lean down to give him a quick hug from where he's seated snugly, slurping on a sundae

and suguru

"hey." you breathe, not gulping when he gets up and hugs you to greet you.

when you sit down, you notice your heart is racing and your breathing is just a bit labored

probably the long walk over

"we got you strawberry mochi and a matcha latte," gojo mutters through the straw he's still slurping on, eyes zoned in on particularly nowhere? on the table in front of you all.

never separate this man from his sweets...

"oh thank you satoru." you say appreciatively, happy he thought of you

"thank suguru," he mutters back, "he paid."

your eyes drift to suguru, who smiles unphased, and lifts a hand up to minimize the gesture of paying for you, "satoru knew your order already, I just offered to pay."

"oh," you try not seem too disappointed that he didn't go out of his way to know your order, "well, still, thank you."

"it's no problem." he settled back into his seat comfortably

"didn't offer to pay for my sundae." satoru rolled his eyes

geto's eyes creased a little, as if internally smiling, and said, "didn't you eat out almost a third of my fridge yesterday?"

"whatever," satoru rolled his eyes, "buy me a second sundae then, im already finishing this one up."

"I'm not familiar with anything you've just said. are you feeling light-headed?"

"oh puh-lease," satoru starts to nag, "you can hear me just fine. stop acting like an idiot."

suguru fakes a look of confusion and concern, which makes satoru bolt up out of his seat and start heading towards the door to enter the parlor. and you're pretty sure you hear him say something about taking a bite out of your mochi when you're not looking.

the idiocy makes you giggle a little and you don't notice when suguru turns his head from looking over at a grumpy satoru to you, a slight upturn of his lip at being able to make you laugh.

flash!

after a blinding white light attacks your eyes, you're met with five schoolgirls, all with their phones out.

you'd think they'd be ashamed but?

"you guys are going on my Pinterest!" one giggles

another one is laughing almost as if she's on a sugar rush, very manically, "I hope my boyfriend is as hot as him one day. oh my god. aha aha ahahahahah!"

"you're so so so pretty." a ditsy one with a valley accent deadpans, nearing your face and making immense eye contact, "I know that you guys have the hottest sex."

your jaw drops and you look at suguru in shock, embarrassment out the door at being a coupe and more surprised by the actual words these teenagers are spilling out.

suguru's no better, no other movement on his face except for his raised eyebrows and wide eyes.

the ditsy one speaks again before they start to trail off, "I'm using you as hairspo for my next hair appointment."

and it goes in one ear and out the other because your mind is still stuck on the, 'I know that you guys have the hottest sex.'

what the fuck? what kind of crap was she imagining?

what was she thinking about?

hottest sex?

like flashbacks that never happened, vivid images of you on your knees and suguru drilling into you from behind play in your mind quickly.

he's so big in person and the thought is so palpable when he's next to you...

stop!

you feel your cheeks heating up and a shiver runs up your back.

you try to laugh to brush it all off, "they were probably high or something. or just really really extroverted..."

the tips of suguru's ears are the slightest pink as he finally makes eye contact with you.

"yeah," he breathes, "without a doubt."

"what were those schoolgirls yappin about?" satoru asks, a bit careless, as he plops back into his seat, a new sundae in hand

"nothing."

"nothing."

satoru glares a little at the both of you, his brow quirked up a little, "yeah sure."

you're shopping later at the mall with the both of them, a slight awkwardness between you and suguru that the both of you cover up by only really interacting with satoru and not the other unless satoru was involved in the interaction.

satoru is drowning in what looks like eight bags of clothes when he halts your walking and jeers his head towards the store next to him.

Victoria's Secret

"Didn't you come with us so you could buy new stuff here?"

Yes you had.

But that was before a group of teenagers made you feel awkward about discussing/associating anything nearing sex with suguru now.

"yeah..." you try not to stutter as you start to walk in

god, satoru is so unabashed and careless that he's going to accompany you too. and if satoru goes in, so does suguru. if suguru didn't want to, he would surely have to right now or else satoru would question him.

you know what, maybe suguru isn't overthinking it like you are. surely he isn't clinging on to the idea of sex with you.

yes, exactly.

bracing yourself, you walk into the store, pick up a bag, and ready yourself to start filling it up.

you've forgotten about your awkwardness with suguru after a while of being amazed by all the pretty options in front of you

and satoru, for the most part, is quite mature in this store.

for the most part...

"ha, look at those," he points at a mannequin wearing crotchless panties and at the same panties decorating the table beneath it, "get them."

disgruntled and rolling your eyes, you respond, "yeah sure when I'm getting screwed."

"girls wear lingerie for themselves you know."

"yeah I know," you huff, "and I do. but I can wear crotch on lingerie under my clothes. that's just plain old porn panties for not single people."

"you're such a debbie downer," he groans, "if I were a girl, id wear those with or without out a man."

"well, im a girl and you're not so." you say in a sing song voice as you check out a bra in your hands and toss it into your shopping bag.

"wait where's suguru?" gojo says, having noticed that his best friend's presence was quiet.

and that was all it merely was because suguru was scrolling through his phone, seemingly unphased by the store, paying no attention to what you and satoru were looking at.

"oh." gojo shrugs before he moves on to checking out more underwear with you.

and he spots a particularly cute set of babydoll's that you've grown enamored with, staring at all of them.

"those are very cute," your white-haired friend says

"and very expensive," you whine, having seen the price tag on one of them, "I don't know which one I want to take home."

"hm," satoru whirls around and looks between the mannequin wearing the see through pink one and the see through baby blue one.

"hey suguru." he calls out

suguru looks up from his phone and is slightly confused by where satoru's standing.

satoru has his chin in his hand, "which one do you think would look better on her."

suguru faintly gulps and quickly regains his normal calm confidence, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

"whichever one she'd feel the best in." his eyes smile for him

"oh don't be a prude," satoru gags before pestering him again, "really, pick one."

"why don't you pick satoru?"

"because I think both are too pretty." his eyes gleam, staring at both of the babydolls in question

suguru sighs then looks at you, who so happens to already be eyeing him down, eyes wide for a response.

"the pink one." he mutters quickly, eyes immediately darting away.

there's a loud sigh of relief from satoru when suguru finally makes a decision and you pick up the pink one sitting at the table.

"I think that's all for me," you breathe, skimming over the rest of the store quickly.

and before you make your way to the register line, you stop near suguru

"thank you sugu."

it's a Friday night that you've got all yourself the next month following the incident with those girls and suguru.

you've shaved, washed and blow dried your hair, did a thorough skincare routine, and put on the babydoll you bought last month.

you feel hot and have plans...in mind.

you've seen a little bit of stuff on twitter just for a spur

and there you are, sitting on your dildo, cheeks heated as you sit up and down on it.

you're unabashedly thinking about suguru.

truth be told, you haven't been able to get him off your mind since those schoolgirls planted the thought of that hot sex with him.

he's just so big and lean.

god

you remember satoru making you go with him to pester suguru while he worked out, considering his gym was next to his apartment complex and he had agreed to invite you both and shoko for a watch party of the scream movies that day.

he looked mad when he trained on his kickboxing, eyebrows furrowed and eyes dark on whatever he was taking out his strikes on.

you figured he'd make a similar face beating your pussy up.

that same trail of sweat making its way down his spine. thigh veins twitching all the same at the force he'd use on you.

"su-"

knock knock

the blood drains from your face and you immediately feel yourself getting dry

"oh my god, who's here at 10 p.m.?!" you whisper shout to yourself as you scram to put your dildo back in its hiding place and through your night robe on.

you take a breather and check through your door's peephole

a big blue eye meets yourself and zooms out when satoru leans back and reveals that suguru is also with him.

you open the door quickly, slightly angry.

"why are you guys here?"

you keep your eyes on satoru, afraid even looking at suguru would reveal somehow that you'd just been vividly imagining sitting on his dick.

satoru seems impressed as he looks at your very short night robe, thighs out in the open and he shrugs, raising a bag of fast food in his hand, "wanted to hang out with you."

unable to refute his friendly gesture, you move so that the both of them can come in.

"you were ready for bed early," he comments, setting down the food on your kitchen island.

"it's ten p.m. satoru." you sigh, spotting that they didn't get drinks, so you try to find some cups for the Diet Coke in your fridge.

you realize they're in a cupboard.

that you'd have to lean up to

you're about to ask satoru to help you, but he's far too focused in setting out the food for all of you and suguru's just there, standing watching you and satoru, mostly you, in awkward silence.

"um, suguru," you pipe

he fully turns his attention to you. argh, you didn't think having 100% percent of his attention would be so drastic than having 80% of it as opposed to earlier, but it did

"can you get some cups from here?" you point at the cupboard, "I'd get them but uh-"

you look down at your very short nightrobe and exposed skin and suguru's ears turn pink at the tips

"yeah, no problem." he says quickly, moving to open the cupboard and gets out three ceramic pink cups.

you, meanwhile, open your fridge and get the Diet Coke jug you've had chilling, thankful you put it in the top shelf and not the bottom, having avoided the risk of bending to get it.

you sit down next to suguru, unfortunately, since satoru took the single seat across.

"so," you start to pour drinks for all of you, "what were you guys up to before this?"

"nothing," satoru mumbles through a mouthful of fries, "we were supposed to watch t.v. at suguru's place but the internet went out in his building."

one of your brows raises, "and you came to hog my t.v.?"

"no," satoru glares at you a little, "the burger place was right by your place and I wanted to stop by."

"plus," he adds, "I didn't bank on you being ready for bed so early."

then something lights up in his head and he stares at you quizzically, a smirk forming, "were you getting off before we got here? is that why you're all dolled up and dressed for bed like you've got first name dil last name do coming over?"

"ugh," you groan, "gross, satoru!"

"shoko and I went with you to buy that eight inch purple girth monster," he laughs, "you were sooooooo on it."

you roll your eyes and decide to ignore him, taking a bite out of the burger in front of you.

"take it easy on her satoru," suguru swoops in softly to defend you, "I remember how disgruntled you were when I found you with the door open during our time as roommates."

"hey! we agreed to never mention that to anyone else!"

you start to laugh, embarrassment only a tinge less than it was before, thanks to suguru.

although their sudden presence had interrupted your orgasm, you looked forward to the moment in which they would leave.

but satoru somehow, being the annoying giant he is, finds a way to make suguru and him stay the night at your place.

"satoru, I don't think my back can support sharing this couch with you." suguru tries to reason

"oh come onnnnn, we've shared less at frat parties before" satoru chippers, beginning to roll himself into a ball in one of your blankets.

pitifully, you share a look with suguru and hand him a blanket.

"sleep well guys." you yawn before turning off the lights and heading to your room.

your very empty room.

and you can feel your panties dampening again.

no you shouldn't.

you get into your bed and stuff yourself under covers, hoping your body gets the message that it needs to sleep.

it doesn't

so you count sheep.

nope

force your eyes closed and hope it just knocks you out.

nope, you were in that weird limbo of sleep and no sleep.

you don't know how much time has passed but you assume its late enough that both of the boys are asleep, so you shoot up out of your bed and lean over to open your nightstand, flipping your covers off in the process.

the desperation never wore off, your panties were drenched and you didn't even have to play with yourself to spread your lubrication or open yourself up a little.

biting the bullet, you lift a leg up with one arm and use the other to press the head of your dildo inside.

your breathing was extra labored, but that was nothing compared to the moans you'd let out if your friends weren't sleeping in the room next door.

then you start fucking it into yourself slowly, inch by inch, and it feels oh so good. even if it was see through, you pull down the straps of your nightgown and let your tits out, letting the air hit them and put you in a further state of vulnerability.

then in a matters of seconds, you're pounding yourself as hard as you can without making a noise from either lips.

your eyes are rolling back and it's hitting that angle so well that-

the relief washed over you faster than expected, orgasm a little ruined because you wanted to relish in the feeling longer.

so there you are, dildo still inside, one hand over your stomach while you let your breathing go back to normal.

"I needed that anyways." you whisper to yourself, feeling your chest heaving up and down.

knock knock

"you've got to be fucking kidding me." you shriek to yourself in the quietest manner possible as you rapidly stash your dildo away and fix your nightgown back on.

you dash to your door and open it a little, only letting the top of your head and eyes peer through the side considering what you were wearing.

there's suguru, hair down and shirt ridden up just a little, face a little surprised at the way you opened the door

"yes?" you ask, quickly peering at his happy trail

"is it alright if I use the restroom?" he asks, a little sleepy

"yeah," you gulp, "just let me get back in bed so I'm not indecent when you come in."

"alright, just tell me when."

and you leap onto your bed, immediately tugging your cover on top of you.

"you can come in." you say meekly, hoping he can't see how disheveled you are. the moon was especially bright tonight and it always lit up your room nicely during nights like this.

suguru opens the door immediately and smiles at you a little as he walks towards your restroom.

you smile awkwardly back

he pees you assume, because you've barely seen three tiktoks on your phone by the time he comes out.

"did I wake you?" he asks while he approaches you on your bed, taking a seat at the end.

having him so near the spot where you just pummeled yourself to orgasm made you shiver a little in fear.

"no," you almost stutter and put your phone down, "I was struggling to sleep."

"so was I" he laughs a little, "satoru sleeps so selfishly."

and your blabber mouth, stupid fake facade that you aren't affected at all by him speaks up.

"you can sleep with me."

you're both caught by surprise at your offer except only suguru expresses it, his eyebrows have raised innocently

and you cough up another remark, "it's not like you can really see what I'm wearing and you can just turn to the other side."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable-" he's about to get up

and you act so stupidly again

"I don't mind suguru, your body needs good rest with all the strain you put on it." and there you are, flipping the covers open from the other side of your bed and tapping it for him to get into.

hesitantly, he gets up from the end of your bed and walks towards the open spot, "are you sure?"

"yeah," you nod, other hand hidden under the cover and gripping the sheets under you, "we've slept cramped up next to each other on road trips. what's the difference with all this space?"

you both know the difference

but he slowly gets under the covers with you anyways, positioning himself on his back, stiff as a board as he looks up and tries not to look at you, well that's what it looks like and you understand why.

"I'm sorry if I snore." you peep, also staring up at the ceiling

suguru turns to look at you a little, "you snore?"

"I don't know..."you respond, following in his lead and peeking at him from the corner of your eyes, "but I'd be really embarrassed if I did."

"well, I'm sorry if I do too." he gives you a small smile, one of those tight lipped ones, no teeth, just the softness the moment in them.

then your phone suddenly starts ringing loudly.

and you scram to shut it off, putting your phone on night mode

"who was that?" suguru peers at you, neck turned more to look at you now.

you gulp, "some guy from paris. I should block him soon anyways."

"you were seeing each other?"

well you did go out with him various times and continuously stayed lots of nights with him. hell you even showered with him a couple times.

"hardly." you brush off

"shoko would talk about you always spending the night at a Claude's place. didn't you text her that you had to pay for your own uber once?" he said it so smoothly, without a thought

you shrink a little into the bed, "well yeah but I never saw him as something serious and we never sealed the deal. I didn't think you'd know about him..."

"shoko often aired out what you'd be texting her in the moment." he breathed, one arm behind his head as he went back to staring at the ceiling again.

"so you know about how hard I partied and stuff?" you asked, hoping that maybe they showed him all your selfies and outfits, casual and sexy.

"yes." he nodded

he seemed so serious and a hopeful part of you wanted to say he seemed...jealous?

does he think you saw a lot of guys on your nights out? what is he thinking?

"I liked it," you started, making the path for a way to comfort him if that was the case, "but I wasn't a big fan of having guys try to pull me to dance with them. I missed you and satoru being there to stop guys from hogging on me."

his ears perk up a little and he looks at you again, almost as if he's waiting for you to continue, so you do, stupidly but it was at attempt

"I'm just glad I'm back with you guys."

"I'm glad you're back too."

"you guys finally freak it?"

you get a sudden whiplash and wake up to find satoru standing at the end of your bed, one leg propped up on it while he brushes his teeth.

you lean up, making sure to cover yourself with the covers and notice the comfort of suguru's arm leaving your head.

HUH

you're at a distance from him, you would've definitely noticed his body pressed against yours, but he's turned in your direction, one long arm splayed out and oh my god

you had been using it as a pillow.

he starts to wake up too at satoru's sudden intrusion and squints sleepily at him, starting to stretch a little. the covers must've shoved off of him a little because you can see his v-line when he groans.

which reminds you that he must've not recalled/felt you on his arm just now. he probably would've been so awkward.

you calm yourself down enough and go back to looking at satoru.

"oh probably not." satoru, with a mouth full of toothpaste, mumbles without a shame after looking at suguru still being fully clothed and your reaction at sleeping on him

"satoru," your vision and brain is still blurry from waking up, "is that my toothbrush?!"

"no," he borbles offended before walking back into your restroom and beginning to clean his mouth out with water, "I have a go-go bag here."

"since when do you have a go-go bag here? and where the hell did you hide it?"

"since you left me your apartment key to take care of your place before leaving," he's already spit out the last of his toothpaste and is sassily walking back to you and suguru, "and I have it in your closet all the way at the top."

you fall back into your bed, rolling your eyes at his weirdness, "why do you still knock then?"

"I have manners?" he looks at you like you just asked a stupid question

"I found his bag in my laundry room." suguru sighs, running his hands through his face.

"well it's impossible to hide anything in your apartment considering we're the same height." satoru rolls his eyes, "haibara's like 5'10 so he can't see that I have mine at the top cupboard above his stove."

"normal habits follow you satoru," suguru sighs, flipping the covers off his lower half and standing up, "but you outrun it."

"track was my thing in high school." he shrugs

you haven't seen suguru since then. it's been two weeks and you've no sight of him. you were hoping he'd make an appearance at satoru's apartment today, seeing as he was hosting a House of the Dragon watch party.

"oh suguru? he's not coming," satoru shrugs as he plops onto his couch, next to shoko and tugs the bowl of popcorn from her, "he's working on his startup. something about a big client needing something by tomorrow."

then it's been another week, no sight of suguru with anyone at any hangout.

you don't feel that optimistic when haibara and satoru beg the group to show up to the club tonight, with pregaming at satoru's apartment.

you're dressed in a tight little white dress when you show up to satoru's apartment, clinging onto shoko's arm because of how cold it was.

and you feel so happy that you still put 100% of effort into getting ready because there was suguru, seated on one of satoru's couches, watching in amusement as haibara attempts to teach satoru how to make a negroni.

your own excitement blinds you and without thinking, you slip in past everyone and stand in front of him.

"I thought you wouldn't be coming tonight." you look at him in slight marvel, astonished that he finally made an appearance

he makes a face of surprise at you, well you think it's surprise at what you said. you probably came off too strong because his ears turned a little red. what else could it be?

god he was taking a little too long to respond. had he been trying to avoid you? was he-

"it wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to leave your protection solely up to satoru would it?"

and just like that his soothing voice brushes over your entire body

"it would not." you giggle a little when you sit next to him, hoping your perfume reaches him and relishing in the fact that his arm was already hung over the part of the couch you inhabited.

"but what have you been up to? I haven't seen you in a while."

suguru's eyes soften at your curiosity, and unbeknownst to you, his heart swelled at the fact that you noticed his absence.

"I've been finishing up a personal project of mine," he says warmly, "if all goes well, I'll probably come close to affording an apartment like satoru's soon."

affording an apartment like satoru's soon?

that's like

a lot of money

a lot

and why is him getting more money in his bank account making you fawn even harder for him

well, the stability, duh.

but you have to act cool

"are you sure you want to live in the same apartment complex as satoru gojo?" you tease?

"I said like," he shoves your leg a little with his own, "I don't think I would be able to stand living under the same roof as him again."

"well I don't think he could either," you giggle, "he says you're too much of a homebody and always say you have food at home."

suguru makes no attempt to defend himself and shakes his head instead at the complaint from his best friend, "I find it wrong to say I'm guilty when there's nothing guilty about cooking your own meals."

"are you good at cooking? I know you posted on your close friends about some meals here and there, but it's been a while since you deactivated your account."

"I'd like to think I'm good," he pauses, looking at you for a moment before continuing, "I'd make a pasta for you but I don't want to challenge the likes of Italy and France."

"now that just sounds like an excuse to not cook for me," you squint your eyes and scrunch your nose at him playfully

"I make no excuses," suguru drinks from the glass of water in his hand, eyeing you with the same playful aura, "I'll let you try if you want, but you can't make any comparisons."

"deal." you huff a little, reaching your hand out towards him.

"deal." he agrees, setting down his glass to shake your hand.

you don't drink a lot in the pregame

or at the club

something about suguru being there, sober, and able to control every moment makes you want to do the same.

so you're surprised that you're not at all even tipsy when you gently grab his hand and motion for him to dance with you amongst the crowd of your friends and other strangers.

it doesn't really feel awkward.

satoru's dragged you plenty of times to dance with him. haibara's kinda twerked on you a couple of times.

how is this any different?

at least that's how your mind approaches it, unphased by the sensual rnb music and your waist in suguru's hand.

when your arms reach around his neck eventually, you note he smells intoxicating, like amber and leather.

when you've known the club to normally be a place where you cause a ruckus with satoru and haibara, this is quite the opposite.

you didn't know you could feel so grounded

maybe it was the lack of alcohol to spur on the party animal in you, but this was fine. your brain felt woozy enough from breathing in suguru's cologne.

it's only when you feel a tap on your back that you and suguru are interrupted.

suguru juts his jaw for you to look behind and when you turn, there's shoko a lighter and a cigarette in her hands. you and suguru follow her outside for her smoke break, the bare minimum for her protection, a norm.

"how come you haven't been following satoru's pace tonight with the drinking?" she sighs melodically as she puts a cig in her mouth and cusps a hand around it while the other lights it.

"um," you avoid suguru's presence, feeling something that you just can't quite point your finger at, "I think im pmsing, so...I don't want to trigger any cramps with the drinking."

"fair enough." she blows out a puff of smoke as she says that

"and when are you going to ever drink again suguru?" she lets her head fall on her shoulder, lazy eyes looking at him.

"when are you going to stop smoking those?" he asks in return, leaning against the wall behind him and looking at the people in passerby considering this was a busy street during the night.

"soon." she shrugs

you and suguru exchange a look between each other at the response. shoko's been saying that since freshman year.

and your small moment is interrupted when you see a frantic utahime waving her hand, nanami and haibara holding up a very pale satoru between them as they walk out of the club and towards you guys.

the three of you meet them at the middle and utahime starts to explain.

"satoru threw up on this vip table trying to make it in time to the restroom..." a slight look of disgust on her face

"you guys know I can't stand the smell of cheap vape smokeeee~"he whines from between his two friends, body slumped over

"oh." you also grimace imagining the situation

"we're going to walk him back to his place." utahime tries to convey with sorry eyes that she's sad the night had to end like this

"it's okay." you say and turn to shoko, "are you going with them?"

her place was on the same side of town as theirs, and they were probably going to stay at satoru's anyway. he had more than three bedrooms and was always ready for sleepovers.

"yeah," she says, moving forward to poke at satoru's chest, almost as if he were a lab rat, "you guys fine to-"

"nice tits pretty girl!" you hear a holler next to your ear

and its some guy walking by with his two other friends, clearly inebriated but its also clearly not enough for him to blame the behavior on it. and his target couldn't be anymore obvious when he's making the nastiest eye contact with you, or more so your chest.

"come again?" suguru says sternly at him, he didn't yell but...

you could hear him well and clear alright.

the guy stops walking and turns to you and suguru, speaking with a sassy stupor, "I said her tits were nice."

you look up behind you and suguru is biting his cheek, something you've never seen from him. you can tell he's mad and so can the other guy.

"you her boyfriend or something?" he smirks, relishing in the way suguru scowls at him as he nears the both of you, "if you're not saying shit ill fuck her little pussy right in front of-"

BAM!

multiple oohs are heard when suguru sucker punches him. and height is the only thing that helps your offender, because he does manage to stay up and land a punch to suguru's nose.

but before you can react and head over to check on him, like lightning, the guy is the ground after suguru hands him an uppercut.

and there goes satoru, vomiting on the side of the road too.

which you don't seem phased by because suguru just defended your honor, and won, so quickly.

but you're also really worried because his nose is bleeding when he turns around.

ignoring the pain of your heels finally setting in, you click clack over to him and move the hand he's using to grab at his nose so you can inspect him.

you're not sure if he can tell you're somewhere between feeling lusty and worried when he looks down at you, but he looks serious still as he makes eye contact with you.

and satoru barfs even more

"I can't handle blooddddd~" he cries which ushers a panicked utahime into calling shoko over and asking if you'd be fine heading back with suguru, making sure he's fine at the end of it.

when they start heading off, you pull out your phone from your purse, "let me get us an uber to your place."

your hands are shaking a little in adrenaline and you jump a little when suguru swipes your phone from your hand and hands you his, uber app already open.

he's continuously wiping his nose as he painfully murmurs, "not letting you leave my place alone, I'll drop you off at yours first, put your address, I'll pay."

worriedly, you want to deny him, but the thought is intimidated out of you when he stares you down.

"ok-okay." you speak a little shakily

so much for you thinking you'd be cool and calm in a situation like this.

you dragged suguru into your apartment the moment you got to your place. you had finally noticed the small cut on his nose bridge and near his eye and really insisted on patching him up.

you also were scared that he'd somehow get a brain bleed and die on the way home out of sheer anxiety. so you wanted to keep an eye on him for a while to keep your mind at ease.

suguru is sitting at the edge of your bed, watching as you rummage through your restroom for your first aid kid. and when you finally find it, you're rushing to him and setting it down next to him, beginning to filter through it for the alcohol wipes.

"close your eyes," you ask breathlessly, still feeling the after effects of your adrenaline, "I don't want to irritate your eyes accidentally."

suguru listens to you and closes his eyes, a slight grimace already on his face in preparation for the sting you're about to bring to his cuts.

he hisses a little when you press on them

"sorry."

"it's okay." his eyes scrunch a little and you can see his hand on his lap, opening and closing as a reflex to the sting.

then you take out the antibiotic ointment to start spreading a little on his wounds. his body relaxes a little when he sees that the bothersome part is over and he keeps his eyes open, watching you.

you feel so hot under his gaze, you can't help but blabber when you're in the process of putting cream on his nose bridge

"you really have been putting the work in at kickboxing huh." you say awkwardly, trying to do a fake laugh, but

"did I scare you?"

suguru's burning a hole into your face with how intensely he's looking at you

you almost choke on your breath

"no."

"you were shaking when you were typing your address on my phone."

oh he noticed

you didn't want him to misunderstand

"well you didn't scare me, but I was scared for you, still am. I don't want you to drop dead on the street." you answer a little shakily, having forgotten to reach for the small bandaids.

"besides what girl gets scared of the guy who defends her honor..." you add

"shoko almost gagged when nanami made a guy apologize to her." he quips

"well that's shoko," you shrug and look off to the side, "I liked it."

you're about to reach for the bandaids when his hand on is holding onto one of your arms, gentle but it sustains all your attention.

"what do you mean?"

"well we all know shoko's a lesb-"

"no, when you said you liked it."

explaining that to him is complicated. when you said that you liked it you know that you mean that your panties got a little sticky watching him spit out blood that tried to seep into his mouth from his nose. the memory makes you subconsciously rub your thighs together. but you'll just brush it off as a normal like, as in it flattered you.

unbeknownst to you, suguru spotted the movement between your legs.

"it was flatte-"

"then why do you look so nervous trying to tell me that?"

a bit exasperated and heavily flustered, you stomp your foot a little and avoid looking at him, "suguru, please stop. you're making me nervous."

"what's there to be nervous about?"

"we're just friends." he adds

and his eyes light up watching when your own shoot towards him, your offense front and center.

and for the first time, you can see how he looks at you with so much yearning?

"am I wrong?"

christ, has he always looked at you with this much desire?

you're speechless and even though the signs are pointing towards the obvious, you still form a sentence that spares your feelings.

"do you want to be wrong?"

"yeah."

you feel shaky again

and it's not because you're scared.

"can you please stop looking at me like that?" you beg, avoiding his eyes again, almost about to hyperventilate from the pressure his stare is putting on you.

he grabs your other hand and leers you close to him, breath tickling your neck since you're so stubborn on not looking at him.

"do you still want to be friends?" he asks

and even though it sounds seductive and suave, you can make out the slight genuine yearning to know if that's what you want.

so you look at him again, trying to swallow the nervous lump in your throat

"you know how I feel." you plead

"no I don't," he laughs a little painfully, "I've never said anything because I don't know, so tell me."

you stare at each other for a while, his patience everlasting as you muster up the courage to say something that shouldn't be so embarrassing.

"I don't want to be friends."

"do you want me to go home?" he asks, thumbs rubbing circles on your wrists.

and its the quickest answer you've given him so far

"no."

and you want it

bad.

so so so bad.

but you have to get the question off of your chest.

"what-what do you want to be?"

"each other's if you'll have me." he breathes, looking up at you still

he's saying all the right things. and he's here. you're freshly shaved and waxed and wearing the hottest lingerie under this. fucking hell you wouldn't even need foreplay to take him right now, you're preening at the thought of having him.

"do you think satoru packs condoms in his go-go bag?"

it just slips out of your mouth so easily and you want to be embarrassed, but you're to eager for that.

"I know he does." suguru gets up quickly, eyes darting to your closet and then to you, "are you sure?"

and it's like some sort of instincts take over because you take the hands that are holding yours and place them on your tits, motioning for him to squeeze them.

"I'm really sure."

the action has him baffled, a pink flush face you've never seen on him while he stands there taken aback. it gives you a little confidence to remove his hands and take off your dress. then you let him watch as you get on the bed, sitting on your heels as you take his hands in yours again to plead.

"I want you in me suguru."

"fuck." he curses, before rushing towards your closet and yanking the infamous go-go bag and tossing it next to the bed. he starts to take his shirt off soon after, immediately reaching for your face when he gets into the bed with you

he's a sensual kisser. sensual as in you're pretty sure it'd be illegal to kiss him in public.

he kisses like he's fucking your mouth with his own. and it has you shivering into his touch, pussy aching for him to fill you up.

you pull him in by the belt loops of his jeans and whine, "take it out please."

your words make him groan into your mouth and he reaches one hand down to help yours unzipper his pants and push them down.

you feel his raw length slap across and press onto your mound when he grinds against you

"you haven't done this before right." he almost says darkly as he stares down at where your bodies would be meeting soon.

"no." you moan, watching him as he stuffs his dick under your panties and slides it back and forth on your pussy lips.

he shivers at the contact and dips his head into your neck, mouthing and biting at the skin there, "fuck, you're actually drenched."

and for a moment, you both get rigid at the euphoric feeling of his tip catching on your hole so easily.

"I'm not sure I'm going to last long with you right now," he all but exhales shakily, hips still moving back and forth against you

"that's fine, just keep going."

and he's about to reach over in the bag for a condom when your lust takes over so much that you stop him and line him up with your hole.

"just do it like that please."

he moans as your ministrations and looks at you for reassurance, "are you sure?"

you can tell he's fighting so hard not to move

"just use my pussy please suguru, I need it so bad." you complain, reaching down to pull your panties further to the side, chest heaving from carnal need for him.

suguru leans closer to pull your see through bra down, and begins to suck harshly on one of your nipples when he starts bullying his cock into you.

you can feel every vein when he starts to sink into you and fuck, his tip is so snug and big, the feeling of it ridging against your insides every time he brings it in and out is dizzying.

you're so focused on the feeling of his thick dick filling you up that you've barely noticed how suguru's folded your legs back. both of you now entranced in the way he's balls deep in you, a loud wet pap sound accompanying every thrust of his.

"you like that sweet girl?" he heaves through deep fast thrusts, mesmerized by the way your stomach moves just a little every time he bottoms out.

words aren't something you're capable of right now because when you try to respond, all you let out is shriek

this is nothing compared to the way you've tried to pummel yourself with your dildo. his hands are everywhere and he's got you right where he wants you. you can't escape him.

and when you thought he couldn't his pace and force grows stronger.

you're basically screaming now.

"yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes." is all you can say, so dumb on his cock that you can't help but want more and more

"fuck, don't talk like that," he groans, almost as if to himself, "I'm gonna end up creaming your pussy if you keep that up."

"cream it please." you beg loudly, "wanna feel us get messy."

your tongue is basically salivating at the though of his balls coated in cum and slapping against your clit, strings of mess forming from how intense it is.

and he starts twitching into you, rushing to kiss you as he pumps inside of you. thank goodness, it feels like its spilling out of you in heaps.

you're so happy, so so happy.

"let's do doggy yeah?" you pull him in by wrapping an arm around his neck, grinding your hips against him for more

"whatever you want," he nearly whines, pulling out of you just so he can flip you over and push your back down.

you feel hornier like this, pussy more exposed and growing needier with the feeling of his cum seeping out of you. it makes you wiggle your ass for him to fuck you more already.

and without warning he does just that, slipping into you again and gripping your ass so hard when he starts using you like a fleshlight.

"fuck, yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes," he mumbles to himself, "tiny fucking wet pussy. love it so fucking much. fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck."

you're thoughtless, just utterly brain dead from how hard he's going on you, from how much your pussy is getting split open again and again.

this goes on for hours, so many positions covered by you and suguru. foreplay was never involved at all during that time, neither of you wanting to go without feeling each other so crudely connected for more than a second.

you actually fall asleep cockwarming him even, the both of you too stubborn to stop that you fell asleep still trying to get it on.

neither you or suguru hear the jingle of your apartment door being opened later that day. both too fucked out and tired to wake up.

but you do hear when the door to your own bedroom opens, and suguru quickly gets on the defensive, covering you with your bedsheets and about to-

"satoru!" you both yell.

"woah," you hear laughing through the door, "you guys really stayed up all night fucking? everybody's been calling you guys since two."

[sangunary]

Yandere Batfamily × other dimension Reader.

SYPNOSIS: Your other family are willing to kill to have you... So is your orginal family.

>Part 1< >Part 2<

The world you have left was turned into ruins in a matter of months. Barely any crime in the street of Gotham since the so called hero's were taking that job trying to find you.

The night became more dangerous than ever since they were willing to ruin their prestige reputation to bring back their lost bird.

"Tell me where the fuck they are before I blow your brain into pieces!"

Jason threatens the poor boy with guns against his head ready to pull the trigger if not satisfied.

Amongst the family Jason was taking it the hardest, he was already violent as he was but your sudden disappearance was taking a toll on him...

"I- I don't know anything! I swear... Please just don't kill me please!"

The boy beg as wet tears stream down his cheeks.

Nobody was safe now, their hero's have turned against them.

Even the Justice League were trying to reason with Bruce but he wasn't very willing to hear them screech about what justice was.

He wasn't batman at the moment, he was a father searching for their young one that have gone astray... He wasn't going to loose his precious bird because some freaks in costume tell him to forget.

A father that could not die at peace knowing he practically left his own child to rotting from the inside.

"... Kid you really are getting on my nerves."

Jason threatens as he push the cold end of the gun into his forehead, fingers dangerously close to the trigger.

"I don't know... I promise you... I don't know anything about her... Please..."

The kid's wept harder, their face contorting into one of sorrow and desperate in one frame... Their hands trembling badly as they hold onto Jasons hands as he was holding them by the back of his shirt leaving him off the floor. If the boy weren't to be holding onto the savage man he would he chocking.

"Kids... I have no problem shooting that clown in the head for joking around too much... What makes you think I would treat you any differently?"

Jason voice was loud and clear as the boy just couldn't stop sobbing.

Yes, it is true that the Joker was killed. More than one hand were tainted with blood. The rage of a bird is intense and brutal...

Suddenly the comma began to ring, prompting Jason to drop the kid flat on their ass. As he listened to the signal carefully.

"I have a trace... Everyone at the batcave, fast"

Barbara words were demanding and seem slightly anxious which was never a good sign. Ever since your sudden disappear she could barely get herself to get out of her operation room.

You used to stroll her around all the time and she wouldn't even notice you during those days. She would rather talk to herself than to you and personally asked you to not speak so she won't get agitated. Now she missed you badly.

She have been going through thousand of files, looking through files of anyone who have a criminal records, they don't have to he a major criminal... People who are arrested for playing loud music are also under her watch..

For month's she would send them out to meet specific rodents in hope of finding whoever was responsible for your disappearance. She doesn't always sit behind large tecnology she would also go out and beat some rodents in your name.

Jason was ready to leave but not before he turns back and look at the kid who was sweating profusely... Couldn't even look at his shadow due to fear.

With a bang the kids clenched onto his left leg which was bleeding profusely after Jason shot at it...

"I marked you down so don't ever think of doing anything I won't like. Cause next time your head would be display infront of your family..."

With that said he jump off the building going towards the batcave.

Jason was being extremely out of character even he could see that. He was protective of kid's especially one that reminded of him... Excluding you.

Whenever he saw your face he just can't help but be irritated. You remind him of himself as a kid, your big guilty eyes... How excited you were and all the others... You were just like him.

He shouldn't have taken his anger out on you for being a better version of himself.

He would avoid you like the plague, make your day worse than it had to be and how he made sure you'll never get the mantle.

He hated Tim for replacing him and he despite you for being happy.

He planned for weeks on how to make sure you never get that mantle... which was also a twisted way of getting revenge on Bruce.

He had broken your leg which was on accident. He was aiming for your spine but you moved and he shot at your knees instead.

Although he realised even if he didn't shoot you, you wouldn't inheret the mantle cause you were deemed too 'odd' by your father.

Bruce was originally going to re-home you since you were not fitting for the family, but after Jason shot you Bruce realised he had to take responsibility as his son shot you.

If it were to he anyone outside the family that were to shoot you he would still have re-homed you as soon as possible. So your presence could be swept under the rug faster and alot more efficient.

Inside the cave was gloomy as usual, the lingering smell of iron was strong and the air purifier were working extra hard.

"There's a problem in the multiverse..."

Barbara started.

"Again?"

Dick asked, he was wearing his usual black and blue uniform no red stain yet the strong sense of iron was coming off of him.

"It is unlikely but there is another way..."

They all listen to her patiently, concern about your well being and what kind of dimension you are currently on.

On the flip side, you were just having the best time.

Everybody cherished you, loved you. And you definitely took advantage of that.

Your scare were slowly healing just by being with the right people.

"Aha! Caught ya' birdie!" Before you could even process some words Dick pick you up. You forgot how strong they were since you never interact with your other family.

"This is humiliating get me down!" You struggle but not enough force, he was picking you up like how the monkey from lion king did to Simba.

"Do not fling her across the room! I demand you let her down this instead Richard!" Damian spoke as there he was holding pillows from Tims room.

Duke who just entered the room just look around and sigh, stealing the pillow that Stephanie was resting her head on.

"...Oh so you want war huh? Bring it on yellow ranger" Stephanie with a smirk stood up as she instead reach for the towel which was beside her.

"That's illegal... You have a machine gun and I have a knife? What kind of war is this?"

Before Stephanie could continue somebody throw a pillow with all their strength combined towards her. She stumble and plop down on the couch as she looked at the person.

"That's... what you get for taking my coffee, you witch"

Tim stood confidently near the entrance, his arm crossed as he glare at Stephanie who smiled without any guilt knowing damn well what she did was an unwritten crime in the family. Which nobody follows.

Before Stephanie could throw the remote at him someone else throw a literal a book at him which... unfortunately land at him hard.

"I've always wanted to do that..." Jason spoke as there were more books in his hands. The book's were for children under 4... a nursery book which was given to him by Tim each birthday of his...

Unfortunately the books were thin so it wouldn't hurt him much.

"Hey! that's illegal! Ganging up and using hard material is against the law we made!"

You watched as Stephanie throw a pillow at him, headshot. You couldn't help but feel the warmth crept up your heart and throughout your body.

"I-" "Æ!".

Dick thrown you onto the couch without warning as he was getting ready for war.

"What the fuck, Richard?"

You asked as you rub your back, for being young your back do hurt like it's about to retire already.

"Don't worry little wing... This bird won't hurt you..."

Dick assured you as he picked up a pillow that was laying on the ground.

"You dare to protect me from my blood... You've chosen the wrong blood to messed with..."

Damian dramatically spoke as you couldn't help but be abit entertain. It was like watching a theater kid's role-playing free style during break hour.

"This is like claiming a vulture is related to a Robin... Eitherway birdie you won't live to see that glorious light of victory. Cause I, the gre-"

Before Dick could continue Damian throw an award worthy throw at him, he stood tall and prideful as he look down on the older brother.

"They are worthy of sharing my blood, they woll be recognised as such"

"G-"

Before Tim could finish Damian throw a devastating hurl at him which made Tim to kiss the floor again.

"You should learn to shut that mouth of yours, Timmy"

Jason suddenly decide to give Tim some word of advice but after that he just dropped all the kid's book ontop of Tim.

Stephanie too ended up throwing a blanket which she pulled out of thin air at Tim who was hugging the floor.

Beneath the perly mansion lays a secret, underneath the Wayne manor the batcave was there... Bruce, Alfred, Cass and Barbara all together.

"Cass you will be by their side at all time... We do not know when or whom will come here to take her."

Bruce spoke, his eyes still on the large computer that was set infront of him. The screen show a picture of you, dna, background and alot of personal records.

"Yes, Will protect her. At all cost"

Cass replied, she was still in her usual indoor clothing but it still made her look badass. Barbara who was sitting on her wheelchair gave Cass a quick smile to reassure her that you were going to stay.

"Those alternative version of us clearly made it clear that they won't stop at any cause to have them... They won't be so spoiled here.

Barbara continue as he gave Bruce some files... which documented every single detail of how the glitching worked and your actual family problems.

"How about the rest? We can't just not tell them"

Barbara added another thing on her curiosity list.

"They're well aware, they'll stay her one way or another... And get rid of those ungrateful heros..."

[mcrdvcks]

Could I request a one shot of Old Man Logan? Something with fluff and angst like a huge argument between him and his other half and Laura works to get them to make up after days of not talking

things i wish you said

chapter summary: You and Logan get into a fight and Laura tries to get the two of you to see the errors in your ways.

word count: 2.8k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: thank y'all for sending in requests! i've been working on the last chapter of i love you, in every time but i ran into a bit of writer's block so the requests really helped <3

anyways, i hope this was what you wanted anon!

warnings/tags: au of 'logan (2017)' aka logan doesn't die at the end, arguments, angst, laura being smarter than reader and logan, really this is just laura being a smartass, fluff

"I can’t believe you!” You set the dish towel angrily down on the counter, glaring at Logan. “You are the most stubborn man I have ever met.”

Logan leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed, his expression hard. “Yeah? Well, someone’s gotta be stubborn, considering you’re trying to fix a situation that ain’t broken.”

“It is broken, Logan!” you snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You just refuse to see it because that’s what you do! Shut everything out, pretend like nothing’s wrong until it all blows up in your face.”

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “What’s wrong is you makin’ a mountain out of a molehill. I said I’ll handle it.”

“You handling it usually means disappearing for a week and coming back bloodied and brooding!” You threw your hands up, exasperated. “God forbid you actually let someone help you for once.”

“I don’t need your help!” he barked, his voice rising. “I’ve been doin’ just fine on my own for years.”

“And look where that’s gotten you!” The words came out sharper than you intended, but the frustration boiling in your chest wouldn’t let you stop. “You’re not on your own anymore, Logan. When are you gonna get that through your thick skull?”

Logan’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Then, his voice dropped to a dangerous low. “You don’t think I know that? I didn’t ask for any of this, but here we are. I’m doin’ the best I can, and it ain’t enough for you, is it?”

“That’s not what I said!” You took a step toward him, shaking your head in disbelief. “But you don’t even try to meet me halfway. You just... shut down and push me out the second it gets hard.”

“Maybe I’m tryin’ to protect you,” he shot back, his words laced with frustration.

“From what? From you?” Your voice cracked, the argument chipping away at the walls you’d built to keep your own emotions in check. “I’m not scared of you, Logan. What scares me is losing you because you’re too damn stubborn to let anyone in.”

Logan’s mouth opened as if to retort, but no words came. He stood there, breathing hard, the weight of your words hanging heavy between you. Without another word, he turned and stalked out of the room, the screen door slamming behind him.

You stood there, staring at the door, your heart pounding. Part of you wanted to go after him, to yell more, to make him understand. But another part of you was too tired—too hurt.

The house was quiet now, save for the faint creak of the floorboards as Laura walked in from the hallway. She didn’t say anything right away, just hovered in the doorway, her arms crossed in that way that made her look far older than her twelve years.

“You two are so loud,” she finally said, her tone flat but edged with something that sounded suspiciously like annoyance.

You groaned, dropping your hands and looking over at her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Laura replied, stepping further into the kitchen. She pulled out a chair and sat across from you, her sharp gaze studying your face. “You’re crying.”

You swiped at your cheek quickly, though you weren’t sure why. Laura didn’t miss much. “It’s nothing, kiddo.”

“It didn’t sound like nothing,” she said, her tone even. She leaned her elbows on the table, her small hands clasped together. “You and Logan fight all the time now.”

“That’s not true,” you replied automatically, though the words felt hollow as soon as you said them.

Laura just stared at you, unblinking. “It is.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes grown-ups argue. That’s just how it is.”

“Yeah, but you’re mad at him all the time. And he’s mad at himself. It’s annoying.” Her bluntness cut through you, and she tilted her head. “Are you going to leave?”

“What? No.” The question startled you, and you leaned forward. “No, Laura. I’m not going anywhere. I love Logan. I just... wish he’d stop shutting me out.”

Laura didn’t say anything for a while. She just stared at you, her gaze as sharp as ever, like she was picking apart everything you’d just said.

Finally, she shrugged. “Then tell him.”

You blinked. “I have told him.”

“No, you yelled at him.” Her voice was flat, matter-of-fact, and it made you feel about two inches tall. “That’s not the same.”

You sighed, running a hand over your face. “It’s complicated, kid.”

Laura tilted her head. “No, it’s not. You’re mad. He’s mad. You both stop talking. Then you stay mad.”

You stared at her, caught off guard by how simple she made it sound. “It’s not that easy.”

Laura didn’t respond to that, just gave you a look—one of those looks that made you realize this twelve-year-old could probably win a staring contest with the Grim Reaper. She stood up without another word and walked back toward the hallway, leaving you sitting there with a mix of frustration, guilt, and... something else you couldn’t quite name.

---

The next few days were... quiet. Too quiet. Logan didn’t come around much, and when he did, it was brief—mostly to grab a beer or say a gruff goodnight. You didn’t push him, not yet, but the silence between you was its own kind of argument.

You also knew that he wasn’t sleeping in bed with you. You could tell because you’d wake up early for work, only to find Logan sprawled out on the couch, his legs dangling off the armrest. You would’ve woken him up—told him to go to bed while you left—but you stopped yourself every time. The anger hadn’t completely faded, but it had started to feel hollow, replaced by something heavier.

This morning was no different. You paused in the living room doorway, coffee in hand, watching him. He was fast asleep, one arm thrown over his face, the other hanging off the edge of the couch. You sighed quietly to yourself.

“Just go to bed, idiot,” you muttered under your breath, knowing he wouldn’t hear it.

---

Laura stood in the doorway of the garage, watching Logan fiddle with the same part of the truck he’d been pretending to fix for the past twenty minutes. She didn’t say anything at first—just stood there, arms crossed, her quiet presence heavy enough that Logan eventually sighed.

“You gonna say somethin’ or just stand there starin’?” he muttered without looking up, his voice rough.

Laura shrugged. “You’re not fixing anything.”

Logan’s hands paused for half a second before he went back to the wrench, a little harder this time. “Truck needs work.”

“It doesn’t,” Laura said bluntly. “You’re hiding.”

Logan froze again, jaw tightening. “Ain’t hidin’.”

“You are,” she insisted. Laura took a step closer, eyeing him like he was some kind of experiment she was studying. “You and Y/N are mad. It’s annoying.”

Logan finally looked up at her, scowling. “What’s annoying is you stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong.”

Laura didn’t flinch. She just stared at him, unfazed as ever. “If you don’t talk to her, she’s going to leave.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, and his grip on the wrench tightened. “She’s not gonna leave.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Logan stared at her, expression unreadable, but he didn’t answer. He looked back at the truck instead, as if the bolts and metal could give him something to focus on. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.”

Laura stepped closer, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I know you. And I know her. She cries when you’re not looking.”

Logan stilled, his shoulders tensing, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t want to hear it—didn’t want to think about it.

Laura didn’t stop. “You think shutting her out makes her safer, but it doesn’t. It just makes her sad.”

“Laura,” Logan said sharply, his voice low.

She ignored the warning in his tone. “You don’t want her to leave, but you’re acting like you do.”

That hit something, and Logan finally set the wrench down, exhaling harshly. “You don’t get it.”

“I do.” Laura’s voice was calm, but there was something pointed beneath it. “You’re scared. You don’t want to need her.”

Logan looked at her, his scowl deeper now, though it lacked its usual bite. “Yeah? Where’d you get all that from?”

Laura shrugged. “I watch you. I listen. You’re both loud.”

Logan shook his head and ran a hand over his face, grumbling under his breath. “You’re a real pain, you know that?”

She just tilted her head. “You’re worse.”

Logan let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Great. So now I’m gettin’ life advice from a twelve-year-old.”

Laura shrugged again and turned to leave. “If you don’t talk to her, I will.”

That got his attention. “Hey—”

But she was already walking out of the garage, not bothering to look back. “You’re welcome,” she called flatly.

Logan swore under his breath, watching her disappear. He sat there for a moment, hands resting on his knees, staring at the half-fixed truck. He hated that kid sometimes—hated how she could cut right through him like that.

And worse, she was right.

---

You came back from work late, opting to eat out instead of at home to avoid any awkward interactions. By the time you walked through the door, the house was dark except for the faint glow of the kitchen light. You set your bag down quietly, not wanting to risk waking anyone up.

But as you turned toward the living room, you noticed Logan sitting on the couch, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. He wasn’t looking at you—his gaze was fixed on the floor, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely together.

You hesitated, debating whether to say anything or just go straight to bed. Before you could decide, his gravelly voice cut through the silence.

“You didn’t come home last night.”

You froze, then blinked. “What?”

He finally looked up at you, his expression unreadable. “Laura told me. Said she noticed. I didn’t.”

You frowned, your heart sinking a little. “Logan, I—”

“I should’ve noticed,” he interrupted, his voice low, almost too quiet. He leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s on me.”

You crossed your arms, unsure what to say. “I didn’t stay out because of you.”

“Yeah, you did,” he replied bluntly, cutting you off again. “You’re avoiding me. I get it.”

The way he said it—so matter-of-fact, like he was resigned to it—made something twist in your chest. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not avoiding you. I just needed... space.”

Logan scoffed, his lips curling into a humorless smirk. “Space. Right. Because I’m such a walk in the park to be around.”

“Logan—”

“I get it,” he repeated, louder this time, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You don’t have to explain it. I know what I’m like. Hell, Laura reminds me every day.”

You shook your head, stepping closer. “This isn’t about Laura. It’s not even about you being... difficult. It’s about you not letting me in.”

He stiffened at that, his jaw clenching. “I’m tryin’.”

“Are you?” Your voice softened, but the hurt was still there. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re just waiting for me to give up.”

His eyes flicked to yours, and for a second, you thought he might argue. But then he sighed, slumping back against the couch. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice rough, almost bitter. “I don’t know how to let someone in without... screwin’ it all up.”

You stared at him, the anger you’d been holding onto slipping away, replaced by something softer. “You don’t have to have all the answers, Logan. I don’t expect you to be perfect. I just need you to try.”

“I am trying,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “It just... doesn’t feel like it’s enough.”

“It is,” you said firmly, stepping closer until you were standing in front of him. “But you can’t keep shutting me out every time things get hard. That’s not how this works.”

He looked up at you, his expression guarded but vulnerable in a way you rarely saw. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just studied your face like he was trying to decide whether to believe you.

Finally, he let out a long breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees again. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you said softly, your voice steady. “But you have to let me stay.”

Logan nodded slowly, like he was finally starting to understand. “Alright,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “I’ll... figure it out.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you said, offering a small, tentative smile.

He didn’t smile back, but the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He leaned back against the couch, his eyes meeting yours. “You eaten?”

You blinked at the sudden change in topic. “What?”

“You look tired,” he said gruffly. “Bet you skipped dinner.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I grabbed something on the way home.”

"Good," he muttered again, leaning back against the couch with a long exhale. His hand moved to the bottle of whiskey, but instead of picking it up, his fingers drummed against the glass absently.

You hesitated, then walked over to the couch, standing just in front of him. “Logan.”

He looked up at you, his brow furrowing slightly, waiting for you to say whatever was on your mind.

Instead, you sat down beside him, close enough that your knees touched. For a second, neither of you said anything. Then Logan let out another heavy sigh, reached over, and pulled you into his lap with a quiet grunt.

“Logan—”

“Just sit,” he said, his tone softer than usual, though still carrying that gruff edge. One of his hands rested lightly on your hip, the other settled on your thigh. His forehead dropped against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in him start to ease as he let himself rest against you.

Your hands moved up instinctively, one settling on his arm, the other gently threading through his hair. He didn’t say anything at first, just breathed deeply, the weight of the past few days pressing down on both of you.

“You should come to bed tonight,” you murmured after a while, your voice quiet but steady.

Logan didn’t move, but you felt the way his body tensed under you. “I’m fine out here.”

“You’re not,” you said simply, your fingers brushing through his hair again. “You look miserable on this couch.”

He huffed a quiet laugh against your shoulder. “I’ll survive.”

“That’s not the point,” you pressed. “I want you in bed. With me. Where you belong.”

Logan lifted his head then, his eyes meeting yours. His expression was guarded, but there was something softer there too, like he was considering your words. “You sure you want me there?”

“Of course I’m sure,” you said, your hand moving to cup his jaw. “I always want you there, Logan. Even when I’m mad at you. Especially when I’m mad at you.”

That earned a faint smirk from him, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t think I was much for sharing a bed with someone.”

“Well, you’re not great at it,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “You steal the blankets, and you snore.”

“Don’t snore,” he muttered, his lips twitching slightly.

“You absolutely snore,” you shot back, smiling despite yourself. “But I don’t care. I just want you there.”

Logan studied you for a moment, his hand tightening slightly on your hip. Finally, he gave a small nod. “Alright.”

You smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to his temple. “Good.”

For a few minutes, you stayed like that, the silence between you no longer heavy but comfortable. Logan’s head rested against your chest, and you could feel the tension slowly draining out of him as your fingers moved lazily through his hair.

“Y’know,” he muttered after a while, his voice low, “Laura’s a pain in the ass sometimes.”

You chuckled softly. “She’s just looking out for you. For us.”

Logan grunted, his arm tightening around you slightly. “Kid’s too damn smart for her own good.”

“She gets that from you,” you said, smiling.

That earned another faint smirk, though he didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a quiet sigh, his eyes closing as he rested against you. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

“Good,” you said softly, your hand continuing to stroke his hair.

For the first time in days, the tension between you felt like it was beginning to mend.

[cherrywaves333]

Helloooo! I just wanted to request if you could write boyfriend! C. Fisher HCS. I’m honestly so pumped for Season 3 and your writing has me very entertained:3 THANK YOU! Bye!!!!!!!

Hi!! Thank you so much for the request. I hope you enjoy, this is my first time ever doing headcanons and will definitely revist this later on.

well first off, conrad 100% wakes you up at the ass crack of dawn to go surfing with the rising sun

i think conrad is a MAJOR observer like he's going to watch silently for your habits so he can silently and coolly replace your favorites and just make your life easy

"why won't this bottle of perfume die?" "i bought the refillable bottle, i refill it all the time" and then he just goes to get chips

"fuck, i forgot to buy (item for your hobby)" "oh, i got it, should be in the drawer" "what?"

conrad is not a yapper but he loves to listen to you talk, especially when you're venting and he gets to watch you unravel

"are you listening, connie?" "yeah, you just look pretty right now"

demands phone-free dates; surfing, walking, hiking, eating, and talking

the most supportive of anything you do, he doesn't miss an event, gallery, performance

"i thought your final was today?" "art show." "connie"

he doesn't go to parties that you aren't at and if you're there, it's more like a date

he brings you drinks, opens your beers, holds your cups/bottles at every party

if you're there, conrad's watching you to keep you safe regardless of if you're with him or not

he loves to cuddle and you definitely have sherpys that you hang around in during the winter

cooks dinners with you instead of going out to eat because he thinks its more fun but really it's because he likes to be fully alone with you

watches you get ready to go out every day, comes early in the morning when you're going out without him to see you get ready

listens to music with you at full volume and dances around in your rooms or sing a longs in the car

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ show don’t tell with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: how the boys say i love you without saying i love you. hope you like it <3

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧ - “I’m here for you.”

And he always means it. No matter how busy or stressed he is, if you call Chan comes running. Being your shoulder to cry on is his full-time job, to be honest.

This doesn’t only apply to when you’re going through something though. Chan is there for you when things are hard, of course, but he’s also always present when you accomplish something, doesn’t matter how small it is.

The most supportive boyfriend who never forgets to celebrate you. It’s such a normality in your relationship that you only realize how thoughtful and amazing he is when you look back, and his face comes to mind for every major event that took place in your life in the past year.

Is the epitome of ‘ride or die’ and you can’t change my mind.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧ - by always looking out for you.

No matter what you are doing, Minho’s eyes will always gravitate towards you. To ensure you are safe, that you aren’t struggling with anything or feeling uncomfortable. Or so, he says, but in reality, he really enjoys just observing you in your everyday life, every action of yours adorable in his eyes.

If you are struggling, he’s by your side in a heartbeat. Most of the time, you won’t even realize he’s there until whatever was giving you problems is taken care of.

You can’t open something? Minho’s got it. You’re struggling with work? He’s quietly thinking of a solution and writing it down. You’re stressed? He’s already prepared your favorite snack and is on his way over.

Minho loves quietly yet his actions don’t let you forget about that love even for a second.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧ - by peppering kisses all over your face every opportunity he gets.

To him, you are absolutely adorable and sometimes, he gets this urge to just smother you with all of his love all at once. What’s ‘playing it coy’? Changbin’s never heard of her.

He’s usually one who doesn't shy away from expressing his love verbally, however, there are times when words just aren’t enough.

So, he’ll randomly lean towards you and start small, with a kiss or two on your cheeks before giving in and not stopping until he’s kissed every inch of your face.

He doesn’t play when it comes to you so, he’ll only stop when he shows you exactly how strong the feelings he carries in his heart are.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧ - by keeping a picture of you in his wallet.

I mean, of course, this is Hyunjin we are talking about. And the picture in question is one he took himself on one of your many dates.

Switches it out once every couple of months and sometimes, even keeps two at a time. He can’t help it – you look so beautiful and radiant, that being greeted by your smiling face every time he opens his wallet lifts his spirits instantly.

When he misses you, he’ll absentmindedly open his wallet for no reason just to see your face, even though he’s aware he can call and see your beaming smile whenever he pleases.

Swiftly sneaks a picture of himself in your own wallet so you can match.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧ - by dedicating every song he writes to you.

Being loved by you is the best thing that’s ever happened to him and nobody can convince Jisung otherwise.

That’s why, every time he sits down to work, his head is full of thoughts of you that just never go away. His heart is so full of love, he can’t help but at least attempt to put all of that into words.

Has written dozens of songs about you and the magical way you make him feel and they all sound like something that would play at the gates of heaven, just dreamy. The purest form of love.

Grabs his guitar and serenades you only with the songs he deems worthy of your attention.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧ -  “you look tense, let me give you a massage.”

That’s what he says but, in the end, he pampers you until you have to physically stop him. A hand massage, a face one, Felix becomes your personal masseur.

When you do stop him, he just moves on to hugging and cuddling you, leaving the occasional kiss here and there.

He can’t be too far apart from you, it physically hurts him. Has to touch and feel you near at all times, no matter what you’re doing. Links your pinkies together and just follows you around like a puppy.

Will do your skincare and even wash your hair for you, anything. Just ask.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧ - “this reminded me of you.”

No matter what he’s doing, if he spots something in a store that makes his thoughts rush to you, he’s stopping that activity and going in immediately.

Doesn’t care about the money – the gifts can range from jewellery to random, sometimes ugly souvenirs he finds abroad at a gift shop. His mind works in mysterious ways, you can never know what silly thing would suddenly remind Seungmin of you next.

“You.” And it’s either the ugliest keychain you’ve ever seen or the most beautiful flowers, there’s no in-between.

Gets you a stuffed puppy so you can also be reminded of him at all times, just like he’s constantly thinking of you.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧ - by quietly wiping your tears and holding you when upset.

He’s the type that won’t say anything and just bring you into the warmest, most comforting hug ever. His bear hugs will have you melting in his arms, making you feel super safe.

So gentle and soft-spoken, literally handles you like you’re made of glass when he sees something has truly upset you.

Will wipe your tears and listen to whatever you have to say, giving you his full attention. Also gets you water and helps you remove your makeup, or fix your hair when you feel better.

Won’t let go until he’s convinced you actually feel better and even then, an eye is still on you while he intertwines your fingers and goes on about his business.

[sparrows4bats]

The Bird and the Bastard AU.

What if John Constantine became Damians' weird adopted uncle?

John Constantine was travelling through hell when he found him, a child, a boys very soul being tortured. He didn't look more than twelve, and the kid took the torture with dry eyes and clenched teeth.

It makes John sick. He is so small, baby fat still on his cheeks. This kid is here for all eternity because he thinks he deserves it. There's few other ways for someone so young to end up here. Their guilt shackles them to the torment for all of eternity.

John wants to scream until the child feels his horror.

Until the boy realises this is wrong.

But he just stares back with dead eyes.

So John Constantine does what he has done a few times before and reaches out.

He wretches the soul out of the Demons grip and kills any who try to take it. The boy only blink up at him with green eyes.

Jon gets them away from the demons now in pursuit and pulls the soul into his arms gently, chanting an old spell in hopes that it will allow the boy to leave this awful place.

"Why?" John almost misses it. The question is so quiet it amongst the din.

"What was that mate?"

"Why are you helping me?" The boy has an accent but speaks with no emotion.

"Because a kid doesn't deserve damnation, trust me. I've met some pretty shitty brats, but even they never deserved this."

"I do."

"You are a child. Children don't deserve to suffer, ever."

"I've killed people!" The boy shouts.

John takes a breath and grabs the boys the shoulders.

"What age are you?"

"I died at ten years old." John winces, the soul was practically a baby.

"Most ten year olds don't kill because they like it. They do it because they dont have a choice, especially one that feels guilty about it."

"Who says I feel guilty?" The boys snaps.

John laughs, a hard and bitter thing. "Most people in hell are only here because of their own guilt and shame. That or they make a deal with a demon, and most ten year olds may not be able to do that."

The boy looks away, and John sighs, he clearly doesn't believe it. "How did you die?"

The boy hesitates. "Mother sent someone to kill me. I died protecting my brother and father."

"Shit, that's fucked up Mate, But it proves you don’t deserve to be here. People aren't just good or evil. There are some right old dickheads out there that deserve hell but not a child, never a child who should have been given the chance to change, especially not someone who died to protect their family. As a Dickhead myself I can tell you, you are too good for any of this."

The boy let's a few tears finally fall, but they are quickly wiped away. John doesn't hug him, can't really even if he wanted to.

He finishes the spell and releases the poor soul hoping he'll find some peace.

"You deserve more, I just know it." John says before wandering off.

Damian didn't expect to come back from the dead. Never dreamed his family would fight to bring him back. He was deemed a failure, nothing worth saving.

Knowing Father, Grandfather, his brothers, and sisters all tried to revive him feels surreal. He never would have predicted they would want him.

He still has nightmares, though. Where visions of flames and phantom torture keep him from truly resting.

But at the end of every bad dream, Damian is engulfed in soothing warmth and pulled from the pain. A rough voice with an English accent telling him he's good.

At first, he thought maybe he was hearing Pennyworth, but the accent and language were far different from what the butler uses.

Damian couldn't place the voice, so it made sense that it was just his imagination. The illusion was still comforting, so maybe he could allow himself this one childish flight of fancy.

He dare not mention it to his family. They don't even know he went to Hell.

So Damian goes about his days with memories of comfort he isn't sure are real. Until one day he goes to the Watchtower for a world ending crisis.

With every possible hero called in for the crisis, there are bound to be several personal dramas taking place at all times. Damian arrives to find some heroes who have taken exception to the suicide squad being here.

He watches in contempt at the hypocrites until they start hurling insults that he can't ignore anymore.

"They don't deserve redemption! They're monsters!"

Damian steps up before his brothers can hold him back. "I do not care what your personal beliefs are, but if someone wants to help. Let them help. No one here has the power to decide who is beyond redemption. Far be it for imbeciles such as yourself, to turn down what may save all of us."

And just as the heroes are about to scream at Robin or possibly physically attack him, a portal opens in the middle of the meeting room.

"Well said mate, Bats, you made a half decent kid, there."

Damian starts at the dishevelled man with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

"You!"

The man stops and raises a brow. "Me? Look, I dont know what you've heard, but I can-"

"You're real!" Damian is now having a minor crisis. His imaginary friend is a real-life man who needs a shower.

"Yes? You alright there, mate?" Batman is now staring while the other leaguers look on mystified.

Damian reaches out and hesitantly pokes the trench coat. "You got me out of hell."

John drops his cigarette. "Shite"

Damian hears his family gasp and question when exactly he was in hell, but he ignores it.

Damian tries to clear the lump that rises in his throat. "Thank you for saving me."

Constantine takes a breath as the other gawk at him. "No problem, Mate, but I am wondering how you came back to life."

Damian shrugs, "My family rescued me."

The warlock looks up at the gathered bats and nods like that explains everything.

Damian interrupts before John asks more questions. "I shall repay you one day."

It's John's turn to look surprised. "As much as I appreciate that, I don't accept favours from minors, repayment is a serious thing."

Robin glares. "I am not naive enough to not be held to my word."

John looks at the stubborn set of his shoulders. "No., can't have you involved with the likes of me, kid."

Robin looks like he is holding back a pout and stamping his foot. "I do not like to be in debt."

John sighs, "There is no debt, mate"

Robin does not look convinced, but Batman corrals his son before Constantine has to deal with him any further.

The crisis is averted, and the world is saved, yet it is only the beginning of John's Problems.

Robin pops up everywhere, demanding he be allowed to repay him. The little gremlin child has even convinced the house of mysteries to let him in. John doesn't even know how he did that.

And now the damn house prefers the kid to its owner!

Robin shows up during jobs, in the pub, John even finds him in the kitchen making waffles one day. (They were delicious, but John refused to give him the satisfaction.)

Robin just appears whenever John is in danger with a katanna and protects him like the worlds strangest dog.

After months of this and John literally running out of places to hide. (He suspects Zantanna is helping the little shit.) The hellblazer starts to begrudgingly accept the brats' presence.

He starts giving him talismans and protection sigil because if he insists on following, John is not explaining to Batman how he let his son die again.

Robin, who insists on sharing his real name which happens to be Damian Wayne is a good student, and John takes to throwing spell books at him once he catches him in the library a few too many times. God knows what he could find in there.

The brat becomes an adept magic user worringly fast.

Swamp thing now only talks to Damian and ignores John completely! The damn Green even builds Damian a conservatory in the house of mysteries, and John doesn't even know how they managed that!

John is losing his mind.

Damian even starts replacing his cigarettes! And the house helps him! Every time John goes to light one, it turns into a stick of celery!

When angrily confronted, the boy shrugs and says his vow to repay his debt is only good if John is alive to see it.

Damian then shows him a slideshow on a healthy diet and lifestyle choices. The damn house doesn't even let him portal away!

The bats don't necessarily approve of their new friendship, John learns. He is threatened by the Nightwing of all people. John deescalated the situation when Damian came to his defence. He distracts the gremlin with a talking fish and portals a confused Nightwing away before Robin follows them.

They predictably end up in a pub, and after they get drunk together, John accidentally explains why Damian is so set on repaying him and he somehow has to deal with two bats pledging their loyalty to him now.

(Dick cries and doesn't let go of his baby for hours the next morning, whispering reassurance, love, and praise while Damian glares at a hungover John.)

At least Dick is a good drinking partner even if he joins Damian in breaking into his multidimensional house. They have their own rooms now!

Zantanna admits to helping them when she kidnaps Damian for a quick adventure in Dream right in front of John.

John starts training Damian seriously after a few Demons show up in Gotham. The bat twitches everytime Damian gets referred to as the apprentice by the Justice League Dark but Damian solves all of Gothams magic issues now so he doesn't complain that Constantine basically stole his son.

John tries to explain that it was very much the opposite, but no one will listen to him. But John, despite his best efforts, finds himself growing fond of the boy that has life in his eyes now, so different from when he first met him in hell.

For his birthday, Constantine even gets him a demon slaying sword with Jason Blood. The boy smiles as he unwraps it, and John feels almost glad.

It's hard not to feel close to someone when you have held their literal soul in your hands, no matter how many magic creatures the brat brings to the house of mysteries.

The boy decides to become a doctor and when old Batsy disapproves he moves in with John.

(John found out about his roommate a week after it happened. The house is ridiculously smug.)

Damian comes out to him unnecessarily at 16, and when he asks about John's own romantic history, it's a very awkward conversation.

Dick drags them to pride where all three wear the bi flags and paint on their faces.

He gets Damian his first piercing, his first drink, and introduces him to good grunge music.

So much to the suprise of John more than anyone else, he finds himself quite protective of his little hellion over the years.

And when the tiny super starts flirting with his almost, sort of nephew, John Constantine decides they need to have a chat.

It becomes more apparent when Damian saves his best friends life from a pissed off witch and they make out over it.

John could have lived a long life without seeing his apprentice playing tonsil tennis.

Jonathan Kent is a good lad, and John has no room to judge anybody romantic endeavours, but despite his best efforts, he cares about the boy that came back from hell and decided he could be redeemed.

The shovel talk is severely undercut when he goes to light a cigarette, and it turns into a carrot.

Luckily, the house is much more intimidating. Whenever Jon Kent comes to pick Damian up for a date, it leads him on a worldwide scavenger hunt.

It is funny to watch the bugger panic about being late, only to be thirty minutes early.

The first time Constantine finds Superman's spawn in his kitchen without a shirt he lights him on fire.

Damian's pissed but his boyfriend is fine, mostly.

The house finds it funny and lets him have a cigarette.

[dirty-limits]

"are you sure you want to do this?"

who: bob floyd x reader (top gun: maverick) tw: making out, heavy petting, slight orgasm denial (he just doesn't wanna cum in his pants), dry humping, lower case writing intended, no beta reading we die like men, etc. (do lmk if i need to add any i've missed) wc: 1.1k

you didn't really think this is where you would be at the end of the night after leaving the Hard Deck. in the back of bob floyd's truck seated on his lap with your hands running over his body as your lips danced in an intense tango as his palms ran from the plump of your ass to the sides of your jaw as if you had any thought of pulling away from him.

all that could be heard was the moans and groans from the sweet man under you while you rocked your hips up and down then side to side. anything to continue those sweet sounds that just continued to escape him.

oh, you didn't think the tension between you both that had been simmering since the start of top gun would ever break. bob was too much of a respectable man to even think of crossing that line that was there when you had also danced along it… anything to get him to cross it.

from the long holding grip you would have on his well-toned arms that were now currently wrapped around your waist, to the longing stares you sent him that were obvious to everyone but him.

not that it wasn’t obvious to him, bob floyd wasn’t an oblivious idiot, he just didn't think you would ever think actually being with him, let alone be this moment ever happening in his lifetime. he had come to terms with the fact that you were out of league long ago when he had first met you that first night at the hard deck when you came in with natasha.

knocking hangman down a peg or two from his self-appointed high pedestal in a few matches of pool, to the rowdy singing alongside rooster that lively night. his eyes were on you, and he couldn't tear them away from your shining form. to him, you were the sun, moon, and stars.

months of pining for the other were torture for both you and everyone around you. to the point where they decided enough was enough and let jake do what he does best. talk his mouth off and have it directed at you two (with the occasionally quick quip from natasha to help stir the pot even more). letting the tension and attraction get to an all-time high to the point where it couldn’t be ignored anymore. 

which led to where you two were at now… with bob floyd's hands on you hoping you would never leave.

never in his wildest dreams and his waking moments did he think this time would ever come. sure, he wanted to do it in the proper gentlemanly way. asking you out on a date (maybe some restaurant along the beach), followed by a few dates of courting, that would then eventually lead to both of you heating things up on the couch of either of yalls place.

sure, the whole thing had been blown out of the order he had originally wanted to take from the beginning (he really been planning on asking you to a date today once everyone was already leaving the bar, but heated questions were thrown at both of you and the teasing from jake and natasha weren't really helping calm the fire between you two), but he also wasn't going to complain about having you on his lap kissing him with heated might that every lock of the lips were making his brain slowly throw out any thought that wasn't about you and how you felt up against him. 

with nothing but you in his mind, he quickly picked up on the sudden change in direction your lips were going. the hot searing kisses traveling from his rosey bruised lips to giving little nips at his jaw to the slight suckling feeling he started to feel at his neck. 

he was sure this was heaven on earth with the way he felt complete bliss with, but with every thump of his quick pacing heart he completely forgot the level of control he tried to have over himself as he was on the precipice of cumming straight in his pants. the tantalizing movements your hips were working on him to the sweet nips you were now giving to that sensitive spot below his ear, he just couldn't have that be the first sexual memory you would have together for the first time. so, against his nagging thoughts of wanting to continue, he brought his hands up to your shoulders and gently started to move you back.

this action didn't get past you as you tried pressing forward to lick more at the sheen thin layer of sweat that was starting to develop on his neck.

“bobby, what's wrong? Did I do something?” oh how your caring heart never failed to warm his soul.

“no, nothing bad was happening. i just needed you to hold off a bit before i made a mess of myself in front of you.” his montana drawl was deeply weighted in his words and that lit the fire in you even more, but nothing could have prepared you for the slight that your eyes feasted on as they trailed up his body from the buckle of his belted jeans to the front of his face as started to settle on in the dark space of his backseat.

the quick rise and fall of his broad chest.

the slightly parted bruised rosey lips.

the red tinted flushed cheeks.

and the cherry on top of this delicious ice cream, the government issued glasses that would normally be seated on the ridge of his nose were now skewed and fogged on his pretty face.

never was there a prettier sight than this. while he's trying to calm himself from the tightening strain he had in his pants, you were trying to remember whose place was closest.

the sight itself had you moving your hips again, completely forgetting why you stopped in the first place, but this wasn't lost on him. As he quickly jumped to move his hands to anchor your hips in place, his wide blown out eyes quickly went to your face. 

“are you sure you want to do this? how about we go to my place? yeah? then we can either continue or just talk. whatever you wanna do.” that heavy country drawl of his just kept seeping into his words as he tried to lift you as much as he could to make space between your heated center and his twitching length that was ready to bust at any moment now. 

oh lord you were going to be the death of him and he wouldn't have a problem with it.

“Bobby, if you didn't stop me, I was going to continue and never stop.” oh lord indeed.

a/n: this wasn't meant to be sexual at all!!! i originally wanted to write it with the purpose of putting it out there that making out with someone who wears glasses and seeing their glasses getting skewed on their face is really hot.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

hiiii

I really love your jake and y/n drabbles and hope that you’ll always keep writing about them since they’re so cuteeeeeee

But I was wondering if maybe we could get a Drabble about jungwon and y/n since they’re still besties and I really loved their dynamic!

I know that you focus on the couple but I thought it would be really cool to read about the besties again and I don’t have something specific in mind so I’d give you freedom to write about anything

I really hope you can do it but If you don’t want to it’s also okay and you can just ignore it :))

IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET TO THIS ONE 😭 but yes omg i was actually thinking of doing one abt these two to begin with so you literally read my mind anon <33 hope you like itttttt. i included a little easter egg/throwback to the pretty privilege drabble i wrote too heheh & thank u for ur kind words🥺❤️

──── GROWING UP WITH CHILDHOOD BFF!JUNGWON 🤸‍♂️🍭 ↳ requested // part of the no doubt series !

Jungwon's room is the same as always.

The dim lamp glowing. The soft click-clack of his keyboard. The faint, slightly concerning scent of instant ramen still lingering in the air—despite the fact that you finished eating it two hours ago.

He said he'd throw the cups away.

Eventually.

You're starfished across his bed, head dangling slightly off the edge, aimlessly scrolling through your phone.

Jungwon's at his desk, headset on, fingers moving fast across his keyboard as he mumbles something under his breath—probably trash-talking Heeseung on League. Even though Heeseung is quite literally behind the adjacent wall right now.

"Hey," you say suddenly, voice cutting through the comfortable silence.

"Mhm?" Jungwon doesn't look away from the screen.

"Do you ever think about how we were basically forced to be friends?"

That makes him pause—just enough for his character to die.

He slams the spacebar. Takes his headset off. Swivels around in his chair to face you.

"Bro."

You grin at him upside-down, "Oops."

"Why are you here," he groans, "and not bothering Jake instead of me?"

You gasp dramatically, "Rude. I'm here because I wanted to hang out with my best friend."

"Uh huh," Jungwon's eyes narrow at you, unconvinced. "Jake's busy isn't he?"

"He's at some fancy ambassador photo shoot and they told him no guests allowed," you sigh, grumbling in your spot.

Jungwon snorts, stands up, and kicks your leg aside to make room for himself on the bed. He flops down next to you with a sigh, both of you staring up at the ceiling.

"And to answer your question—probably not," he says. "We would not be friends. You were a bully in kindergarten."

You mouth falls open and you whip your head to look at him. "Hey—what? No I wasn't!"

He side-eyes you, "You literally used to chase me around the playground threatening to hit me with that weird Hello Kitty recorder. Remember that?"

You blink. Then laugh.

"Okay—that's only because you stole my favorite multi-colored pen I bought from the book fair! The one with the sparkle grip and glitter ink!"

"You also tried to feed me dirt. You told me it was a crumbled up cookie you baked."

"Yeah—that one was kinda evil, but to be fai—"

"—you also made me eat a leaf."

"And did you die? No. You're welcome for your advanced immune system."

Jungwon laughs, crossing his arms, "If we weren't forced to be friends and have playdates practically everyday, I probably would've acted like I didn't know you in high school."

Your eyes widen as you gasp again, grabbing the pillow next to you, "Take that back right now."

He laughs, quickly blocking his face, moving to hug the pillow between his arms instead.

"Who else would've let you cheat off their math homework every week?"

"True, you did save me multiple times in the fifth grade," Jungwon shrugs, eyes glinting with nostalgia. "Who else would've made a fake email account with me just so we could prank Miss Lee about canceling the science fair?"

"Who else would've climbed onto the garage roof with me at 2AM to see if we could spot aliens?"

"Who else would've gone shot for shot with me in tequila and get trashed?"

"Jungwon, that was literally last weekend. And I woke up with the worst hangover the next morning because of you."

"My point still stands."

You both pause for a moment.

Then laughter fills the air.

"We're so dumb."

"So dumb."

no doubt m. list

tag list! pt. 1 (open)

@bluxjun @ki2rins @why-did-i-just-do-this @favoritten @lovialymisc @xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaah @hinryh @ltfirecracker @lov4hoon @taeheexx @niyzu @chunkzdeluluwife @jakeflvrz @fangirl125reader @0429jw @dreamy-carat @yuons @thestarinstarbucks @miszes @llearlert @ppeachyttae @hoomin10 @teddybeartaetae @tanisha2060 @therealmrsbahng @beomgyu-bears @ikeulove @jiyeons-closet @youngheejay @wxnderingthoughts @fuevrois @soobundle1009 @isoobie @enhypenova @zoemeltigloos @lizdevorak @deluluscenarios @bloomiize @hasuyv @ijustwannareadstuff20 @veilstqr @dreamiestay @jakeyyyjakexoxo

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Crying bc that could never be me bc I never really had close guy friends when I was young please write a one shot or something of childhood friends y/n and Katsuki of Katsuki being immune to cooties and bringing these tendencies to UA together 😭

eeeee i was secretly hoping someone would ask me to talk about this more tehhehehe here you go ! I didn’t rlly get what you meant with him carrying the cootie thing to high school so i wrote this around your ask a lil, hope you don't mind ! i tried honoring your request as best i can, hope you enjoy !

fem reader, polar opposite’s trope except not POLAR opposite’s cus yn is a little shit on the low, mitsuki favoritism lol, mitsuki and katsuki arguing n bein sassy, katsuki gets embarrassed, mitsuki is mischievous, katsuki calling his mother old, yn calls mitsuki ‘miss’, pure fluff honestly, say it with me CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS TROPE WOHOOOO, mentions of making out n kissing, established relationship, cooties lol, lemme know if i missed sum else <3 !!

katsuki wants to do one of three things right now : dissapear, sink into the floor or die—and the more he hears his old hag babbling on and on to you with a familiar photo album in her lap, the more he's starting to find the all three options tempting.

" oh look, this was at you guys' kindergarten graduation ! you were both soooo small, do you remember that ?! "

he hears his mom gush from the other bigger living room couch she's sitting on with you. it's been 15 minutes since you had come over to his house and the plan was for you guys to hang out, watch a movie and get a make out session in before you leave or preferably have you sleep over.

that was the plan, until his old hag came and fucked it up.

15 minutes since she'd dragged you over to the couch and talked your ear off about whatever the fuck moms talk about and you, being the sweetheart that you are, listened patiently the whole time, chatting and giggling out jokes easily. katsuki really, really doesn't know how you do it but he sure as hell respects you for it.

you'd always insisted on being polite with his mom, something about staying in her good graces after you guys had started dating. katsuki thinks that's extremely stupid because his mom has loved you since that day in elementary school when he'd dragged you over to her, his little hand gripping yours tightly and proudly exclaiming you were the one he was gonna marry. you were sweeter and calmer than he was by far and she was immediatly enamoured with you. katsuki's damn near sure she loves you more than she loves him. that in itself isn't the problem. the problem was that she's been hogging you ever since you walked in the door.

usually, katsuki's fast enough to drag you up to his room before she can get her claws in you, but he wasn't fast enough today and that's how he ended up in his current predicament.

" and this one when you came over for christmas—oh, katsuki begged me to let you stay over, you know ? you cannot believe how loud he can get when he doesn't get his way, started rolling around on the floor n' everything ! "

katsuki feels his ears redden the more he listens to this conversation and he wishes so bad for you guys to just fucking go. he could go to his room and avoid this entire conversation in theory, but he'd rather avoid his mom telling you some other embarrassing stories that you absolutely do not need to know about, so he concedes and tries his best to drown the conversation out, scrolling on his phone.

"ou, i have an adorable picture of katsuki in the bath let me find—"

" DON'T FUCKIN’ SHOW HER THAT, HAG ?! " katsuki shrieks, startling you, his mom looks surprised for no more than a milisecond before shooting him a nasty glare unphased by her son's outburst. "what's got you pipin' up now, brat ?" she asks unimpressed.

katsuki practically zooms over and snatches the album away from his mother's grip, shooting her a glare identical to her own. " i'm gonna burn this in your sleep one of these days, i swear. " he grumbles, trudging off to put the album back on one of the shelves of his living room and ignoring his mom wishing him good luck with that. katsuki feels like he's lost a battle when he hears you giggle quietly when he turns away, no doubt his mother had said something about how he was embarrassed to have you see his baby pictures. he vows to get revenge and thinks the best way to start is by throwing this cursed collection of pictures on an open fire. he decides to just put it back on the shelf for now.

“ what a spoilsport, am i right ?” mitsuki nudges you with her shoulder and you giggle at what katsuki personally finds a horrible joke. to each their own though, or whatever.

katsuki scoffs to himself. he makes his way back to the couch and stands in front of you both, arms crossed.

“you done hoggin’ my girlfriend now or are you gonna keep yappin’ some more ?” mitsuki scoffs at her son’s words, wrapping her arms around your frame and pulling you against her tightly when she sees katsuki’s hand creeping towards you, assuming he'd try to pull you away.

“ i’m sure you can be patient for a little longer, as hard as i know it is for you.” you hear katsuki scoff out an insult under his breath, mitsuki pays it no mind. “besides, yn has been enjoyin’ our conversation so far, haven’t ya sweetie ?” she asks. you, again, being the sweet thing that you are, happily nod with a smile. mitsuki looks up at her son with a smug look, her expression screams “see ?”.

“ she’s only agreein’ cus yer fuckin’ holdin’ her hostage.” katsuki grumbles. he feels his patience dwindling at a pace that should definitely be alarming. he looks at you and feels his heart flutter when you offer him an apologetic smile. his patience returns the slightest bit.

“hostage ? don’t be ridiculous katsuki—” then it’s as if a lightbulb goes off, katsuki can practically see it gleaming above her head and he really doesn’t like it.

“he’s always been like that y’know ? all clingy—you remember that right ?!”the excitement in her voice becomes more prominent when she sees you nod enthusiastically. katsuki has a strange, foreboding feeling about this.

“ i remember he’d constantly want you around holdin’ his hand everywhere. one time—" she pauses as she bursts into giggles that, to katsuki, sound more like witch cackles than anything.

“one time you refused to hold his hand because you got scared he’d get cooties” she chuckles. katsuki feels his stomach drop.

“but he said that wouldn’t happen because he was too strong to get them !”

fuck patience.

katsuki grabs you and stalks off so fast you feel like you’re floating a little bit. he quickly yells out a “we’re goin’ to my room, don’t fuckin’ bother us !” then he’s quickly running up the stairs with you in tow. it’s only when you get to the hallway that leads to his bedroom that he looks back at you. he rolls his eyes when he sees you clearly fighting back a laugh.

“be quiet.”

“i didn’t even say anything yet !” you defend, giggling at the same time. katsuki fights back a smile at the sound.

“yeah, but you were going to and i don’t wanna hear it.” he bites. he squeezes your hand afterwards, telling you it was a joke in his own way. in actuality, katsuki could listen to you talk for hours and hours, days on end without getting bored. you’re being a brat right now though, so he won’t tell you that.

you smile at his back as katsuki drags you along muttering to himself about how he “never should’ve left you with that old witch for so long.”

“i remember that, y’know ? the cootie thing.” you admit jokingly. walking up a little faster you catch up to him and walk side by side. he glances at you from the corner of his eye then looks away and scoffs “of course you do.” he groans.

“ you’re mom didn’t mean to embarrass you, i’m sure.” you try to console him despite still snickering at the memory of his face going beet red after his mom had ‘exposed’ him. “and it was nice to see those pictures. it felt all...nostalgic.” you reminisce about the summer days you’d spent over the years with your katsuki with a smile. remembering the days of adventures and melting ice cream. of waterparks and bandaged covered knees.

katsuki doesn’t make a sound next to you and you think he’s just ignoring you until he speaks again, the scowl on his face threatens to melt away. “that old bat had it out for me the entire time. she’s fuckin’ evil incarnate, just doesn’t show it to you.” he feels prideful when he hears you laugh “that’s mean !” you scold through giggles, but his smirk says he’s seen through you. he comes to a stop and backs you up until your back is against the wall.

“yer laughin’ though. not as much of an angel as you’re pretending to be, are ya ?” he teases, leaning in closer to you until your noses brush. you try to fight back the smile that pulls at your mouth but it doesn’t work and after a moment you’re giggling again. katsuki swears every time you laugh an angel gets its wings. he steals a sloppy kiss to hear the sound again.

your hands play with the hem of his plain black shirt. he’s handsome, too handsome. his outfit consisted of a plain black t-shirt and some sweatpants yet he still looks like a model and it makes you want to kiss him silly, call it revenge for looking so good.

“ i’m not pretending to be anything, definitely not an angel.” you chuckle “unlike you, i’m just being nice.” you stick your tongue at him and he chuckles. rolling his eyes, he scoffs. his warm hands reflexively start running up and down your waist.

“yeah well, that’s cus unlike me your ass gets to go home. you’d be less nice if you were stuck in here like i am.” you playfully roll your eyes at his dramatics

“i doubt that. besides, miss mitsuki likes me !”

“she’ll get mad at you for callin’ her miss again.” you gasp, quickly clasping your hand over your mouth as if his mom would hear you from here. katsuki’s snort makes you snort as well.

“c’mon” he urges after a minute, grabbing at your hand and tugging at it “we’re goin’ to my room.” he mumbles out a “fuckin’ finally” and you laugh.

then you get an idea.

you suddenly rip your hand from his and katsuki immediately stops dead in his tracks to stare back at you like you had just insulted him. you let out a tiny snort at his expression.

“the hell are you doin’ ?”

you clasp your hands behind your back and sigh, even looking down at the floor sadly for extra dramatic effect “we can’t risk it, suki.”

“hah ?” katsuki fully turns to you, slowly starting to grow worried at your sudden shift in attitude. “what’re you talking about ?”

“i mean..if we hold hands..” you slowly look up at him, revealing your shit eating grin “you might get cooties..”

katsuki looks at you for about 15 seconds with an incredulous look on his face and you burst out laughing. he’s definitely one of the most expressive people you’d ever met, so seeing what kind of faces he’ll makes next is always fun.

he walks over, grabs your hand and squeezes hard, as punishment you assume. you yelp through giggles.

you hear him let out a disappointment sigh when he turns his back to you and drags you to his room again. you happily follow along behind him like you’d done for years now.

"i really shouldn't have left you with that old hag for so long." he mutters bitterly. you let out a snort and smile to yourself, content that your plan to mess with your boyfriend ended up being succesful. you perk up when he suddenly huffs out a laugh.

" and anyways, i won't be gettin' any cooties. m'too cool for 'em." you laugh out loud and the way he grips your hand a little tighter tells you you don't need to see his face to know he's proud of that.

"what if i have them ?" you challenge in between snickers.

katsuki scoffs dissaprovingly, you can basically see him rolling his eyes despite his back being to you.

"you don't. only losers get cooties. and as far as i know, you're not a loser." he's a little embarrassed because this is reminding him too much of when you were kids and it makes him cringe. when he'd come up with excuses like him being 'too strong' or 'too cool' to get cooties because he just couldn't admit he simply wanted you close. "yer anythin' but." you hear him mumble.

you walk up next to him with a somewhat shy smile "i'm flattered you think of me that way." you confess.

"don't let it get to your head." katsuki quips. you respond by sticking your tongue at him again. he tries to ignore the loud thumping of his heart but it's not going too smoothly for him. his cheeks slowly redden and he looks away from you again, not before shooting you an eyeroll.

"hope you know you owe me extra cuddle time for wastin' it talkin' to my ma." katsuki adds, changing the subject. you smile up at him in response and offer him a sweet 'mhm !'

his mom may have embarrassed the shit out of him, but he figures it wasn't all bad. he's still deadset on destroying that photo album before she ends up showing you that picture of him in the bath, though. he'll think about a plan later but right now he plans to enjoy his cuddle time with you, cootie free.

[kirain]

Wall of the faithless isn't canon in bg3. They changed alot of things actually. So no Gale isn't "scared" he's just an obsessed asshole who doesn't learn from his mistakes.

Oof...

There's really nothing I can say except: you're wrong. The City of Judgement and the Wall of the Faithless are canon to BG3. If you don't like Gale, that's fine, but you don't have to make things up or completely disregard the lore to do it. Larian Studios literally hired people from Wizards of the Coast—the company responsible for all the canon lore, characters, and campaigns in D&D—to help them with the story. It took them five years, I believe, to fully study and understand the lore. They constantly conferred with the team to double, triple, and quadruple check every slice of content they added to the game, and parts of the game are now considered canon to D&D 5E.

As for Gale "not learning" from his mistakes ... when you first meet him, he literally admits he made a mistake with Mystra. Though personally I don't see it as the "power-hungry" move people seem to think it is. Gale simply wanted to be considered an equal to his partner (really his groomer), which is a perfectly healthy and normal desire for anyone in a relationship. Your partner should treat you like an equal, but Mystra very clearly saw Gale as a pet. A trophy. A worshipper. Subservient. Beneath her. A silly mortal with delusions of grandeur (which she cultivated), which is really rich when you learn she was once mortal herself. Mystra is a hypocrite.

Gale tried to prove himself worthy of equality by trying to bring Mystra what he thought was a piece of her missing Weave. For anyone who doesn't know, the current Mystra was torn to pieces by Cyric and Shar, then put back together by her Chosen. Though back to full power by the events of BG3, she's still technically missing pieces of herself, and Gale mistook the Karsite Weave for one of those pieces. Instead of simply telling Gale it was corrupted Weave, she let him go on believing it was hers. Personally I think that's because she was tired of him (maybe he got too old for her 😒) and was hoping he would do something that, in her mind, would justify abandoning him—but I admit that's full conjecture on my part. What is true is that she knew the orb wasn't hers, but for some reason she let Gale think it was. Even after she abandoned him and left him to die, she never told him. Not until she realised she could use him.

In Act 3, while the argument can certainty be made that he's thirsty for power, Gale ultimately becomes fed up with the gods because, as he knows better than anyone, they treat people like commodities. While I have no intention of ever ascending him myself, it looks like he actually makes good on his word. He doesn't threaten or toy with his followers, he inspires people to walk their own path, he only asks for prayers as payment (as without some form of devotion, gods in D&D cease to be), and if you romance him ... he ascends you into godhood as his equal. Mystra could have done this for him, she just didn't want to. And if you don't want him to ascend, it's genuinely so easy. I don't understand what people are complaining about. It takes one conversation with zero checks to convince him to completely abandon his ambitions. One. If he was truly "power hungry", it wouldn't be that easy.

Again, I would argue that Gale's true goal isn't really power, it's freedom, and divinity gives him that freedom. He has many conversations where he makes it clear he doesn't want to live under the gods' thumbs anymore; which, in a world like Faerûn, is extremely understandable. As I said in my Wall of the Faithless post, he's scared. Eternal torment for a simple mistake, one of which could've been avoided if Mystra told him the truth or treated him like an equal? When your partner is a goddess, how can you not feel inadequate? And if you convince him to give up the crown, he's perfectly content with Mystra's forgiveness. Even in the Early Access, that's all he really wanted.

Gale's far from perfect. He's arrogant and overconfident and insecure and he can be prone to emotional outbursts (most of which he apologises for, however), but he's nowhere near the heartless, power-hungry monster the haters seem to think he is. He is, in fact, one of the most compassionate companions in the entire camp, to the point that he accepts everyone, including Minthara. He votes for Astarion to stay when you find out he's a vampire. He gets mad at you if you surrender him to the Gur. He's one of the only companions who will openly marry/stay with you if you become a mindflayer. He's willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, and willing to damn himself to be with you. He loves every act of kindness, while hating every act of cruelty. I understand that the bugs from launch ruined a lot of people's perception of him ... and unfortunately some of those glitches are still present even now, but he is a good man.

[caught-in-the-infinite]

"You had sex with Bob?!"

John, Ava and Yelena are on the deck of Avengerz Tower. They are outside talking about - well, that didn't matter - they are talking about this now.

"Yeah," says John, reluctantly. "About six weeks ago."

"Six weeks!? Is that why he's been weird...er than usual?"

"No, yes, I don't know. I don't want to talk about this. Look, it happened, and it was not great, and here we are. I don't think he even remembers. He eyes went sort of - " John wiggles his fingers "- when he finished."

"Did you talk to him about it after?"

"Yeah, all he said was it was a 'crazy night' and then ran away from me. I'm pretty sure that means he doesn't want to talk to me about it. Or ever do it again. Which is fine by me."

"So are you gay now?" Ava asks.

"No."

"Bisexual then?"

"No. I'm straight."

"You just said you had sex with Bob."

"Yeah, and I don't think I need to adjust my sexual identity after ten minutes of mediocre love making."

"Love making," Ava snorts.

"Ten minutes," mocks Yelena.

"Mediocre?" says Bob.

"Hey...Bob, how long have you been there?"

"OK," Yelean says, taking charge - again. "You two should talk about this me and Ava will go inside now."

John and Bob both give her "don't leave me out here with him" looks but she ignores them and leaves with Ava.

They stand in silence for a mintue. And then a minute longer. Bob shuffles on his feet. John turns to look over the city.

"I'm sorry," John says. It seems the best place to start. "I shouldn't have. But we did, and it was not great. And now we're here. I miss being your friend, can we just go back to that?"

"It wasn't very good, was it?"

John, checking that the doors to the tower are closed and no one is lingering close enought to hear. "It was bad. It was just bad sex that we shouldn't have had. I didn't know what I was doing, you didn't know what you were doing, neither of us should have been trying to do anything."

"Oh, I know what to do. I just let you take the lead." Johns face does something at this revelation. "You seemed really keen, and I liked it when you kissed me up against the wall. And you seem to like it when I pushed you onto the bed. But then not so much for the rest of it?"

"How many men have you selpt with Bob?"

"Oh," Bob thinks for a moment. "You're probably the third straight guy I've had sex with." Johns face does something else while Bob is still thinking. "Fourth? Maybe?"

John wonders if he jumped of the tower if he would die if he hit the ground below. Instead he says the thing he actually has wanted to say for the past six weeks.

"Do you think we should try again?" John likes Bob, and he hates being bad at things.

Bob smiles, takes a step to press his side against Johns. "Depends," he shurgs, John can feel the movement. "How well can you take instruction?"

It's the fucking sexiest thing John has ever heard - and he'll examine that thought never. He turns to Bob. "Can I kiss you?"

Bob smiles and leans in.

The kiss is very good. John knows he's a very good kisser. He hopes to get very good at everything else.

[hummingbird24220]

Greetings! May I request a luffy x reader with a devil fruit that causes anything they touch die, even fabrics doesn't conceal their death touch. But after wano and luffy getting gear 5, luffy accidentally touched reader, and then finding out their ability now doesn't work on him, which made them tear up and ask for a hug as all they have ever felt was the coldness of a corpse and not the warmth of the living

Oooo i like this^^ Thanks for the request <3

I dont know much about gear 5 luffy (aside from the look) so hope its okay. Its preeeetyy short, so sorry!

The Touch of Life

Luffy x Reader

The sun was high over the Thousand Sunny, casting long, warm shadows as it danced on the waves. The air was filled with the usual sounds of life on the sea — creaking wood, flapping sails, and the distant screech of seagulls circling overhead.

And laughter.

Always laughter when Luffy was around.

But just beyond the edge of that sound, sitting cross-legged near the mast with your hands folded tightly in your lap, was you. Watching. Listening. Smiling when they smiled. But never getting close. Not really.

You didn’t wear gloves — not because you wanted to be reckless, but because nothing helped. Fabric decayed under your fingers just like everything else. Cotton turned to dust, leather cracked and rotted, even metal could rust away in your grip if given time. And people? Skin turned to ash. Bones crumbled. Life shriveled.

You didn’t need the reminders. Gloves only made it feel worse.

The Devil Fruit you had eaten — the Shibotsu Shibu no Mi — was more of a curse than a blessing. Anything you touched with your bare hands decayed. People called it powerful. Useful in battle. Terrifying.

You called it lonely.

So you kept your hands clasped. Always. It was your quiet rule. The crew understood. They’d seen what happened the first time you lost control. Brook had only chuckled good-naturedly after you accidentally grazed his sleeve, saying, “Yohoho! Good thing I have no flesh, or that might’ve hurt!” But the tattered edge of his coat still made you nauseous with guilt for days.

They all understood. They respected your space. But you still saw the glances. Felt the hesitation when a high-five was missed or when your cup was taken with a napkin.

Except for Luffy.

Luffy never looked at you like that. He never feared you.

He just… listened.

Like the time you sat beside him on the deck in the dark, unable to sleep, and whispered about what it felt like — to only know the cold of lifeless things. He didn’t say much, just stared at the moon for a while before saying with a gentle grin, “That sucks. But you’re still you, and I like you.”

And that was that.

Now, after Wano, after everything — Kaido, Yamato, the fire festival — things should have calmed. But something had changed.

Luffy was stronger. Brighter. His presence crackled like lightning now. Gear 5 had transformed him into something otherworldly — laughter incarnate, joy made flesh. But he was still Luffy. Still the same boy who offered his seat to you at dinner and saved the last meat bun when he remembered you liked them.

You hadn’t noticed how close he’d gotten during today’s sparring match with Zoro, bouncing around in Gear 5. The deck was a blur of movement, and the others were cheering, and you were watching him — and then he stumbled.

Right into you.

He crashed forward with his usual lack of grace, arms flailing — and before you could back away or yell or stop it —

his hand caught yours.

Bare skin on bare skin.

Time stopped.

Your heart seized in your chest. You felt the familiar buzz of your Devil Fruit roar to life, ready to devour the thing you touched — and then…

Nothing happened.

No rot. No decay. No crumble of cells or dust or death.

Just… warmth.

Your fingers trembled in his grip. You stared at your joined hands like they were something alien.

Luffy blinked. “Oh, sorry!” he said, pulling back slightly, but not all the way. “Didn’t mean to—uh…” He paused, eyes flicking to your wide, shocked expression. “Wait… you’re not…?”

“I…” Your voice cracked. Your hands opened and then closed again. “I didn’t… kill you.”

Luffy looked down at your hands still touching. “Heh. Guess not.”

You stared at him, chest tight, your vision swimming. The warmth was still there. His skin was warm — not crumbling, not withering — alive.

Your throat tightened, and your hands suddenly clutched his.

“I can feel it,” you whispered. “You’re warm. You’re real. You’re not—” Your voice broke. “You’re not dying.”

Luffy tilted his head. “Well, yeah. I mean, I’m not planning on it today.” He laughed lightly. “That’d suck, right?”

You let out a shaking breath — half a sob, half a laugh. “Luffy…”

His smile faded a bit, and his voice softened. “...You okay?”

You nodded too quickly, but tears still spilled from your eyes. “I’ve never touched someone like this. Never held anyone. I’ve only ever felt the cold of death. And now…” You clenched his hand like a lifeline. “Please. Can I have a hug?”

Luffy blinked once — then twice — and then grinned so widely it hurt.

“Of course you can!”

And without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you.

You gasped — not from fear, not from dread — but from warmth. Pure, unfiltered warmth. It hit you like a wave, like fire, like life. His heartbeat thumped against your chest, his arms solid and kind and alive around you.

You sobbed into his shoulder.

From the upper deck, the rest of the crew had gone silent. No one interrupted. No one said a word. Not even Sanji lit his cigarette.

Because they all understood what this moment meant.

And for the first time in your cursed, decaying life — you weren’t killing someone.

You were holding on.

You didn’t know how long you stayed in his arms.

Maybe minutes. Maybe hours. The ocean breeze brushed across your skin, cool and clean, but all you felt was him — the warmth of his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart, the softness of his voice when he murmured, “It’s okay,” over and over.

It was more than okay.

It was the first time you weren’t afraid of your own hands.

Eventually, your tears slowed, and you pulled back, just enough to see his face. His eyes were bright, full of that same unfailing faith that had pulled him through warlords and emperors and hell itself.

“You’re really not scared of me,” you whispered.

He gave you that sunny grin — all teeth and sunshine. “Nah. I never was.”

“But now,” you said, glancing down at your joined hands again, “I can touch you. I can hold you. I thought… I thought I’d never get to do that in my whole life.”

Luffy tilted his head like he didn’t see the big deal. “You’re my nakama. Why wouldn’t I let you hold me?”

You laughed, watery and raw. “Because I used to kill everything I touched, Luffy.”

He scratched his chin, clearly thinking. “Hmm. Maybe Gear 5 makes me different now. My body’s all rubbery and weird — like, freedom-weird.” He grinned. “Maybe even your Devil Fruit can’t tell me what to do anymore.”

You blinked. “Wait… you think you’re immune because you’re… free?”

He nodded confidently. “Yep. I can do anything now. Even hug my cursed friend.”

You blinked once.

Then again.

And for some reason, that made sense.

Not scientifically, not logically, but Luffy-sense.

And you found yourself laughing — really laughing, full-belly, shoulders-shaking laughter that had you leaning into his chest again. He laughed with you, his arms still around you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

From the upper deck, the rest of the crew finally exhaled.

Zoro sheathed his sword with a quiet grunt. “Took him long enough.”

Sanji wiped his eyes with a sleeve and muttered, “Damn onions.”

Nami just stood there, lips parted slightly. “She… she’s touching him. And he’s okay.”

Robin’s voice was soft, thoughtful. “It makes sense. Gear 5 allows Luffy to embody the impossible. Perhaps her power doesn’t apply to him anymore.”

“Then does that mean…” Usopp leaned forward over the railing, eyes wide. “She can hug people now?!”

“No,” Robin said gently. “She can hug Luffy.”

Franky adjusted his shades, unusually quiet. Even Chopper had tears in his eyes, tail swishing slowly.

Brook sniffled, though no tears came. “Yohoho… she deserves this. She really does.”

Later that night, the Sunny was quiet. The stars above shimmered over the gentle waves, and you stood at the rail, looking down at your hands.

You didn’t hold them tightly anymore. They were open now. Relaxed.

And warm.

“You’re thinking again,” Luffy’s voice said behind you.

You didn’t flinch when he stepped closer. You didn’t back away.

“Am I allowed to?” you teased softly.

“Only if you don’t cry again. I’m not good with sad stuff.”

You smiled and looked over your shoulder. “I was just wondering… if this only works on you, or if it’s the start of something bigger.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Dunno. Want me to get Chopper to poke you with a stick?”

You laughed again — gods, you were laughing so much now — and shook your head. “No. I don’t want to test this on anyone else. Not yet.”

“Then don’t.”

You blinked.

He stood beside you now, leaning on the railing. “You’ve got time. You’re here, and we’re not going anywhere. So you don’t have to rush.”

You stared at him.

That grin of his could power a whole island.

“Besides,” he added, turning to face you. “You’ve got me. And you can touch me anytime you want.”

Your heart stuttered.

“Luffy…”

His hand found yours again, and he laced your fingers together.

Warm. Alive. Safe.

“You’re not a curse,” he said. “You’re not poison. You’re you. And I’m really glad you’re with us.”

The wind carried your answer away, but it didn’t matter.

Because this time, for once, you weren’t thinking about how much you’d ruin. You were thinking about what you could finally hold onto.

[incrtz]

How many times will it take..?

Part One

Pairing ⋆ sick! gojo x past lover! reader

Summary ⋆ You and Gojo have a past, but you still dislike him. ‘Unfortunately’, The Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer managed to get sick & Yaga asks you to look after him. Will you & Gojo finally make it official?

Warnings ⋆ Smut, 18+ topics (MDNI), NSFW, flirty! gojo, grumpy! reader, rough, hate sex, condescending! gojo, cannon jjk world, younger gojo & geto.

Word Count ��� 2,492

I groan as I'm called into Yaga's office, taking a seat in front of his desk whilst I wait for him to 'bless' me with his presence. God I hate this old man, he thinks he's above everyone else. Such an ass. "Ah, (Y/N). I need a favour." Yaga says as he enters, his cold eyes narrowing down at me. "Hm?" I hummed, putting my hands on the back of my neck.

"I need you to watch over Satoru today. He's ill, and I don't need any unwanted visits." He slowly sat in his chair, his eyes dark, intently looking at me. I groaned, "Seriously old man? I have to babysit a grown man. Well, he is practically a man-child. He’s so insufferable." I spoke, my voice laced with annoyance. "Yes. Respect your elders (L/N)." He copied my annoyed tone. "Fine. Don't be surprised if he suddenly stops breathing." I stood up, "When do I have to go?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Now. Preferably until he's no longer ill." He states the obvious, I was just hoping I'd get some alone time first. I walk out the door and start taking slow but purposeful steps towards Satoru’s room. Satoru and I aren't... The best of acquaintances. Although it is mostly one sided, all he does is flirt with me and tease me. We've always been like that though, I've known him since birth.

You see, my eyes have a similar look to Satoru’s. It's quite infuriating since we're always matching, you know with the blindfold. The only difference in our eyes is that mine are green. I do really admire his looks though, he's extremely attractive don't get me wrong but... His personality pisses me off so much. He's the adult embodiment of a newborn child. He always acts immature, cracking silly jokes always at the wrong times, bragging about his abilities, his over-confidence. I hate it, but it's so attractive at the same time.

I have, basically the opposite abilities to him. I can warp reality, making physical laws meaningless, bypassing his infinity by rewriting the rules that govern his space. I also have a domain expansion that cancels out his abilities, well. I can totally control my domain expansion, as one of my abilities. I can decide what works and what doesn't, so simply putting Satoru in my domain expansion would render him useless. Although I have a few weaknesses.

…

Once I arrive at his door, I don't bother knocking and I just let myself in. I’m… familiar with his apartment, so I kick my shoes off at the door and head to his bedroom door, also letting myself in without a knock.

"Oh? (Y/N)? Missing me sweetheart?" He plasters a grin across his face as I shut the door behind me. I ignore his annoyingly attractive voice and look for a place to sit, his room is a mess. I take a seat on the edge of his desk chair and kick my shoes off. "Awww, are you here to take care of me." He pouts teasingly, I tilt my head backwards at him, folding my arms. "Yes. Orders from Yaga." I kick my legs up on his cluttered desk, turning my head back to the mirror sat ontop of the wooden surface. "Yaga." He tuts, "He's such a tease." He grins at me in the reflection of the mirror, his half naked body peaking through the covers.

I keep my eyes distracted, scanning the mess-ridden desk. I hate that I find him attractive, the thought of ever being with him genuinely drives me to jump off a bridge. "Come here gorgeous, you know I never have my Infinity on around you." He provokes me, pulling the covers over to create a space next to him. "No. You're ill. And frankly, I'd rather die." I lie through my teeth.

"Mm, that's not what you wanted last week." He teases, reminding me of last weeks events. We had a party, we got drunk and slept together. That was all. "We're adults. It was a one night stand." I retort, my mind preoccupied by the trash littered across his desk.

Satoru rolls his eyes, slipping further under the covers as he sinks deeper into his matress, "Don't wake me up." He grumpily tells me. "Wasn't planning on it." I mumble, reaching into my pocket to pull my phone out, kicking my legs off the desk and crossing them over each other.

…

He conked out for hours, snoring my ears to sleep until a rude banging filled my now awake ears. I turn my head to Satoru’s bed, he’s still snoozing. I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh before standing up from his desk chair, striding over to the door. My eyes meet his dark-brown orbs, “Oh thank god. I thought you were Yaga.” I sigh in relief, leaving the door open to let him follow me in. As I turn around suddenly, Satoru perks up. As if he’d been faking sleeping.

“There’s the patient.” Suguru chuckles a little, shutting the door behind him as he clambers over the messy floor to sit on the corner of Satoru’s bed. I look at him, “Can I go out for a bit? Is it ok to leave you to look after him… I can’t stand the sight of this room anymore.” I tap my foot on the floor as I wait for Suguru’s response. “Sure. I have somewhere to go in around an hour though, so don’t be too long.” He nods, reassuring me. “Aww, I’ll miss you.” Satoru winks at me. I scoff and shrug off his flirtatious behaviour, turning on my heels to the door instead.

…

I sluggishly lift my aching neck up, rubbing it as I look around the unfamiliar room. Oh yeah, I’m looking after Satoru. I turn my head back to his bed, he looks like he’s asleep. So I stand up and grab my airpods from my pocket, sticking one in my left ear to play my music. I look disappointedly at the floor, deciding to tidy his room up a little. I toss a few empty packets into a trash bag, rearranging some pieces of furniture and putting the clothes that were previously littered among the trash in the laundry. As I stood up, I felt a hard wall collide with my back, I knit my eyebrows together before feeling two hands slither around my waist. “Cleaning up? You’re not a butler.” He tells me as he lazily presses his chin against the top of my scalp. I press my head back, his chin falling to my forehead before he turns down at me, “Tired, love?” He coos, his breath brushing against my skin as his fingers squeeze my hips.

I sigh, lifting my head and readjusting the airpod in my ear. “Can I listen?” He tilts his head at me. I hesitate, “Fine.” I hum, as he slides his hands off my waist. He acts like we’re a goddamn couple sometimes. I fish in my pocket for my airpods, handing him the right-ear one. He smirks in approval and leaves the bedroom, dismissing himself to the bathroom temporarily. I’m assuming he brushed his teeth or something. Once he re-enters the room, he sluggishly climbs back into his bed and looks over at his desk, his eyes scanning my body. “Will you get in the bed with me now?” I think he’s asking, but it sounds more like a command. And to be honest, I’m way too sleepy to argue with him.

I sigh and look at him, kicking my legs off the desk chair. I crawl up his bed and into the sheets. "Ok. Now shut up." I said and leaned against the headboard, just like he was. I feel too vulnerable around him, I fucking hate it. He makes me feel weak. "Oh there's those pretty eyes." He grinned, ignoring my comment on his room, leaning his hand up, slipping my jaw inbetween his thumb and pointer finger.

This is the exact reason why Yaga needs to stop pairing us to do things together.

He grabs my waist, gripping it tightly as his mouth dominates mine. I have a feeling he was just lying about being sick, just as a ruse to get me in his bed. "I've been thinking about you all week." He groaned into the kiss, his hand slipping to my thigh and pulling it over him. I feel his erection on my leg, that's when my mind goes completely blurred, fuck his cock is so big, almost too big.

I give in to all of my instincts and climb on top of him, straddling his hips as he kissed me. He drops his other hand to my waist, firmly pressing me down to make sure I feel his hard-on. He smirks on my lips, bucking his hips into mine slightly. I whimper quietly, his tongue exploring every corner of my mouth.

His hand slides up to my back as he flips us over, pinning me to the bed. "Do you want me, baby girl?" He pulls away from our kiss, a string of saliva lingers between our mouths as he presses his forehead against mine. "Mm, you know I do, Satoru~" I seductively whisper his name, that seems to fuel him.

He reconnects our lips as his fingers fiddle with my shirt, yanking it off me in one swift motion. Then, his fingers press on the waistband of my pants. "I want you to beg for me, (Y/N)." He pulls his mouth off mine. "Behave yourself. Just fuck me already, Satoru." I bite my lip up at him, leaning my face to catch his bottom lip between my teeth. His lips curl into a smirk between my teeth, his hand sliding up from my waist to my neck, wrapping his long fingers around it.

Frankly, I have no idea what I'm doing or saying right now. This goes against everything I agreed to myself. And, we both still have our airpods in. Coincidentally, Monster, by Lady Gaga is playing. I smirk up at him as my eyes travel down his mostly-naked body. His white, Calvin Kleins hanging loosely on his hips as his outline becomes clearly visible.

"Mm, Satoru~ please… Please fuck me." I hum, his eyes darken as he looks down at me. He moves back and pulls my pants off, his fingers reaching for my panties. He slips his fingers in my underwear, gliding them over my core, "Mm, you're all wet for me baby." He hums, pressing his fingers inbetween my slick folds, slipping the tip of his middle finger into my hole. I whimper quietly, watching him as he pleasures me gently. He pulls his fingers out and grabs the elastic of my panties, pulling them off.

He smirks and looks down at my naked body, "Ah. Look at you, all pretty & ready for me." He teases, moving back over me. His bare chest presses on mine as he connects our lips again, I smirk and lift my legs, wrapping them around his waist and pulling him into me, his cock pressing on my pussy. "Ah~, fuck (Y/N)." He moans into my lips, his hand reaching down to his boxers. He pulls them down, grabbing his lengthy dick. He rubs his tip against my wetness, groaning into my mouth as he does. "You gonna take my cock like a good girl?" He pulls away from the kiss, looking down at me. I bite my lip and nod, spreading my legs further to give him better access.

He licks his lips, "Mm, I wanna watch your pretty little face as I fuck you." He tells me before pushing his full length into my hole. My eyes flutter, digging my nails into his back as he starts thrusting into me, at a rough pace. The sound of the headboard slamming on the wall, my moans and our skin smacking against each other fills the room, my back arching with each thrust. "Mm fuck, it's like your pussy was made for me." He grunts as he keeps his pace, roughly slamming into me.

After a few more thrusts I feel his dick throb inside of me, leaking out precum as I clench my walls on his length, my whimpers getting louder. He groans in pleasure, before he slides his hand up to my face, slipping his fingers into my mouth. "Not too loud, gorgeous." I roughly suck on his fingers they slip down my throat, his lewd groans burn in my ears as he reaches his climax. His abs tense as he comes to his orgasm, he slips his dick out of me and jerks it slowly, his seed releasing on my lower stomach in thick rope as I finish with him, his name rolling off my tongue in a whimper.

After a few more heavy breaths he stands up, pulling his boxers back up before disappearing into the bathroom. In an attempt to regain my composure, I begin to steady my breathing, closing my legs. He returns a couple seconds later, with some wet tissue, "Wanna know a secret?" He asks me as he presses the tissue on my stomach.

"Mm?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not sick.”

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[pinkaditty]

HI i love your works sm ,,, and i really love the way you write it just brings out soemtnhign in me ,,, but hear me out on leo kurosagi angst where leo keeps insulting pc and pc just took it well until he said something sensitive (maybe sth ab the way she eats? or sth abt her face etc etc) and hurt pc's feelings and he didnt feel bad when pc cried , but when he saw pc going over to sho and sho giving him dirty looks he feels remorseful but he didnt want his pride to crack so he blamed pc , and then when pc started avouding him he started mocking her but in the inside it hurt him and his pride slightly , afterwards he found out he actually has genuine feelings for pc but denies it , until he found out pc is now his bff's gf WOW i NEED him humbled 🤗🤗🤗

Pavlov's Ghoul (Leo Kurosagi x Reader x Sho Haizono; Tokyo Debunker)

hey anon this existing is UR FAULT. (ilysm ty 4 the idea) and i hope u don't mind that I added my own little twist 2 it... hehe! even if u didn't expect me 2 write anything u can't drop a fresh, juicy steak of an idea like this and expect me not 2 salivate and tear it 2 shreds via writing it out.

OMG also TYYYYYYY IM SOSO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING YIPPEE!!!!!!!!! i hope this is up 2 ur standards anon

a/n: why does this exist? blame anon and my inner need 4 a bitchy boy 2 be humbled amen! also i feel like i've completed my tokyo debunker rite of passage... ive finally written leo angst... nirvana at last.

summary: leo gets fuckin pavloved LMAO! considered calling this "ecstasy" or something bc of the pill line but ohh my god "pavlov's ghoul" hit too hard i fear.

cw: this isn't dark imo but be warned as this is just a little bit crazy, the most insane kind of yearning ive ever written maybe. implied sexual encounters, multiple sexual innuendos, and some odd behavior. MINORS DNI AS PER USUALLLLLL!

Looking for Part 2? Click here!

Sho's kind, reasonably so. Leo knows this. Sho also has an infinite store of deeply repressed anger. Leo also knows this. It's the reason he's in Vagastrom, after all. A deep, roiling anger that seems to eat at him if he doesn't have an appropriate outlet to balance his mood. That's why he's such a good cook, why he's so good at fighting, why he's got an excellent sense of balance and rides his bike smoother than anyone else he knew. He's using these things as outlets for his anger. It's not Leo's fault that the occasional outing to trick and deceive another sexually repressed rich old man for money is something else Sho seems to derive stress relief from. And it's not Leo's fault that Sho continues to stick around with him after those jobs are done. It's never been a problem for either of them, as far as he can tell. At least, there were no problems until Little Miss Inspector showed up.

Suddenly, Sho didn't want to lie anymore. Suddenly, Sho wanted to go as far as to address you with the proper honorifics, ask for your help with setting up his food truck, and even generally spend time with you outside of that. And for what? Some trembling, scared, pathetic girl that knew nothing of the world of anomalies prior to her curse? Some girl doomed to "die" in less than one year, no less? He couldn't understand the kindness Sho showed you. It made no sense, nor any difference. You'd be dead soon, so what did it matter?

It's got to the point where he's begun to randomly put you down with petty insults and biting remarks. They usually consist of things like "Oh my god, even preschoolers know Anomalous Biological Basics! Come on Inspector, is your head screwed on right? Not even the Captain is this stupid." or "You remember your ability is useless when we need it, right? You'd be nothing more than a burden on missions if you can't even control this power. " or even "God, you're such a basic loser. Can't you find something else to do with your free time instead hang around Sho like a lovesick puppy? You're starting to look like that dog that's always around Kagami." and worse insults. He gets the occasional sidelong disapproving glance from Alan or even a slight furrowed brow from Sho, but it didn't matter to Leo. So long as he could slowly plant seeds of doubt in his fellow ghouls and put you down to satisfy his ego, even an odd look was negligible.

He couldn't even stand looking at you. The uniform they'd chosen for you was awful, didn't even highlight your curves. He hated the way you styled your hair, and always thought he could totally do it better. The way you seemed so relaxed around other ghouls pissed him off, why couldn't he be good company? He found you repulsive, unable to resist glaring at you from the corner of his eye whenever he could. He had to get rid of you somehow. He would never admit to feeling threatened by you; instead choosing to focus all that energy into believing you were simply throwing a wrench into his plans to live an easy, get-away-with-anything university life.

It's all come to a head today. Leo thinks he's had enough of seeing you at the food truck after hours, chatting it up with Sho. It's like he can't even catch this guy alone anymore. Before he knows it, he's made a beeline for the truck. His brand new shoes scuff on the brick path in his rush, and eventually begin to stain green on the grass, his brisk stride tearing through the verdant lawn. He tries not to let his anger show on his face, but it's evident in his posture and pace. He forcefully sidles himself into the conversation, leaning on the service counter next to you, not even waiting for you to finish speaking before he pipes up. "Wow, here again, huh? And here I thought a basic bitch like you would know her place! That mouth of yours must be good for something if he keeps a chatterbox like you around."

The chill settles into the air almost immediately despite his candid tone and relaxed, smug smile. He's so focused on your reaction that he hardly notices the look Sho gives him, twisted with displeasure and confusion. He watches as you visibly falter, your lopsided smile fading into a barely-there frown. He stares, unrepentant, laughing internally. This was the reaction he wanted.

He turns towards Sho and raises an eyebrow at his look. "What? She can take it." Sho's expression visibly wavers, and Leo fully expects him to back down, as he usually does. But instead, Sho turns to you and his face grows pale. Leo rolls his eyes, assuming Sho is totally overreacting, and turns to you. He stiffens at your visible tears. Okay, totally not what he expected, but come on. This was the insult that made you cry?

Leo notices Sho is at your side in record speed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, and gently drawing your hunched form away, giving Leo a harsh look. Leo simply scoffs. As far as he was concerned, your reaction was pathetic. It wasn't going to stop him from having any fun.

This. Under no circumstances should this hurt. At all.

Leo had noticed you'd been avoiding him. You would slink away if he so much as entered the same room as you. You wouldn't look him in the eyes if he approached, keeping your expression impassive. Sometimes you'd just outright ignore him. It was beginning to become a bit of a nuisance. He couldn't properly mock you if you weren't there to witness it happening, or didn't give him the reaction he wanted. It was odd. When he faced these feelings head-on, it almost felt like he wanted your attention somehow, even if he didn't quite want it to feel like that. A nagging feeling told him that maybe he went too far with his latest insult. He didn't want to admit that, but something told him he did. It was in the way both you and Sho acted around him.

Sho was missing a lot of Leo's calls lately, sometimes not even bothering to call back. Leo partially understood, what with the food truck business booming and all, but he didn't appreciate being made to wait for his own best friend who's usually at his beck and call. Not to mention the flat, terse responses he would get from Sho more often than not nowadays. Leo knew Sho was miffed with him from last week's incident, but as far as Leo was concerned, things still ended in his favor. He hadn't seen you around Sho much anymore, which means he could go back to how things were. No more pesky little honor student to reign upon his days any longer! Sure, there was the biting underlying feeling that maybe he'd screwed things up, but one ride on the back of Sho's motorcycle, going wherever Leo wanted as per usual, and he was living the dream again. No way everything would change over a silly, insignificant insult.

For a short while, he begins to get bolder, openly mocking you when he does come across you. His originally surface-level remarks become rather personal, even using your eventual death as a way to tease you. From "You know, I'm surprised you haven't done anything to change up that unflattering look, considering you're dying soon. Ever considered dressing up a little? You might get some attention before you die." to "Hey, Little Miss Inspector! With the number of men you talk to around campus, I'm surprised nobody's written you off as a whore yet!", and worse, of course. He continues to get no such reaction out of you, and it frustrates him to no end. Why couldn't you just frown? Shrink away? Or even retort something just as scathing back to him? Your lack of entertainment towards his endless ridicule reduced his motivation, and slowly, it ended up dying off. Soon, he left you alone altogether, not talking to you unless necessary, mimicking your actions. In a way, some part of him hopes maybe this will be what gets your attention. Even if he can't quite admit to himself that your attention, regardless of whether it's positive or negative, is what he wants.

It's late, but Vagastrom students don't go to bed until far later. And Leo needs a favor.

His crushing lack of success in garnering any sort of attention or reaction or rise from you had driven him to a point. He didn't want to apologize to you or anything, but this new habit of you ignoring him was beginning to stoke his displeasure. In his pondering, he remembered how easily Sho captured your gaze and wondered if maybe he'd have any idea of what Leo could do to at least put an end to this stalemate.

Leo's reluctance shows in the way he drags his feet on the path to Sho's room, less than eager to confront him for his opinion on something so shamelessly trivial. Why was he wasting his time with this anyway? Surprisingly, the lack of a solid answer to that question did not stop his trek. A twinge in his chest told him he knew exactly why he was "wasting his time".

In the month it had been since he'd made you cry, the nagging feeling had only gotten harsher. His mind kept flickering back to the shock of your tears and how he'd not bothered to consider it much further. An uncomfortable guilt had made itself known starting then. He never really expected you to cry; he just wanted a mild reaction. He wanted your eyes on him, flashing with anger, just for a moment. Your ire was a saccharine pill laced with ecstasy that he'd gladly crush with his teeth to speed up his high. Maybe it'd be too much to say he got off on it, but he enjoyed the way you used to roll your eyes at any comments from him a little more than he cared to admit. Now, he wouldn't even get that. It'd be rare for you to so much as make fleeting eye contact with him, not that something as small as that would be enough for Leo. Part of him was willing to accept that maybe, he'd gone too far. Maybe. But how else was he supposed to monopolize your attention when you give that out so freely? To his best friend, even?

He didn't know it was possible to covet something so terribly. He found himself wondering why he couldn't catch your attention in the same way as the other ghouls? In his quest for the same attention you gave so freely to the kinder, softer ghouls, he found another version of your attention. It was negative, but it was attention nonetheless. Your sweet, honeyed rage seemed to fill his cravings and then some, so he continued to devour it under the guise of "chasing you away" or "putting you down" or "satisfying his ego". In truth, for whatever reason, there was a rather bothersome and persistent envious longing, a covet, for your attention. Leo wants to vomit. A part of him denies it still, pushing his needless feelings to the back of his brain. He had something to do, and he ought to focus on that. What good would mere wallowing do?

He makes it to Sho's room and almost considers turning back. He stares at the door, his expression morphing into a complicated look. He shifted his feet, his slippers sliding against the floor. It was quite clear he really did not want to do this. At all. He sighs and grumbles indignantly, putting his head in his hands in an attempt to gather some courage. This couldn't be that hard, right? Just in, ask Sho a question, get an answer, then out. The only reason this was easier said than done was just because it could potentially show Leo was capable of feeling remorse, which would make this conversation leagues harder than it needed to be. He shakes his head and straightens up, preparing to knock, when he notices something.

Sho's room was... unusually quiet. Usually, Leo almost always heard some loud music or a cooking show running in the background, but he couldn't hear anything this time. Sho couldn't possibly be asleep. As late as it was, the only person who Leo knew for a fact could stay up past him was Sho, regardless of how much sleep he had gotten. There was no chance Sho was asleep. Believe it or not, Leo doesn't like to spy on Sho. But curiosity overwhelms him. What could he possibly be doing that would render the whole room in silence?

"Haxs," he whispers, listening closely.

The first thing he hears is the cling-clanging of Alan hard at work on a car in the garage. Not the sound he was meant to be focusing on. Then he hears endless jeering and loud insults shouted, though they're all muffled like they're underground. Another pit fight? Still, not the sound he's looking for. He sifts through the sounds he hears before he settles on the one coming directly from Sho's room.

Voices. Groaning, strained voices. The sound of wet skin against wet skin. Panting. Sho's panting, specifically. He could tell by the slight nasally tone of it.

Leo felt his face gradually warm. Christ, of course it'd be this he'd be up to. Leo muffles a laugh into the collar of his pajamas, keeping his hand clamped over his mouth as his body shook with mirth. When he finally calms down, he slinks off to the corner down the hall, and hides himself there, shamelessly still listening to it. Sho's a sly dog. Leo certainly didn't expect him to be getting up to anything this soon. He leans his body against the wall, crossing his arms and drumming his fingers on his arm, waiting for Sho to finish. He smirks to himself, as though enjoying the vocal show.

...

He had to admit, whoever he was with had gorgeous moans. He'd have to ask Sho if he'd be willing to pass this girl's number. He could use a couple things to get his mind off of you.

...

Okay, he had to stop listening to this now. He lifts his stigma and holds his hands over his ears for good measure, partially trying to hide the furious red blush across his face. As pretty as that girl's moans were, he was not going to listen to his best friend's climax. No thanks. He huffs out an impatient breath as his cheeks cool down, leaning his back against the wall, leaning his head back until it hit the wall with a dull thump. Now he just had to wait it out. He knew damn well Sho would never let a girl stay over. He'd never hear the end of it from yours truly, Leo.

Leo's right. It isn't long before he hears the door to Sho's room click, and hears murmured voices travel down the hall. He smirks, rushing down the hall in the opposite way, so it doesn't look like he was listening the whole time. He listens, waiting for a cue of some sort.

"Shame you have to go, you know." Sho's voice. Laced with relief, pleasure, and a thick tiredness. Leo's skin crawled. He could practically feel the smile in Sho's voice.

"It's not so bad." The girl responded with a light and playful tone, her voice seemingly much more put together than Sho's despite all that moaning. The voice sounded oddly familiar, but Leo brushed it off. Must be someone he shares classes with. "I've got things to do anyway. But it was nice to spend some time with you, Sho." Eagh. Leo internally hopes this girl isn't the type to get easily attached.

"...Yeah. Same to you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Finally, he heard the girl's footsteps trailing down the hall, heading in his direction. Leo hurriedly pulls his phone out of his pocket, making sure the screen was bright as he flipped through the latest trends. He made a point of not looking up until he heard the footsteps nearing him.

He looks up, prepared for a simple glance, but ends up being rooted to the spot.

It was you. Of course, it was you. Who else would be taunting enough?

Despite himself, his gaze remains glued to you, his head turning as you walk past him. For a moment, Leo thinks you're just going to ignore him again. Then, suddenly, your gaze meets his in a flash, and he stiffens, almost out of fear. The way your eyebrows crease and the way your lips twitch downward almost makes him salivate. You were clearly displeased to see him. Even so, he notices you don't slow down, continuing your way down the hall, not bothering to crane your neck to look at him.

Leo remains rooted to the spot, watching your figure as you leave. His jaw hangs open slightly, his chest heaving with shocked breaths. His eyes are wide open, pools of gold reflecting your retreating form. His hand trembles as he holds his phone, the latest trends left neglected in the wake of a single mean-spirited glance from you. He feels his heart pound mercilessly in his chest, as though confirming what he'd tried so desperately to deny.

All at once, anger and arousal seem to grip him simultaneously. Anger at himself for feeling arousal from a mere negative glance from you. He couldn't possibly have craved your attention so viscerally he'd happily accept mere scraps. And yet here he was, a lap dog, watching you as you leave as though silently begging for another glance, another chance to watch your eyes burn with that familiar, delicious anger, another meal to satisfy his starved heart.

For a moment, he would have gladly followed you, and pestered you to death, just to irk you and become a willing victim of your wrath. Anything... just for that attention.

a/n: wow. no stop why am i kind of in shock at the poetic lines i kinda think i did a great job! but 4 whatever reason it's always the writing i think was total shit that does actual numbers *sob*

aghhhh in any case. no i don't have an excuse 4 this. my requests are still technically closed. i just... couldn't help myself... so consider this a freebie. regardless though if u like my writing feel free 2 fill the fuck out of my inbox idnc i love hearing from y'all.

also TUMBLR KEEPS TURNING OFF MY REBLOGS!!!! GRAH!!!!!! tumblr hates me y'all they keep catching on2 me 4 writing porn :( so please if u really wanna show appreciation and tumblr won't let u reblog, leave a comment! those make me happy :)

anyways. usual note that i adore likes, comments, and tagged reblogs!! please tell me how much you like my writing, i love to hear it and it keeps me going! until next timeeeeeeee!

EDIT: I FORGOTTT QUICK EXPLAINATION: im assuming everyone knows pavlov's dog and the whole classical conditioning theory. this story is basically that mixed with the mere-exposure effect.

neutral stimulus: mc's presence

natural response: leo's arousal/excitement

response-producing stimulus: mc's anger

mere-exposure effect: psychological effect in which a like or dislike of things is developed merely due 2 familiarity.