#and needed something from cas that cas couldn’t give him

[fallenangelblade]

can I just say???? crazy to get “nobody cares that you’re broken, cas” and “i’d rather have you, cursed or not” in the same fucking episode

[2tarbell]

MEAN SOMETHING — KOOK!READER

only one person knew how to handle your drunk best friend…

(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

you were going to end rafe cameron.

on the one night, the one night, you wanted some alone time and to be away from the boys, he decided to get sloppy drunk. of course, your other best friends have no idea how to take care of a drunk person and you honestly wondered how they even took care of themselves. which left you to slide on some slippers and drive over.

now as you stood before the front door in your victoria’s secret yoga pants and pink sweater, waiting for topper to answer it, you wonder why you let yourself get pulled into shit like this.

it’s rafe, that’s why. that’s always the reason why.

the door swings open to reveal a frazzled topper and kelce, you would’ve laughed at them if you weren’t so pissed. they took in your attire, the prissiness still evident even your pajamas. but you looked slightly disheveled, something they didn’t see often. both boys snorted at the sight of your bunny slippers but you quickly cut them off.

“say anything and i’ll chop your dicks off. where is he?” you seethed.

your tone brooked no argument and they both stepped aside to let you sashay in. kelce had his keys in hand as he mumbled something about rafe being ‘in his room’ and ‘on the floor’.

god was really testing you tonight.

you shooed them away, locking up the door behind them and stomping up the stairs. just praying he wasn’t choking on his own vomit or something.

the sight that greeted you literally made you pause and take out your phone, nails tapping the screen as you took a picture. rafe cameron, laying on his back and seemingly enthralled by the ceiling fan. it was genuinely amusing and kind of adorable. but the bottle of whiskey sitting next to him reminded you of your duty.

“rafe. sit up.”

his head snapped up at your voice, a boyish grin on his lips. he looked younger when he was drunk, stress and age having melted away.

“heeey, baby, whaddaya doin’ hereee?” he slurred, a low rumbly version of his voice.

you stepped closer, standing over him. hands on your hips as you looked down at him. his eyes were hardly open but you didn’t miss how they trailed down your figure.

“making sure you don’t die — get up.” the words were sharp in attempt to make him seriously listen.

he giggled and sighed, pushing up to rest on his elbows. the movement had his head spinning but he didn’t give a shit. just needed a better look at his pretty best friend.

“oh, y’know it turns me on when y’talk to me like that…”

you poked his side with your foot a bit harshly. patience wearing thin, you glared down at him.

“you’re such a pain in my ass—“

“mmm, love your ass,” he hummed but then groaned when you kicked him again, harder.

“rafe, i am so serious right now—“

with a childish huff of annoyance, he lifted himself off the ground but then immediately flopped face first on his bed. small victories, small victories.

you were happy to see dumb and dumber had enough brains to leave a water bottle with him. you grabbed it off the nightstand and perched at the edge of the bed next to the drunken 6’2 baby. a delicate hand rubbed his back; despite being annoyed at him for getting this drunk, you were still worried.

“hey, babe, c’mon — turn over. you need to drink some water…”

rafe unceremoniously flipped over, long legs dangling off the side of the bed. he sat up slowly and groaned at each movement. the room was nonstop spinning, so he decided to focus on one thing: your face. a smile worked its way onto his lips before he could stop himself.

you looked so beautiful, all worried and doting on him. blue eyes stared at your features (like he didn’t already have them committed to memory). the tent in his pant caught your eye and he watched as your eyes rolled. despite the memories of nights spent tangled up with him, you couldn’t believe the audacity he had.

“no way you’re seriously hard right now—“

“mmm, can’t control it around you.”

his smirk was frustrating you, in more ways than one. no, you wouldn’t do anything while he was this drunk. he knows that. yet he still tries to lean up and—

the water bottle presses to his lips, you trying to ease him into drinking and ignoring the bulge you’ve become all too familiar with. his betrayed expression made you snicker. this wasn’t the time to let fantasies run wild. kicking off your slippers and tucking your legs beneath you, you leaned closer.

“c’mon, rafe,” your voice was sweet, so sweet. he couldn’t do anything but take large gulps of water, trying to please you. he was a dumbass but you smiled at his eager approach.

“okay, okay — slow down before you jus’ throw it all up…” the giggle you let out settled right into his bones. rafe found himself wondering why you were just friends. he thought that a lot lately.

“go out with me.”

he definitely thought he sounded more debonair than he did. in reality, half of the words he spoke just flowed into each other. but he kept that low drawl that always sent you reeling. you couldn’t do this, couldn’t approach that territory. not now. you’d be happy if you never did.

“rafe—“ you tensed up.

“no, seriously. you’re— you’re gorgeous and y’put up with me. i mean, c’mon—“

the deep sting to your heart wasn’t something new. but it felt stronger this time, more painful. with a sigh, you set the water back down on his nightstand, brushing his hair back as he continues to rant.

“i think we get along great. y’know y’ten times better than— than any other chick i’ve been with— shit, any chick on the island—“

a bittersweet smile graced your lips. rafe noticed they were devoid of any pink or gloss. you really got out of bed just to come and take care of him? that’s gotta mean something.

“c’mon, doll face… gimme a reason y’shouldn’t.”

his words trailed off into contented hums when you started to scratch his scalp. boys are so easy. but boys aren’t rafe.

“i’m a bitch.” the resignation in your voice was telling. being a bitch, being called one wasn’t something new to you. these days you accepted the word with pride, reclaiming it in a sense. but you knew rafe, kook boys, and hell even pogue boys didn’t want a bitch. you were too much for most people.

the scoff he let out made you smile, cheeks dimpling and fingers twisting his hair. he shook his head with a frown and rested a large hand on your waist.

“nooo, y’not.” the words punctuated with a squeeze.

“i am—“

rafe reached up and cupped the back of your neck, silencing any chance to speak or protest. you know what that touch meant: ‘i’m talking now’.

“you’re beautiful. and— and smart and good.” his whispered words are drunken and mumbled. but you felt like your heart might explode, a heat pushing through your veins and replacing the blood with rafe.

rafe, rafe, rafe.

“best girl i know... yeah?” he urges, squeezing the back of your neck. your heart thumps faster at the pressure. you nod, because what else can you do when he speaks to you like that?

with a satisfied hum, he smiles. the action completely softens his face and it blows you away every time. you’re pressed closer, leaning over him, and he’s staring at you like he can’t believe you’re real.

“that’s my girl…”

you can’t tell who leans in first, but soon you’re locking lips with your best friend. something that shouldn’t be familiar and exhilarating as it is, but continues to be every single time. the kiss that you share is more gentle than you two have ever been with each other. in your complicated relationship, it was always hot and rough.

but this… this was slow and comforting. he tasted like whiskey and you let your lips part just slightly, a tentative lick of his tongue into the warmth of your mouth made you feel weak.

rafe was alight with want. he’d always wanted you. wanted to be in your presence. wanted to hear your voice. wanted to have you beneath him. wanted to be beneath you. he wanted it all. maybe it was the whiskey talking, but nothing had ever felt more right than when your hand cupped his cheek and your lips where on his.

“you should sleep…” your voice was hardly recognizable, soft and hesitant against his lips. he didn’t have to to ask, you knew he wanted you to stay. and you know you couldn’t have left if you wanted to.

so, you let him wrap his arms around you and nestled into his neck. and when he starts to snore like he always denies he does, you felt like things might be okay. despite it all, he was gonna be your rafe.

[gingersxng]

Red

Pairing: f!reader x San

Genre: smut 18+

Notes: sub!reader, mean rough dom!san, reader is a stripper, San has a big dick, reader has big tits, kissing, nipple sucking, pet names (princess, doll, kitten, pup), San calls reader a slut, pussy eating, unprotected sex (don’t), spanking, biting, marking, breeding kink, dacryphilia, cursing, you could call San a manwhore, orgothumophilia, cum cum cum, creampie, overstimulation. maybe forgot something!

a/n: I’ve had this in my notes since april and finally were able to finish it cause my motivation hasn’t been on top lately:) turned out kinda short tho

Words: 1.3k

“fuck.. you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on, I knew I made a great choice when I hired you” San whispered huskily in your ear as you sat on his lap completely naked, your sparkly red dress was tossed somewhere on the floor in Sans private red room. San was roaming your body up and down slowly his eyes never leaving yours, your hands brushing softly against his toned abs which was covered in lipstick kiss prints.

“I bet you say that to all the girls” you gave him a playful smile. “but this time I mean it” he stopped at your juicy tits, giving your nipples a light pinch. you couldn’t help but to throw your head back at the insane feeling. you felt yourself getting wetter as his lips moved from your neck down to your hardened nipples.

“don’t think I can hold it much longer princess, I need to fuck you” his hips began to rock slowly and you felt how his clothed cock poked you right in your bare pussy. you got up and saw the wet patch your pussy left on his crotch, you got in eye level with him and palmed him through his pants “then fuck me big boy”

a deep groan left his lips and his eyes darkened, he hurried to zip up his pants and pull out his thick hard cock which was aching to be squeezed by your wet little pussy. with a rough motion San spun you around, grabbed you by the waist and placed you over his dick, he gave your ass a hard slap, smirking as it jiggled. you squirmed in his firm grip trying to lower yourself but San was much stronger than you (ofc) and stopped you, instead he began to place sloppy kisses along your back and on your ass. you stood with your legs on each side of his thighs, you whined when he sunk his teeth into one of your ass cheeks, San hummed in satisfaction.

“bend over doll” his voice got a level lower and it literally made your pussy throb like crazy, all you wanted was to ride his yummy cock. “I said.. bend OVER!” he raised his voice at you, in a split second you were bent over, your ass and pussy on full display in front of Sans face. you were lying to yourself if you said that angry San didn’t turn you on, omg now you wanted him to fuck you even more, fuck you dumb.

your thoughts were soon interrupted as you felt his warm tongue between your soaking folds, his hands rested on your ass as he devoured your pussy like a starving animal. he was rough and made you moan out loud, you bit your lip trying to stay quiet but you had to admit it was fucking hard. you took a glimpse at San who had his whole face buried in your cunt, his cock was still rock hard and was starting to leak precum. your mouth watered and once again you began to squirm feeling how your orgasm creeped up on you.

“stay still or I won’t fuck you” he growled without looking up at you. another whine left your mouth and your legs began to give out “pls San!! I ca-can’t stand up anymore” San plunged his tongue deep inside your pussy one last time before looking up at you, his face glistening with your arousal. “such an impatient little slut, wanting to be fucked by my cock” he slapped your ass again. he fucked his cock in his hand coating it with precum before he lowered you enough for his tip to tease your hole “now be a good girl and do as I tell you” and with that he sunk you down onto his big dick, your mouth parted and a high pitched moan echoed inside the room.

“that’s it kitten, fuck yourself on my cock” you slowly started to move up and down his thick shaft, taking every inch of him, letting it caress your walls and poke you right in the cervix “you’re so big” you whimpered. San let you do all the work for a while as he sat back against the red armchair watching with a smirk how his cock disappeared and reappeared from your pussy, a sight to die for.

you fastened your pace bouncing on him, giving him all you got left before your orgasm washes over you. Sans cock hit the right spot every time you sunk down on him and the noises you made were unholy, you were so close to cumming that you didn’t care how high your moans got. San grabbed your hips and slammed you down with full force on his dick making your eyes tear up, he was in charge and you couldn’t do nothing to stop him “shiii-shit Saaaan!” you cried out “gonna-“ your tears poured down your cheeks as you felt the knot in your stomach finally break, San didn’t stop though, he continued slamming your hips against his own, your cum was now seeping out coating the base of his cock.

“not gonna stop until I’ve fucked you full of my cum, gonna breed you pup” San growled, he stilled your hips and walked you over to the red velvet sofa, cock still inside you.

you placed your arms on the sit cushion with your ass in the air, a perfect angle for San to fuck you in. he slowly caressed the small of your back giving you a few seconds to breath and come down from your high “good girl” out of nowhere he pushed himself back into your abused cunt, pushing your head down into the pillows as he did. his pace were rough and fast, his breathing became heavy and his black hair was now stuck onto his forehead. you screamed into the pillows as he split you open, your legs were shaking, your back was arching “gonna cum in this slutty pussy of yours, gonna give you a baby”

a second orgasm was approaching and you felt how your mind turned blank, you got dizzy. San pulled out and teased his tip to your entrance and then rammed it in again. fucking his workers at his stripclub was nothing new for San, he’d taken his turn with all the sexy stripper girls except for you and boy did he wish he’d fuck you sooner.

“cum with me doll I know you’re close” he leaned down to your ear massaging your breasts as he hammered himself inside you. you almost didn’t hear a word he said cause you were too fucked up, San put a hand on your clit and stimulated it in fast circles. you finally had the strength to lift your head from the pillows “plss- sto- i’m.. San” you couldn’t speak properly and you stuttered from the force by Sans thrusts. you didn’t know how long you were gonna be able to stand anymore, your legs shook like a leaf and your eyes were rolling back in your head.

San finally slowed down his thrusts and went for a slow circular motion with his hips, he stilled his hips and pushed himself further inside you, his hot cum filling your sore insides. you came a couple seconds after and San held you up by the waist so you wouldn’t fall and hurt you. he stayed inside you a bit longer catching his breath before he pulled out, your mixed cum dripped out down your inner thighs, San gave your ass a pat and put himself back in his pants “fuck, I needed that”

you had fallen asleep as soon as he placed you on the sofa and helped you clean up, naked and pretty you were asleep in your boss’s private red room. San watched your naked form glowing in the dim lights wishing he could fuck it everyday, he squatted down in front of your face and gave you a kiss on your forehead, he then covered you with a blanket and headed back outside.

“sleep tight kitten”

[grandline-fics]

Could i ask for a Law x FemReader with the “accidental kiss” prompt?, and if possible, could law have a crush on the reader if you decide to do this ask?

(Love your fics)

-anon

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Accidental Kiss

WARNINGS:  Fluff

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 1,270

A/N: Hi there, thank you for this prompt based request. I hope you like what I came up with for this one.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

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The chatter among the crew at the breakfast table was as lively as ever. The meals on the Polar Tang were always savoured for everyone to connect and enjoy the time together before everyone resigned themselves away to take on their tasks for the day. You’d finished your meal but remained sitting, holding your mug of coffee close as you let the heat radiate into your hands, the thought of drinking it gone from your mind as you only focussed on your Captain. Your eyes remained on his and you smiled softly as you listened with keen interest before giving your input to the conversation with Law. 

While other chatter sounded around you, the pair of you were unaware of the looks you were receiving. Penguin and Shachi were trying to hold back their smirks, Bepo and Ikkaku stared with dreamy expressions while the others looked at the scene before them completely baffled. All of them saw how obvious it was you and the Captain shared a deep connection and held even deeper feelings for each other. Why hadn’t either of you noticed or tried to act on those feelings before? In the crew’s eyes the two of you were already a couple in all but name and acknowledgement from you and Law. 

When you finally brought your lips to you mug your gaze broke reluctantly from Law’s face and you caught sight of the time. As much as you could have easily spent the entire day talking to Law about anything and everything you knew your chores wouldn’t do themselves. With a sigh you finished your drink and began to rise, gathering the cleared plates and bowls close to you to take them to the sink. As you leant forward to reach for something just out of your grasp, Jean Bart spoke up to ask Law a question, causing him to turn his head. Then the chatter stopped instantly and the dining hall froze in its entirety, everyone taking in the sight of Law’s lips against yours. 

You didn’t even know how it happened, your mind couldn’t register the odds of this kind of thing happening. One second you were reaching for a bowl, the next your Captain’s lips were against yours and you were unable to move and the look in Law’s eyes told you everything; it was an accident and he seemed just as bewildered by the situation as you were. You couldn’t hold back the heat bursting against your skin or silence the heavy hammering of your heart in your chest. 

It felt like time had stopped when really the whole thing lasted a few seconds. You didn’t even know how either of you managed to find the strength to disengage but you did it. While Law quickly made his way to the safety of his study, away from the prying eyes and excited whispers. You however weren’t so privileged. You spent as long as possible standing at the sink, scrubbing the dishes for as long as you could, keeping your gaze on the water and not on the others of the crew you could feel were lingering in the room. When there was nothing else for you to clean you had no choice but to finally go to your assigned task for the day. Thankfully it was just you and Bepo doing the monthly stock check of the medical supplies which took most of the day and it was thankfully filled with silence due to complete concentration needing to be had. 

However you knew Bepo’s lack of comment on the morning’s incident was too good to be true because when it came to delivering the updated stock numbers to Law, the damned bear was suddenly overcome with one of his stomachaches and needed to lie down immediately. You muttered curses over and over as you made your way to Law’s office. Briskly you knocked on his door and entered when he called for you to enter. At first you thought you could pretend that what had happened never happened but when you walked in and met his gaze you faltered. You couldn’t help but glance at his lips while tightly pressing your own into a tight line. Quickly you inwardly berated yourself for your juvenile reaction. With a sharp clearing of your throat you continued into his office. All you needed to do was give him the papers and leave, it was easy, you’d done it hundreds of times before. 

“No Bepo?” Law asked, trying to find something, anything to speak about to delay talking about the kiss. 

“Stomachache.” You explained, slipping the papers into his hand and then you paused. Normally you would stay and chat but if you did this time would he be thinking you were staying for something else? But if you left immediately then that would be out of character and would make him think something was wrong, that you didn’t want to be around him anymore which couldn’t be further from the truth. What if he wanted you to leave because of what happened? Your mind was spinning and you couldn’t see an answer anywhere. Finally through your thoughts Law’s voice saying your name made you focus. “Yes?” You answered immediately.

“Was he okay?” Law asked, never forgetting his role as a Doctor even though he knew the bear would be more than okay. He highly suspected this was an instance that the navigator was lying, still he had to check. 

“You could offer to kiss him better.” Your joke came before your brain could stop you and you regretted it instantly, hands flying over your mouth as though you could force the words back. You always made jokes like this but given what had happened between you both this morning it just brought the memory and the feeling of his lips on yours flooding back. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” You rambled behind your hands. 

You and Law stared at each other and finally he broke the silence and the tension by laughing, all but relieved that you were just as much as a mess as he was about it all. Seeing him laugh let you join in and it felt as though the weight on your shoulders and anxiety of that accidental kiss possibly ruining everything between you disappeared. It felt like how it normally did and you could breathe easier now. As the laughter eased away you caught your Captain staring at your lips just as you had his when you entered his office. “Permission to say as unexpected as it was, it was a nice kiss, Captain?”

“Permission granted.” Law smirked at you. “Though you must be easily pleased if that impressed you.”

“Wow you’re so arrogant.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “I said it was nice, not that it blew my mind forever. I was just being kind.”

“Not arrogance if it’s fact.” Law replied smoothly as he rose from his seat to stand in front of you, his lips as close as possible without touching. “I can give you a real kiss now and ‘blow your mind forever’ as you phrased it?”

“You’re welcome to try, Captain.” You murmured, leaning your head back just a fraction and grinning in satisfaction to see him respond by leaning in again to maintain the infuriatingly close distance between you. There was a brief beat between you both before the space was closed and your lips met. You all but melted into Law’s touch and he was right. Compared to this kiss right now, what you’d shared in the dining room that morning was nothing but a happy accident.

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[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING GREEN !!! CHARLES L. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: it was his turn to play once, and now he has to beg too.

content warning: use of explicit language, smut under the cut (minors dni!), sub!charles, themes of jealousy and friends with benefits, brief descriptions of oral sex (m receiving), possessive!reader, not filthy enough… i think, pwp

note: i really should be writing my papers rn. enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

his eyes weren’t the only greens that made their presence known in the party tonight. no, it was also not just the dress that she had slipped on in hopes of catching his attention and taking him back to her place. 

her emotions were, in fact, turning into a form of jealousy as she watched him dancing with some other girl on the dance floor. her eyes forming into a heavy scowl as she sipped on her daiquiri, watching as charles smirked at her and attached himself to a stranger while they dirty danced.

he was having too much fun with someone else as if he hadn’t done called her to his room the other day only to dominate her.

he was acting like this and she had no control over that; he wasn’t hers after all. they were nothing but “friends” who casually fucked each other’s brains out as a pastime.

but then again… if they were friends, then he wouldn’t have marked her neck until she couldn’t go on a date with some stranger from an app, right? he wouldn’t have done that knowing that she had a date a day or two after— that those marks would last longer than intended. friends don’t do shit like that. 

if they were friends, then maybe… maybe she’d make him realize that she, too, could mark him to the next week— so he wouldn’t go to that date that their stupid friends set him up to because “he needs to get laid.” 

it was his time to play once, but they were taking turns— and it was now hers. 

“ngh~ amour,” his voice croaked as his mouth gaped open, feeling her mouth wrapped around his cock as she hummed. the bassy vibration around his cock made him whimper in desperation. the urge to cum was just there and she was torturing him. “‘m gonna—“

he whined quietly when her mouth pulled away with a ‘pop’, her hand replacing her mouth as she wrapped it around the base of his cock. she firmly said, “keep your eyes on me, charles.” 

“i ca- c—“

“sure you can,” she laughed. if he could even think right now, he would’ve said that she wasn’t like this days ago. she was an angel begging for him to let her cum days ago— and now she was a vixen who wanted him to die a slow death. 

she continued to give his tip kitten licks as he whined. “i want you to look at me so you know who’s the only person that can make you feel like this.” 

“i- amour,” he whimpered, urging himself to open his eyes as he peered down at her. his adam’s apple bobbing when he caught sight of the lust and possessiveness that washed through her features. 

her tongue traced over the saliva that dripped down his cock, eyes still trained on his hazy green ones before her gaze trailed down his purple-marked chest and abdomen. she had too much fun nipping at his body that she hadn’t realized the difference between marking him and seeing the aftermath of it. 

“so beautiful,” she murmured quietly, stroking him continuously as she gave him a mocking pitiful look. “quite a shame that others would see you like this.”

“n- no,” he shook his head frantically, his brain short circuiting and heart desperately wanting her as he babbled, “no- no one’s seen m- me. no o- one will. i promise, m- mon amour-“ 

“that right?” she teased, her hand moving up for her thumb to rub on his tip as she continued, “what about the lady earlier? you were so ready to give it to her, charles— as if you’d already forgotten about me.”

“no! she- i- wan’ to make you jealous,” he whimpered, his eyes shutting closed again as his head dropped back at the pleasure. “ple- please, amour~ i want to be inside you.” 

“oh? you wanted to make me jealous?” her eyes darkened a little before leaning up to him and giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. “you sure did. you sure made me jealous...” 

she sunk back to her knees and said, “and i’m going to make sure you wouldn’t have to do it again. after all, nobody would be able to see you in this state if it isn’t me, hm?” 

she let her mouth devour his cock once more, bobbing up and down as charles moaned aloud, begging for her to let him cum inside her as sounds of squelching escaped her mouth and dribbles of saliva fell down her chin. he was writhing under her, and he was too fucked out to even say anything— he loved it. 

he loved her.

if she was going to be this controlling in bed, then he might as well continue to make her jealous. at least now he knew that she wanted him to want her and her alone.

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While

Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,944

Part: 1 of ??

Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.

When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.

Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected. 

The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first. 

“Hello?”

Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place. 

He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -” 

“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?” 

“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -” 

“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?” 

“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.” 

“And what does that have to do with me?” 

Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”

“You staying anywhere when you get here?” 

“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”

“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?” 

Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.” 

“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.” 

Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen. 

“Another round, brother?” 

Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.” 

“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.” 

A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket. 

“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?” 

“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.” 

------

City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.  

After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.

The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly. 

“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.” 

He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.” 

Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”

Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes. 

Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her older sister than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.

Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.

They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went. 

Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.

“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap. 

He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?” 

“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.” 

“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray. 

“Any time.” 

A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them. 

“I look crazy, huh?” 

“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.” 

“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?” 

“Don’t start, TJ.” 

“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?” 

“What? TJ? That’s your name.” 

“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.” 

Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.” 

“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.” 

The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction. 

Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far. 

“Treece, I can do it.” 

“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”

His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.

“So, how you doing? How you been?” 

“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.” 

“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?” 

“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.” 

“What about your man? He driving you crazy?” 

Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend. 

“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.” 

Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.” 

“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”

“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.” 

“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.” 

“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.” 

Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.” 

Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly. 

Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression. 

“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.” 

“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?” 

“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?” 

Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further. 

“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.” 

“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.” 

A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway. 

Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off. 

For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony. 

By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together. 

Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.

Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance. 

The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs. 

It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.

After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks. 

Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.

Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.

She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.

“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?” 

“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.” 

“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”

Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”

“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”

Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.

“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.” 

He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?” 

“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.” 

“TJ for you.” 

Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them. 

“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?” 

“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted. 

“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.” 

“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”

“What’d you lose?” 

“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.” 

“Why?”

“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.

Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.” 

“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”

Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line. 

She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him. 

“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.” 

Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone. 

Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard. 

Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.

“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.” 

“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.” 

“I fucked that up.” 

“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.” 

“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter. 

He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused. 

He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow. 

She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.” 

Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.” 

“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.

He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.

“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.” 

Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters. 

“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.” 

TAGS: @planetblaque

Happy to tag whoever is interested.

[cakelitter]

Lipstick Stains

Boss! Leon x Assistant Fem! Reader

Warnings: oral (m recieve), semi public sex, slight spanking, p in v, praise kink, cock warming, creampie, dacryphilia

Summary: Doing "overtime" with new assistant

Words: 3.6k

a/n: almost died three times while writing this. actually sucked the living life out of me for no reason but anw it's here. enjoy!!

It’s another average day for Leon, attending meetings, sorting through files and reports, getting a shit load of stress thrown over to his lap, and cooling off with you sucking his dick beneath his desk.

It’s been like this for almost a month now, the same cycle over and over again. However, your part is his favorite part of the day. A thing he actually looks forwards to, something he actually enjoys.

He looks down under his desk, eyes watching the way yours tear up, uncapable of taking him all the way, spit leaking from your mouth and down to his balls, your trembling delicate hands massaging the sac.

His hand makes its way to your head, gently petting your hair like a cat. You let out a soft sigh through your nostril, mouth occupied with something else. God, you’re perfect, exactly what he needs. Ever since you walked through the organization’s door, wearing your tight black skirt with the thin black tights beneath. He knew that the two of you are going to have lots and lots of fun.

One of his employees brought him the CVs of the different assistants that applied for the role. He usually couldn’t give less of a shit who gets assigned to him, and just picks a random file from the ones splayed out in front of him. Telling someone their schedule and picking up the phone isn’t a job that requires a PHD.

And that’s exactly what he did this time as well. However, while he was looking at another woman’s CV, he spotted out of the corner of his eye your photo that was on your file, gravitating him towards it. Dropping the one he had in hand; he picks yours up. Pretty eyes and soft lips, he bets that you’re much cuter in real life too. You’re also more than qualified for the job.

Maybe he’s an asshole for letting pretty privilege get the best of him, but as soon as he saw you in real life, he couldn’t even pretend to feel guilty.

You were nervous the first day, fidgeting with your pen and stumbling over your words when talking to him. He enjoyed watching your anxious expression, and the way your eyes struggled to maintain contact with his way too much.

He’d call you over to his office to ask you questions, he could very easily find the answer to on his computer, but where’s the fun in that? He’d rather have you right in front of his eyes at all times. Being completely honest, he did consider firing you at one point, you were too much of a distraction. Causing him to sit and stare at you through the glass windows of his office, peeking into yours, instead of dealing with the mountains of papers he has piling on his desk.

Are you single? There is no way any man would pass the opportunity of claiming you as his as soon as possible. A sight for sore eyes, saccharine sweet and as fragile as porcelain. Treading around him like a scarce butterfly, he’s dying to catch.

He’d watch as other male employees would strike up a conversation with you, flirting and complimenting. Your cheeks would heat up before dismissing any of their offers to take you out. Actually, he had some of his friends who came to visit, straight up comment on your appearance. Chris even once came over to “check up on him”, he talked to him for not more than five minutes and then spend thirty minutes talking to you.

At this point, he should even consider having your face on billboards and flyers when recruiting new trainees, people would be lining up at the D.S.O’s door the very next day.

Truthfully, that did spark a bit of jealousy in his heart. How unprofessional for them to flirt with his assistant, people have no shame these days…

Yeah, he’d do the same.

Recently, the work load has been getting out of hand, and he can’t seem to catch a break. He’d spend late nights sorting things out even after everyone has left, leaving the building quiet and eerie. But him sticking around for so long meant that you had to be with him… well, not really but he preferred if you did.

With a promise of doubling your salary if you do, you agreed. The two of you would work in his office, with you sitting on the chair facing him, splitting the tasks between each other and working efficiently in hopes of finishing as soon as possible and making it back home to get at least some decent amount of sleep.

The first couple of times, you didn’t talk much about anything aside from the task at hand. He’s definitely seen you converse energetically with your other acquaintances, who you became friends with. Laughing and giggling at whatever you’d talk about. But when it came to him, you’d shy away and remain formal. 

Sure, that is what your job requires you to do, so technically you’re in the right. But that’s usually the case when your boss doesn’t have a big fat crush on you.

Leon doesn’t think he’s intimidating, like he jokes around with everyone and rarely gets upset. He thinks he’s more of a laid-back boss, not the strict kind. He can never pull off that persona, the dad jokes spill out of his mouth like its instinct.

He cracked a few jokes around you from time to time, earning a few giggles out of that sweet mouth of yours. But still there is that barrier he just can not seem to break between the two of you.

Well, it’s called morals and being a decent human being and not hitting on his assistant, but that’s besides the point. Either way, he enjoyed spending some extra time with you, his insomnia and those hellish nightmares wouldn’t have let him sleep at home anyways. He might as well spend that time staring at you rather than a blank ceiling.

Although, after a week of spending extra time together, your “bond” has definitely become stronger. You know, boss and assistant bonding time, something that all other normal bosses do. Both of you started having full on conversations, getting so caught up in what the two of you are discussing. And neglecting the task at hand. Such a distraction you are.

Blame it on the sleepless nights you both were experiencing or blame it on fate, but somehow along the lines you ended up on his lap. And one thing led to another and next thing you know he’s balls deep into you. Body sprawled out on his desk, your mixed fluids ruining all the documents beneath. Governmental documents, documents that the fucking president was most likely gonna read.

You know what, the president, bio weapons and bio terrorists can wait, he clearly has more important things to worry about in this moment, like hearing you moan his name in tandem as he fucked you stupid.

He wished that every single man he’s seen hit on you, could watch the way he got to have all of you, watch the expressions you make when he makes you cum.

Poor baby, babbling nonsense and clutching on his shoulders for dear life. You’re too perfect for your own good, a pretty face and the cutest little pussy he’s seen. You can’t even see straight, hazy eyes batting up at him complimented with shaky heavy breaths. Can’t even think when your full of cock, how adorable.

And so, this dirty little secret between the two of you would commence. You’d act normal during shifts, then fuck like rabbits during overtime. The thrill was exhilarating, you bouncing on his dick, in an office where if anyone decided to walk in, they could see the two of you.

Honestly, you’re too much of a tease. Bending over in front of him, your skirt hiking up till your ass is practically out. Unbuttoning the first few buttons of your shirt cause “it’s too hot” even though the air conditioner is set on such a low temperature, his balls are threatening to fall off in the midst of August. And after all that, you’d bat those pretty lashes at him feigning innocence and playing dumb.

He feels like he’s sixteen again, dick hard as long as you’re around. Going for round after round, till he has that birth control of yours working over time as well. On the bright side, he can’t wait to head to work everyday now. He’s even being more productive during the normal work hours as well, ensuring that he’s free all night for your “bonding time”.

His office is the default setting where your activities would take place, sure fucking on a bed would do wonders for his aching back. But again, where’s the fun in that? Instead, he can have you right then and there. Plus, he likes the “sleeping with my assistant” part a little too much, never knew he had a thing for that, but he does.

Fucking you on his desk, in his office, you’re his assistant, all his.

Back to the present, where was he? Ah yes.

Unfortunately, he has a few documents left to fill. And you being the kind sweet angel you are, you’re giving him moral support under his desk. Always so thoughtful.

Your soft delicate lips are wrapped around his thick cock, not even sucking, just cock warming him while occasionally moving a few times. It’s surprisingly relaxing, the two of you should do this more often. He would have you on your knees, hidden under his desk all day, every day if he could, but people would notice your jarring absence. Moreover, you’re messy. Giving him the sloppiest head ever, the filthy sounds can be heard from a mile away, somehow though making the process even more enjoyable.

He's not even paying you much mind, locking in and focusing on what needs to be done. While you do whine a bit when he doesn’t feed you some of his cloying attention, but it’s for your own good. The sooner he finishes, the sooner he gets to satisfy the aching between your thighs.

Your head is resting on the plush of his thigh, dick still in your mouth like a lollipop. Your so wet its practically seeping through your clothes. Some useless attempts were made to grab his attention, you’d shuffle on your knees, suck on his dick a few times, and sigh every now and then.

However, he doesn’t give in. And so, you decide to take matter into your own hands, literally. Slithering your fingers over to your weeping core, trying to get some stimulation.

“If you touch yourself, I’m making sure you’re not cuming for a week.”

It’s not a threat, he would never threaten a sweet thing like you. But it’s a very… passionate promise.

Knowing better, your hand retreats and returns to its original place. He’s not even looking at you, but figured you’d try to do something like that. Your eyes are practically burning holes into his face with the way he can sense your glossy eyes stare at him.

And after a few more minutes, he’s done. Taking his hands off the keyboard, he places it on your puffed cheek, thumb stroking slowly.

“Suck me off, and I’ll reward you baby.” He whispers. Your head eagerly perks up and you immediately get to work. The feeling of your tongue on his cock feels out of this world, drawing out a breath from his lips. Your head bobbing up and down his length, attempting to take it all into your mouth.

The noises are nasty to say the least, but it’s music to his ears. Your muffled moans and the sound of your throat around him, work in harmony creating such a crude melody. However, you push yourself a little too hard, causing you to gag and pull away.

Catching your breath, tears threaten to drip down your face, and your lipstick is completely ruined, transforming into a ring surrounding the base of his cock. Spit and precum glaze your mouth and chin causing them to shine. Fuck, that’s sexy.

Moments later your tongue licks up the base of his cock all the way till the leaking tip, giving it a little open mouthed – kiss, with precum forming small threads connecting the tip of his cock to your lips. And once again, your mouth encloses around him with your hand at the base to make sure no part of him is left neglected.

“Yeah baby, just like that.” Voice is breathy and low. His hand reaches the back of your head resting there, not using any force to push past your limits.

It’s obvious that you’re putting in immense effort to please him, always such a hard worker. Moans and grunts escape his lips along with some praise. You feel so good around him, really fucking good. He closes his eyes, and leans his head back against the chair enjoying and acknowledging the feeling of release approaching.

Opening his eyes a few moments later, he looks down at you. “Just a little more sweetheart, such a good job.”

Reaching over he grabs the hair surrounding your face and holds it for you in a makeshift pony tail. You’re sucking him off so well, he’s struggling to keep his voice down. Your teeth did graze him a time or two, but he’s sure there is plenty of time for the two of you to practice.

It doesn’t take long for the knot his stomach to snap, releasing all of his cum in your throat. You keep on bobbing your head up and down his length, milking every drop out of him. His tense muscles relax, as the blissful feeling of his orgasm washes over him. But soon enough, he pulls your head away, the discomfort of overstimulation starting to settle in.

You release his dick from your mouth with a pop, fucked out eyes looking up at him and flashing him a smile. You swallow the last bit of fluid left in your mouth, robbing him from the sight of the mess he made in your tight throat.

His mouth curls up into soft smile reciprocating yours, hand now placed on your cheek as you lean into his touch. You’re melting his heart, while simultaneously making his dick spring back to life once again.

“Come here, baby.” He pats his lap, and offers you his hand. You comply, placing your hand in his, and plopping yourself on his lap. You straddle him while his large arms wrap around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his and leans in, closing the space between your lips.

His heart swells with the familiar sensation of your lips. He can taste himself on your mouth, hands reaching over grabbing the fat on each side of your thighs. His lips manage to capture one of yours, biting on it playfully, before continuing to kiss you affectionately. Pulling away to catch your breath, you giggle at the sight in front of you.

“What’s so funny?”

“My lipstick is all over your face.”

He smiles, thumb swiping across his lips trying to get the pigment off. You stop him from doing so, tugging his hand away.

“No stop, the color suits you.”

“Is that so?” You nod, placing another soft peck, solidifying your point. You’re so cute he could just eat you... well, he did.

Your hand grabs his face, scattering kisses all over it before moving down to his neck. Brittle fingers fumble with the first few buttons, revealing the top of his chest. You drop down, trailing your kisses over his jaw and down his neck, all the way till his muscly shoulders. Each kiss leaving a mark behind it, proof of where those tender lips of yours once were.

Moving back, you admire the masterpiece you just created. He watches you fondly, completely enraptured by you. Judging by your expression, you seem pleased with your work. “Having fun?”

“Not yet, you still haven’t fulfilled your promise.” He raises his brows and chuckles at your comment. “Better get to work then huh.”

Dropping a final kiss on your lips, he ushers you back up and onto your feet before turning you around to bend over on his desk. His crotch makes contact with your clothed ass, as his hands grab the side of your hips and move down to your thighs, kneading the soft flesh between his hands.

Your legs separate, growing more impatient and needy for his touch. Moving back up to your rear, his hands ruck up your tight skirt, revealing the faint outline of your panties beneath the black tights. You hear a loud slap which is then followed by hot stinging pain on one of your ass cheeks. Yelping at the unexpected feeling, he titters at your reaction before grabbing the thin material and ripping a hole into them.

Before you get the chance to turn around and protest, his voice whispers into your ear, hot breath fanning onto the sensitive skin. “I’ll buy you new ones sweetheart, promise.”

That’s probably the fourth pair of tights he’s ripped so far. Can you blame him though? You look real good with them on, but they get in the way, so this is obviously the only way around it. Hooking the gusset of your panties with one finger, he moves it over to the side, disclosing your wet cunt to him.

Biting his lip, he runs his fingers up and down your leaky core. The idea of you getting this worked up over just having him in your mouth, sends a rush of blood to his cock. He brings his fingers over to his mouth, licking the fluids off his fingertips. The addicting taste reminding him of why he spends most the time buried between your thighs.

Grabbing his thick cock, he teases your entrance with it for a moment, covering the tip with your slick. Your hips squirm in a querulous manner, figuring he made you wait long enough; he decides to give you what you want. Pushing his length into your wet heat, receiving a moan from the two of you. Even after fucking you relentlessly every day, it always shocks him you tight you are. The grip on your hips intensifies as he completely bottoms out, his balls pressing against your clit.

He gives you a minute to adjust to his length, but it doesn’t take long for him to feel your walls sucking him in even further. His hips begin moving back before slamming into you once more. Watching the waves that form on your ass with each thrust of his hips.

Eventually, he establishes a rhythm, deep thrusts, so deep he’s seeing stars and with a pace variating from time to time. The way your pussy wraps around him, is a feeling he’ll never getting tired of. Your hands grab onto the desk below you, nails clawing helplessly at the surface.

Lewd sounds bounce off the office walls, as beads of sweat start forming on each of your bodies. His pace picks up, slamming into you uncontrollably. The scene is something straight out of a porn film, you bent over on his desk, skirt now folded on your back, tights ripped, chanting his name over and over again. As for him, messy lipstick stains travel from his lips all the way down to his collarbone. Biting his lip, he can taste the cosmetic flavor of the product in his mouth.

At this pace, and this being his second orgasm he won’t be able to last much longer. And so, his hand slithers over to your pudgy clit, rubbing firm circles on the sensitive bud. Your walls tighten up around him, and your moans get louder from the stimulation. “Getting close sweetheart?”

“Yeah” voice shaky and chopped, you turn around to face him as tears trickle down your face from his overwhelming touch. Mascara totally ruined, the black pigment mixing with your salty tears and cascading down your cheeks. His dick throbs at the scene, eyes taking a mental picture he’s going to remember till his sorrow filled heart stops beating.

“Cream my cock baby so I can fill you up.” You whine, legs wobbling from the rough nature that he’s handling you in. And with a loud whine, your velvety walls squeeze around him tightly, earning a grunt from His lips while you coat his length with your white release.

Leon opens his mouth, and senses the acquainted feeling of release sending his mind to pure euphoria. His pace slows down to slow and mellow thrusts, as he empties his balls inside of your cunt. After a few seconds, his movement ceases, letting the two of you catch your breaths and bask in the afterglow.

You lay your head on the desk beneath you, out of breath and letting the waves of sleepiness wash over you. Smiling to himself, he pulls out slowly, brows furrowing from the uncomfortable feeling, and places your panties back in place, before pulling his pants back up.

Returning your skirt down to its original position, he leans in and places a tender kiss between your shoulder blades. Masculine hands grab your waist, pulling you off of his desk. He sits back down on his chair, tugging you to in turn sit on his lap.

Arms embrace you once again, his mouth propped against your temple, occasionally placing a few pecks. Your eyes close, with your face nuzzling up against his neck.

“You’re fired.”

“What?!” You lift you head u, eyes wide in shock yet trying to decipher if he’s serious of not. “Why?!”

He smiles, all of that sleepiness that was once over taking you is now nowhere to be seen. “For stealing my heart.”

“You’re so corny, oh my god.” He laughs trying to stop you from getting up. “You know you love it, come on.”

divider by: @/lavendergalactic

[bohemianblasphemy]

things castiel would do bc i said so ✨

N/SFW

SFW:

- oh castiel. you are such a cutie.

- before being with you, he would continuously stare at you from afar. he’d pine over you always thinking he was being subtle, but in reality he’d just sit or stand there gawking at you. if you’re speaking to him, he will be staring at you intensely to make sure you know that he’s listening.

- would use pebbling to show you he’s interested in you- but absolutely doesn’t know what to give you.

“y/n… i have got you something.”

*places a pair of sunglasses he found at a petrol station on the counter*

“thanks cas?”

*grins*

- dean would witness his attempt and tell him to get you flowers, or something that related to your interests.

- he asks for advice from sam and dean about pursuing you, sam being actually helpful and dean just… being dean.

- when he’d ask you on a date, he couldn’t contain his happiness when you said yes (reminiscent of Ken in Barbie going around the corner yelling “SUBLIME!”)

- will watch rom-coms and replicate what he sees on the screen.

- your first kiss on my gosh… it was as if fireworks went off in his head. he couldn’t get enough and will kiss you at any given opportunity.

- very protective of you, like… astronomically protective.

- he’s quite affectionate and likes to be physically near you. loves to hold your hand, have a hand around your waist- just to feel your warmth against him.

- as he doesn’t sleep, he will watch over you- admiring your sleeping frame and listening to your heartbeat, holding you as you cuddle into him.

NSFW:

- this man… whew.

- he will need to be shown what to do, but once he gets the hang of it? you’re seeing stars, tasting colours.

- he’s a very gentle lover, so eager to please you. he constantly asks how you feel and if he’s doing good, doesn’t want to hurt you.

- he’s not super loud, but he will make grunts and moans as he cums.

- “is this okay? does it feel good? p-please tell me it feels good…”

“gosh… you feel s-so amazing…”

- he loves oral, giving and receiving, but he loves receiving more. don’t get me wrong he goes down and ravishes you like there’s no tomorrow. when he feels your mouth around his cock he gets so overstimulated but he cannot get enough of it and always wants more.

- praise kink praise kink praise kink. he worships your body and the things he’d say??? absolutely euphoric.

- uses his grace to pleasure you in many different ways. enough said.

- has pressed you against the wall pizza man style more than once (and it works every single time.)

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 16

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Song Inspo: “Run to You” by the Pentatonix

Word Count: 6,200 Tags/Warnings: Physical altercation, perilous situations, fire hazards, injuries, angst, Nick and Azazel being evil psychos. 

Part 16: “Break Down the Gates”

The holiday couldn’t last forever. Eventually, you had to go back to work.

Dean didn’t like it, and neither did you. Hell, even Sam had tried to find an opening in the district attorney’s office for you. Unfortunately, all of the positions you were remotely qualified for were filled.

And as your bills had to get paid, it meant you had to take Betsy all the way up to the 22nd floor of the Savage & Co. building on a Monday morning.

Dean was already calling you.

You couldn’t answer until you got off the elevator and away from its shitty reception, but you let out a sigh before you called him back.

“Hey,” you greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doin’?” Dean asked.

“I’m good. I just got to my office,” you replied. I was also fine 20 minutes ago on the road.

You had to be patient though. You knew he was worried about you, now for more than one good reason.

“Good. Got your taser all charged up?”

“Yep, it’s in my purse,” you said. You closed the door to your office and locked it. “Which is going in my desk. You’re at the station?”

“Yeah, having my coffee right now.”

“Okay, tell the guys I said hi.”

“Will do,” said Dean. “You need anything, just call me. If you can’t get ahold of me, call Cas, or Sam, or even my dad.”

“I promise I will,” you replied. “I have to get to work here, but I hope you have a good day. And be safe.”

“That I will,” he promised in turn. “You too, baby.”

You smiled.

Once you hung up with Dean and got settled at your desk, you started by powering through your work emails. All too soon, however, there was a knock at your door. You fought against the tremor of unease that ran up your spine.

“Who is it?” you asked.

“It’s Marv,” replied your coworker, through the door. “Since when do you lock yourself in your office?”

You let out a breath and smiled. You got up and went to let him in. “I’ve found that people are less likely to interrupt me when they can’t get in.”

When the door opened, Marv gave you a look of begrudging acceptance.

“I hear ya,” he said. The man was a hermit himself, so if anyone was going to understand your self-barricading, it was Marv.

He handed you a hard-copy manilla envelope containing his monthly report, because he also had a disdain for email. 

“Why don’t you give this to Nick yourself?” you asked with a frown.

Marv held up placating hands. “Because he’s an ass, and I can only deal with so much idiocy in my life.”

“Then give it to Josh! He’s the new Senior Manager,” you pointed out.

“Josh kisses Nick’s ass. Therefore, he’s become an even bigger idiot,” Marv replied. “I’m telling you, my constitution just can’t bear it.”

You rolled your eyes and took the folder from him. “All right, get outta here. I’ll deal with this.”

“Thank you,” he said, inclining his head. He soon left to return to his hole of an office. You’d only been in there once. It had been stacked to high heaven with books and loose papers. You didn’t know how the man functioned, but you assumed it was equal parts caffeine and Prozac.

So you took the report, and you went up to the 30th floor for the first time in months.

You went down the hall to Josh’s office first, but you could hear from the other side of the closed door that he was locked in a meeting with one of the more difficult clients.

You could come back later, or just drop the folder off with Nick’s assistant.

You went back down the hall and found that Nick’s office door was cracked open, but you weren’t about to go in, even just to deliver a simple report. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone enter his office.

His assistant was out on a break, it seemed, so you couldn’t just give it to her. You contemplated leaving it on her desk with a note. But that’s when you heard the voices coming from within the office.

“As you know, my father’s back in town,” you heard Nick say. You inched closer to the door and cautiously peeked through the three inches of space in the doorway. There was another man inside, slightly taller than Nick, but leaner. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a plaid shirt. His long arms were crossed as he listened.

You could tell by the way he stood, however, that this wasn’t an associate from one of their accounts. He didn’t look like a businessman or a lawyer. The way he stood was sharper, more calculated even in his laxness.

Your brain caught up with the conversation as Nick continued to speak.

“We’re working together on this,” he said. “Keep an eye on the cop. Wait for an opportunity.”

“Together, huh? Azazel has his orders. You trying to take his place?” the other man replied. His voice was thin and nasal. You saw his profile, however. His eyes were dangerous.

Your gaze widened at the implications of his words though. Azazel?!

“Dad agrees with me. The guy’s not getting the hint, so we’ll need to remind him who really makes the rules,” Nick said.

You blinked in shock. Holy shit…Nick’s father is Azazel.

You clasped a hand over your mouth before the gasp could escape. A sharp breath still echoed through the hall. The men’s heads began to turn, but you did as well—away from the door and booking it down the hall as quietly and quickly as you could.

Your heart pounded while you searched for a way out of the hallway, out of plain sight. You found the nearest bathroom and went into the women’s. It seemed empty, at least.

There you rushed into one of the stalls and locked it. You realized that you had your phone in your pocket, and you took it out with trembling hands. Your thumb hovered over Dean’s name as panicked breaths escaped you.

But the more you thought about what you’d heard, and Nick’s ominous threat about a cop, you found yourself scrolling lower in your contacts. You called John Winchester.

It rang a few times, and all the while you made silent, fervent prayers. Pick up, damn it! You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Winchester,” he answered.

“John, it’s me,” you whispered. “Azazel’s here. Or, he’s not here, here, but I know who he is. Well, I mean kind of—”

“Okay, wait. Slow down,” he said. “What about Azazel? You know who he is?”

“He’s Nick’s father,” you hissed. Trying to contain yourself and speak quietly was not easy. “I met him once at a company networking event, like a month after I got hired. Daniel Savage. He built Savage & Co. from the ground up. But he handed off the reigns to Nick years ago.”

It seemed to take John a moment to compute on that one, but he eventually replied.

“You’re at the office now?” John asked.

“Uh, yeah!” you replied testily. “I’m hiding out in a bathroom stall.”

“Okay, take it slow, all right?” he said. “You’re gonna go back to your office, calm. Like you didn’t just hear what you heard. You’re gonna take an early lunch, and you’re gonna come straight to the precinct for me. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

You took a deep breath to steady yourself as you nodded, even though he couldn’t see it.

“Okay. I need to call Dean,” you said.

“I’ll fill him in. Just focus on getting out of there,” John said.

You agreed, but you still felt shaky when you ended the call. No one had entered the bathroom, and it had been a few minutes already, so you chanced stepping out of the stall and into the hallway. That too was empty.

You sucked in another steadying breath. This time you went down the stairs to get back to your office. It felt unusually warm in the stairwell. Hot enough that you actually started to sweat on the way down to the 22nd floor.

Damn, did the AC break or something?

You made it back to your office, though when you opened the door, you were unable to be relieved. Nick sat in your chair at your desk. He gave you a smile.

“Good morning,” he said.

“You’re not supposed to be in here. Get out,” you snapped. You had no patience for another tête-à-tête with him today; especially after what you just saw.

And it hit you then. You were a witness.

You eyed Nick more warily. He had one of his gold golf clubs in his hand, and he leaned on it as he stood. He set up a putter’s stance next to your desk and hit a golf ball with a gentle swing. The ball rolled into your flat shoe.

“I want to go over that report you brought upstairs,” he said.

You shook your head and went cautiously over to your desk. Your purse was inside (you were kicking yourself for not taking it with you upstairs). Nick was too close to your desk for comfort, until he moved to retrieve his golf ball. It allowed you to move farther into the room.

“Anything you want to discuss can be done via email. Right now, I’m meeting a friend for lunch,” you lied. Your gaze was off the man for maybe a few seconds while you grabbed your purse from inside the desk. Another realization hit you in that moment.

How did he know it was me who brought the report?

By the time you looked up, Nick was shutting the door to your office. He tilted his head at you with a darker edge to his smile.

“You saw something you weren’t supposed to. Didn’t you, sweetheart?” he said.

You steeled yourself with a breath. You felt inside your purse, and your hand wrapped around your taser. You pulled it out and switched it on, pointing it towards him.

“Step away from the door or I’ll fry your ass,” you threatened. It lost its effect somewhat, with the way your hand was shaking, but it was a threat, nonetheless.

Nick raised his brows at you. He still had his golf club in hand. His movements were slow as he stepped away from the door, and closer towards you.

“Sure you know how to work that thing?” he teased with a shrug of his shoulders. “If I were you, I’d take a breath. Relax a bit. Come sit on my knee.”

That last bit was teasing, despite the way he eyed you, even now with a shade of desire. The kind that claimed and stole in its taking. It made you want to spit in his face.

“You’re a bastard,” you replied. “Turns out, the bastard apple doesn’t fall far from the bastard tree.”

“Watch it,” Nick warned. You saw the dangerous edge in his blue eyes. “That’s my dad you’re talking about.”

He swung the club at your head.

You managed to duck, yelping as it crashed into a lamp instead. You tried to run for the door, but that was when Nick grabbed you by the hair and nearly yanked the hairclip right out.

A short scream escaped your lips as you grabbed for his wrist. He shoved you hard into the wall, where you lost your footing and fell. Your head cracked against the accent table that once held the lamp, and your vision blurred on the way down. Glass crackled under your arm and bit into your cheek.

A strong hand grabbed you and hefted you up. You felt a trickle of wetness rolling down the side of your face as you stared up into his. It must’ve been blood, but all you could focus on was the satisfaction in Nick’s eyes. Finally, they seemed to say.

But then he paused. Confusion was written across his face.

“Do you smell smoke?” he asked. You both saw it climbing under the door of your office.

It was a distraction that broke you out of your frozen fear.

On pure instinct, you jabbed at Nick’s ribs with your taser. His hands fell away from you and he went down like an elephant, jolting and writhing on the ground. You gasped for breath above him while you realized what you’d just done. You tilted your head down at him.

No, you weren’t done.

You grabbed his golf club with your free hand. When he tried to reach for your ankle, you jammed the heavy club into his hand until he shouted in pain. For every moment of frustration, anxiety, and fear this man had caused you, you gave it back to him with one heavy swing of that club into his stomach. (And maybe one more for good measure.) 

He doubled over, groaning, coughing a bit of blood. You tossed the golf club and grabbed your purse with a shaking hand. You left him where he laid.

As soon as you open the door, however, you were pushed back by the cloud of incoming smoke. You coughed and squinted against it, but your eyes widened again when you realized what was happening.

The building was on fire.

For some reason the alarms weren’t going off, but it was clear to see what was in front of you. Smoke was clogging the halls. People were rushing out of their offices for the stairwell. You couldn’t help glancing back at Nick; he was slowly pulling himself to his feet.

Part of you knew he might not make it if you left him, but when he looked up at you, with pure hatred, your fear overrode any mercy that might’ve made you turn around.

So you fled for the stairwell behind the small crowd. There were flames making their way down along with the smoke. That was all right, because you all were running in the opposite direction.

You had to blink a drop of blood out of your eyes, and you raised a shaky hand to a cut above your brow, which was also tender to the touch. You were bleeding, clearly, but you couldn’t think about that right now. You were just trying your best not to get pushed or trampled while you hastened down several floors.

The signs pointed to Floor 10 when you felt a buzzing in your pocket. It was your phone, you realized. You were about to fish it out of your pocket, but you were forced to stop short on the stairs, along with everyone else. 

The flames were coming from the floor below as well, blocking your exit.

Once again, Dean frowned while checking his phone. You still hadn’t answered his text from an hour ago. Benny came to sit beside him on the couch in the firehouse common room.

“What’s got you spacin’ out?” Benny asked, noting his friend’s mood.

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But I’ve got a bad feeling, Benny.”

Benny’s brows furrowed. “Why, what’s wrong?”

Before Dean could answer, his phone rang in his hand. He perked up to answer it, until he realized it was his dad calling. He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hey, what’s up?” Dean greeted.

“Thanks to your girl, we know who Azazel is,” John said. “Daniel Savage. Nick is his son.”

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach; his shock was followed swiftly by worry.

“What? How’d she find that out?”

“She called me this morning. I told her to come straight to the precinct, but she’s not here yet. That was an hour ago,” John said gravely.

Dean’s eyes widened.

And then the alarm sounded overhead. Over the intercom the dispatcher reported a working fire at a commercial building. The address was the same as your work building: Savage & Co.

“Is that you?” John asked, once the intercom message was finished.

“Yeah,” Dean said. He was already up and out of the firehouse, getting his turnout gear on with the phone pressed to his ear. His heart was hammering in his chest, but his tone was rock steady.

“If she’s still in that building, I’m gonna find her.”

Firehouses 18 and 20 had already arrived by the time Firehouse 25 got to the scene of the Savage & Co. building. The flames were sky-high, consuming from the top and the bottom. Just by looking at it, Dean thought there had to have been at least two points of origin (where the fire was started). He doubted this was an accident.

“Okay, 25,” Chief Singer said to the entire Truck 79 and Rescue Squad crew. “House 20 got here first, so Chief Sanderson’s calling the shots. He requested our help in clearing the first five floors. Their crew is already on floors 30 through 20. House 18 has the middle.”

Dean went up to Bobby and spoke just loud enough for him to hear. He filled him in on what John had just told him about Azazel, and that you were most likely somewhere in the building.

“She’s in there, Chief. I have to find her,” Dean said.

Bobby saw the desperation in the younger man’s eyes, and he sympathized. “Have you tried calling her again?”

“She’s not answering,” Dean replied. “If he found out what she knows, he could be after her. That means she could be somewhere near the top.”

“Or she’s in the middle. Or she’s already out of the building,” Bobby reasoned. He quelled Dean’s protest with a raised hand. It then fell on the younger man’s shoulder. “I understand, son. But I’ve got a protocol to follow, and so do you, Lieutenant.”

Dean’s lips pressed together. He knew his rank and his responsibility, but you were in danger. You could already be hurt, or trapped, or…

Dean rounded up Truck 79 with swift, barking orders. After donning their helmets and masks, his and Benny’s team made their way inside. The first floor was wall to wall rolling flames. The heat was nearly overwhelming, like entering the gates of hell.

There was no moving safely through the first floor, so they had to move on to the closest stairwell and try to make it up to the second. Dean held Benny back for a moment.

“I’m going up! Stick with the guys,” Dean said. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the cacophony inside the stairwell.

Benny frowned. “What’re you doin’? You heard the Chief!”

Dean shook his head. He knew he was about to defy a direct order, but he couldn’t shake the gut feeling that you were still in the building somewhere.

“I’ve gotta find her,” he said.

“You think I don’t want to find Andréa?” Benny said. “She hasn’t answered my calls either. They could be anywhere, Dean!”

Dean clasped his friend’s shoulder. “You’re making my point, man.”

And he took off up the stairs before Benny could stop him.

“Damn it, Dean!” Benny shouted after him.

“Where’s he going?” Jack asked. He and Gordon were the only ones to hang back while the rest of their crew followed their orders and searched the second floor, not realizing that their Lieutenant was no longer with them.

“To go be an idiot,” Benny growled. But he wasted no more time. He followed Dean up the stairwell.

Gordon shared a quick look with Jack before he started his own climb up the stairs.

“You can follow protocol, or you can back up the Lieutenant,” Gordon called down.

In that moment, Jack made a decision. He followed Gordon and Benny.

You had to follow the rest of the crowd after you all couldn’t make it down the rest of the stairs safely. It landed you somewhere on the 10th floor, where the group scattered. Your head was aching, your heart pounded in your ears, and you didn’t know where to go.

You fled for the stairwell on the other side of the building, and in turning a corner, you smacked right into Andréa. You gasped when you caught hold of each other.

“Oh my God!” she cried, and she grabbed you into a hug. “Are you okay? Why’re you bleeding?”

“Catch up later,” you choked out. It was so hard to breathe; you were coughing every few moments.

She looked on you worriedly and let out a cough herself. “Come on.”

She pulled you along with her by the arm. You joined a smaller group that were heading for the opposite stairwell. Unfortunately, not all of you would make it there.

A piece of the weakened ceiling crumbled and fell in a fiery heap. Andréa had been just a couple steps in front of you, and it meant you saw it before she did. You pushed her forward so she would make it across. You were forced to stop short and protect your face from the embers.

You nearly tripped and fell back, but you used the wall to steady yourself. You looked up at the sound of Andréa calling your name. You found her terrified face. There was now a wall of fire separating you from her and the rest of the group.

“Keep going!” you coughed. “I’ll find another way.”

“No, I’m not leaving you!” she called back. She pushed away the man that tried to urge her on towards the stairwell.

“Go!” you shouted, even though it raked across your throat. You forced yourself to straighten up and turn away from her. The only chance you had was if there was a way around this hallway that still led to the stairs.

Oh shit, you gasped when you turned the corner. The fire was only getting worse. The building was being consumed, and you almost couldn’t see past a few feet in front of you with all the smoke. It stung in your eyes and clogged your throat.

You stumbled along until you found a room that you could escape into. It was another restroom. The fire hadn’t yet reached inside the women’s bathroom on this floor; maybe you could wait it out like you would a tornado.

Okay, clearly I’m fucking delirious, you thought. You huddled in a corner under the sink and tried and failed to take even breaths without coughing or panicking. You pulled out your phone with shaking hands and tried once again to call Dean. The reception was absolute shit in the entire building now.

It rang, and rang, and rang. Tears slipped down your cheeks.

But despite your dismayed thoughts, he actually answered.

“Hey! Baby, are you there?!”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You clutched at the phone. “Dean!”

You coughed, and you realized smoke was rising under the bathroom door now. The fire would spread here soon enough.

“Where are you? I’m here at your building!”

“Bathroom, 10th floor!” you managed to reply. “I couldn’t get out.”

“It’s okay. I’m coming right now,” he said. “Stay put for me.”

“Yeah,” you said, with a shaky breath. You couldn’t exactly leave. “Dean, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “Where’s…r—oom?”

He was glitching in and out. You gripped the phone tighter in panic. “Dean?”

“Can…ear m…”

“Dean!” Your tears fell anew. You had another reason to struggle for breath as you tried to reach him.

You slid out from under the sink to try and get better reception, but it was no use. The call failed.

“Shit!” You nearly tossed your cell across the room out of sheer frustration.

Then you paced back and forth, trying to think of what to do. Should you leave your momentary shelter to go and find him, or would that just run the risk of him never finding you.

You didn’t know. You didn’t know what to do.

God, I’m so fucking screwed…

You slumped against the wall and tried to stifle your coughing, all while you also tried (and failed) to form some kind of a plan.

Until the bathroom door bursting open startled a scream out of you. Was the fire coming in?!

The move did allow more smoke to infiltrate the bathroom, but instead of the fire, you saw a firefighter in all his gear. This time, it did include the helmet.

“Fire Department!” he called out.

You would know that voice anywhere. And even through the mask, you recognized the man’s eyes when he went to you.

“Dean,” you sobbed. It was halted only by a series of lung-wracking coughs and wheezing. He quickly took his helmet and mask off so he could fit the mask over your soot-covered face.

“It’s okay, deep breaths. I gotcha, baby, just breathe,” Dean encouraged. His arm was around your waist, holding you close while the oxygen finally allowed you to take in slower breaths and relax against him.

“Okay, let’s get out of here, huh?” he said. He put his helmet back on.

You grabbed the front of his jacket. “Don’t you need the mask?”

You were still having trouble breathing, coughing on every other word. Dean shook his head.

“You need it more right now,” he said.

You realized that Benny was holding the bathroom door open.

“We gotta go!” he said.

“Benny, Andréa was here,” you said. His eyes widened behind his mask. “She got out, I think. She made it to the west stairwell.”

“Okay, yeah, because no one’s getting out the east wing,” Gordon said. You noted him standing just behind Benny, with Jack in tow.

“There’s a block,” you said, pointing just ahead where you saw the pile of debris. More parts of the ceiling had crumbled around it, making it a fiery minefield. There was no other way around it at this point—only through it.

Gordon and Jack went through first, followed by Benny. With their jackets and protective gear, they were able to jump through like a flaming hoop. And they would be able to help catch you and Dean from the other side.

“Okay, you ready?” Dean asked.

“If I say no?” you said, holding onto him tighter. His hand soothed over your hair. You’d lost your clip a long time ago (along with your purse), so your hair was probably wild and frizzy and covered in soot, along with the rest of you.

Dean grinned down at you. “Then I’d say, don’t you worry. I’m not gonna let you fall.”

Even now, through your fear, he could make you smile. You steeled yourself and took a breath. You could hear it so clearly with the mask on. That, and your own heartbeat.

He counted down to three, and on the last beat, Dean covered your head and shoulders and ran with you under the flame-covered ceiling. He managed to help you jump over the fiery debris on the ground. On both of your heavy landings, a wooden support beam fell.

There was a shout from Benny, but it was too late. All Dean could do was cover you. The beam broke over his back and knocked his helmet clean off. He took you with him when he fell.

Your scream rang out—half at the fall, but mostly for Dean. It was Benny who dragged you and Dean out first. Gordon and Jack took over hefting an unconscious Dean, while Benny hauled you up onto your feet and led you to the west stairwell.

You passed out just as you felt fresh air hit the mask.

You woke to bright, fluorescent lighting that made you wince. An oxygen mask covered your mouth and nose and was strapped around your head. You made a sound of discomfort and tried to take it off, but a hand stilled yours.

“Don’t.”

Eileen’s concerned face came into view. You were confused, though happy to see her.

“You’re in the hospital,” she said. When you tried to speak, she held up a finger to you. Wait, said her eyes.

She took out her phone from her jean pocket to text someone.

“Sam is coming,” she told you, before she drew closer to sooth a hand up and down your arm. You felt tears in your eyes at just that small comfort.

They fell in earnest when Sam entered your hospital room. His eyes held the concern of a friend and a brother as he approached on your other side.

“Hey, how do you feel?” he asked, laying a hand on your shoulder.

You wheezed a breath and rasped, “Water.”

Sam nodded and grabbed you a plastic cup filled with cold water. It felt like literal heaven once the mask was off and you were able to drink. He helped you while Eileen held the mask away from your face.

After you’d had all you could drink, he took the cup and Eileen placed the mask back over your face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked, after clearing your throat. You still sounded like a chain smoker, and your head was pounding. “Is he okay?”

“He’s stable,” Sam said, with a sigh. But when he didn’t offer anything more, you raised expectant brows at him.

“What else?” you said. Your tone told him not to skimp on any more details.

Sam’s gaze met yours. “The beam burned through his jacket, on his back. It hit his head. They…had to perform a minor surgery to relieve the pressure in his brain, but he’s stable in recovery now.”

He was quick to add on that last bit when you began to crumble. Eileen encouraged you to breathe through your tears. The oxygen could only do half the battle if you didn’t breathe properly.

“I want to see him,” you said.

Sam frowned and held up a placating hand. “I don’t think that’s—”

You ignored him and tried to sit up. With or without his approval, you were getting out of this bed.

“Okay, you’re not listening,” Sam sighed, though he immediately went to help you. He shot Eileen an imploring look over your head.

She got the hint and helped you on her side. Together they helped you stand while you removed the mask, then the heart monitor and other wires taped to your torso.

The Emergency Department team had left your pants on, thank goodness, but they’d clipped through your blouse and bra. So the paper gown was mostly to cover your top half like a light blue poncho. It was a bit airy in the back, but Eileen held it closed for you. Right now, you didn’t care much about your modesty. You were also walking around the hospital barefooted.

At least Dean was on the same floor. It was just a long walk down the hall.

“Can you call Benny and ask how Andréa’s doing?” you asked, coughing a bit.

Sam eyed you in thinly veiled concern, but he agreed. The last he’d heard from Benny was that Andréa had been cleared by the paramedics with minor smoke inhalation. You were clearly worse.

Sam held you upright when you finally saw Dean. He had to guide you into a chair beside Dean’s bed, where he slept on his side. On his back was a large stretch of white gauze across his upper back, from nearly shoulder to side at an angle.

“The doctor said they’re only second-degree burns. It looks worse than it is,” Sam said quietly.

Eileen rubbed your back in the hopes that you’d stop crying.

You could only focus on the gauze, the smaller nicks and burns around Dean’s face, the bandage and thick gauze near his temple where they’d apparently had to drill into his skull. He also wore an oxygen mask, because if all that wasn’t enough, you were sure “smoke inhalation” was on the list, thanks to the way he’d given you his SCBA mask.

Gently, very gently, you took his hand. Your thumb swept over the back of it, over each knuckle.

“Did they say when he’d wake up?” you asked. You rubbed at your aching stomach. Does smoke inhalation cause nausea too?

Your chest was also tight. You’d head back to your room sooner or later and get the oxygen mask back on.

Before Sam could reply, you heard a groan below. You looked down at Dean with wide-eyed hope. It took a moment, but his eyes slid open. They were unfocused and dark, until they found your face.

You smiled tearfully. “Hey, baby.”

Your free hand caressed his cheek. His eyes briefly closed at your touch. When he realized you were holding his hand, he squeezed a bit. That was enough for you.

Just then, however, you had to let go of his hand. Whatever was left in your stomach from this morning seemed to be revolting. You turned your head quick to throw up onto the hospital floor.

Both Sam and Eileen called your name when you slid out of your chair and onto the floor. You blinked tears out of your eyes…or actually, it was black spots encroaching on your vision.

Sam pushed the chair out of his way to get to you. He gathered you into his arms and shouted for a doctor while Eileen went for the emergency button on Dean’s hospital bed.

The last thing you saw was Dean’s worried face out of the corner of your eye, before the blackness took you.

Dean could barely speak behind his oxygen mask, but Sam saw his worry as the nurses carried you away in a stretcher with Eileen following close behind. Sam crouched in front of his brother and clasped his hand.

“She’ll be okay, I promise. I’m gonna look out for both of you,” Sam said. “Right now, you need to sleep.”

Dean’s brows furrowed. In that small gesture, Sam also saw his stubbornness. He almost smiled. You and Dean were a match made.

“Just rest, Dean. I’m going now to check on her, but not until you close your eyes,” Sam said. It took another stubborn minute, but Dean eventually relaxed as well as he was able. His eyes closed as he fell back under the pull of medication and painkillers.

“How’s he doing?” came the voice of their father in the doorway. Sam’s expression morphed from gentle to austere. His head turned towards his father.

“How does he look like he’s doing?” Sam asked. “He had a burning ceiling fall on him. He has the mother of all concussions, and he just saw his girlfriend collapse.”

John was quiet, in contrast to his youngest son’s ire. He stepped into the room and watched his eldest. Sam saw the man’s age in the lines around his eyes, in his slow gait when he raised a gentle hand to comb through Dean’s greasy hair, mindful of his injuries.

“This shouldn’t have fucking happened,” said John. His voice was tired and gruff. Sam knew what the weight of guilt looked like, but what he didn’t yet see was regret. If John hadn’t kept digging, digging, Azazel wouldn’t have taken it this far.

Okay, Sam didn’t yet have proof that Azazel burned down the Savage & Co. building…but he didn’t believe in coincidences.

“No,” Sam said. “It shouldn’t have.”

“What the fuck was that?!” Nick shouted.

He was still dusted with soot and sporting some cracked ribs from the day’s activities. He’d stumbled into his father’s house, taken a bottle of bourbon from the man’s shelf and started drinking straight from the crystal glass.

Daniel eyed him coolly from the balcony, smoking a cigar. “Whatever do you mean, son?”

Nick was furious. He stomped over, not caring how expensive liquor was splashing on him.

“Why’d you burn the whole damn building?” he demanded to know. “I could’ve died!”

“Alistair got you out, didn’t he?” Daniel pointed towards his son with the hand that held his cigar. “See, unlike you, I think ahead.”

“I’m serious,” Nick hissed. “Our company is still important—”

“My company,” Daniel interjected, “is not that building. However, the building itself was a liability.”

Nick’s brows knit together in confusion and anger. “What the hell’re you talking about?”

Daniel took a long drag of his cigar, puffing in Nick’s face. The latter coughed. As if he hadn’t had enough smoke in his lungs today.

“Don’t you see?” Daniel asked, with a sigh that also said he wondered how he could’ve produced such a moron. “It puts distance between you and ‘Azazel’ if you’re also a victim of his threats. It destroys any physical evidence of me having been there, along with any files you would’ve eventually had to turn over to the police and the FBI.”

Nick let that idea sink into his brain. He realized that it did make sense…but he deflated as something else occurred to him.

“Uh…see, that would’ve worked, but, we have a problem,” Nick scratched his head. “Someone knows who you really are.”

By the time Nick finished explaining about you, and what you’d overheard, Daniel’s sharp gaze managed to strike fear into Nick’s heart.

Yet to his surprise, the other man’s temper didn’t blow. Daniel kept it all inside as he continued to smoke. Cigars tended to pacify him better than cigarettes.

His lips twitched at a humorless smile. “Well, that is a problem.”

“But she probably died in the fire, so we’re good,” Nick shrugged.

“No, I doubt she did,” Daniel sighed. “You’re not that lucky.”

He rolled his shoulders. Then he grabbed Nick’s arm and twisted, until his was crying out and pinned to the nearest wall. Daniel threatened to put out his cigar in the soft underbelly of the arm he held.

Nick looked up at his father with wide, pleading eyes.

“Like everything else, that girl is a problem I’m going to fix,” Daniel said. “Along with the whole Winchester brood.” 

AN: 🫣 Don't hate me lol. It gets better for them, I promise. But we have a few more chapters left to go and a few more twists in store!

Next Time:

The first time Dean was awake for longer than a few minutes, he asked about you.

Sam wasn’t surprised. He was frankly relieved that he had an answer for his brother.

Keep Reading: PART 17

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Concerning Habits

Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader, Castiel x teen!reader (platonic obviously)

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re too embarrassed to share one of your habits with your brothers.

“Would you stop moving around back there?” Your oldest brother Dean demanded. “You’re shaking the whole car, just go to sleep.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do,” you grumbled, changing positions again as you struggled to grasp onto the sleep that’d been evading you for the past hour.

“Since when are you such an insomniac anyway?” Sam asked absentmindedly from the passengers seat, where he was pouring over one of the Men of Letters books.

“I don’t know,” you lied. You knew exactly why you’d been tossing and turning for the past hour, but you’d rather throw yourself out of the Impala then tell your brothers why.

Truthfully, it was kind of stupid. When you’d packed your bag to come on the hunt with your brothers, you’d forgotten to pack Jasper, the teddy bear you’d had almost since birth. You hated that you couldn’t get to sleep without him, but you’d tried before and it never worked. It was a little comfort in a world where comfort was few and far between.

You were sure that there were two reasons that you needed him to sleep. The first was more of a tangible reason; you’d gotten used to holding something every night for your whole life, so to be without it threw you off. The other reason was more personal; having that bear was like having a reminder of your whole family with you. Your mother had bought it for you, John had sewed an eyepatch on his face when one of his little plastic eyes fell off, and Sam and Dean had sewed up rips and tears in the thing countless times. Without him, you felt…alone. Like the little pieces of your family that you were desperate to remember were gone.

Of course, this was way too much to dump on Sam and Dean, who were just trying to enjoy a peaceful drive. So, you gave up on your useless attempts at sleep, and instead grabbed your headphones and turned on one of your playlists. You made sure to keep your phone under the small blanket over you, not wanting to alert Sam and Dean to your restlessness.

“Wake me when it’s my turn to drive,” Sam told Dean, and you couldn’t help but be jealous at the way he fell asleep almost immediately.

Four hours later, you had exhausted both your body and your playlist, yet still sleep wouldn’t come. There was still over six hours left in the drive, and you were sure that you were going to go insane.

When the Impala pulled over and Dean and Sam switched seats, you noticed Sam staring at you.

“Why are you awake?” He asked. Dean glanced back to look at you.

“I…” you didn’t have a good answer, so you didn’t.

“Did you sleep at all?” Dean asked, and when you ignored this too, he began to look alarmed. “Alright, what’s up? You need to sleep.”

“I’m trying,” your voice came out in a mumble.

“For the past four hours?” Sam didn’t sound convinced. “You’re either trying too hard, or not hard enough.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “You looked half dead when we left for this trip, I thought you’d be out in five minutes flat.”

“I just…I left something at the bunker,” you slowly sat up, giving up on even your fake sleep. “And I need it.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Dean demanded. “If you need it-“

“I didn’t realize until it was too late,” you sighed. “And-and I don’t need need it.”

“What’d you forget?” Sam asked, confused.

When you didn’t answer, Dean turned in his seat to face you.

“Kid? C’mon, talk to me, is it like medication or something? I might have some sleeping pills with me.”

You shook your head, feeling dumber than ever.

“Not-not pills, just…” you lowered your eyes, resisting the urge to hide under your blanket. “Just something that helps me sleep.”

“How about this,” Sam sighed, trying to stall Dean’s rising frustration. “How about I call Cas, and he can get it for you?”

“I don’t wanna bother Cas,” you said quietly.

“Hey Cas,” you flinched in surprise at Dean’s sudden outburst. “We’re on I94, mile marker…78, and we could use some hel-“ Dean stopped talking when Cas appeared suddenly next to you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ask her,” Dean gestured at you, and you felt your face heat up, your ears turning pink. It would’ve been embarrassing enough for your brothers to find out about Jasper, but an actual angel?

“Dean-“

“We’re gonna be on this hunt for days, I’m not about to let you just not sleep for days, so tell the angel what you need and get it over with.”

“You want me to help you sleep?” Cas asked, trying to understand why he’d been summoned.

“No, it’s just…I-I left something at home, and I need it to sleep, and since you can like, teleport…” your voice trailed off when you saw realization light up Cas’s face.

“Alright, what is it you want me to get?”

“It’s…” you couldn’t admit it, you just couldn’t. You tried to skirt around the answer. “It’s in my room…”

“You might have to be more specific,” Cas said slowly, his brows drawn together.

“It’s a bear, ok? A stuffed animal bear, and it’s on my bed,” you’d given up completely on both your attempts to keep the truth from them and any inclination to look at anyone in the car. You’d buried your head in the blanket that you held in your hands, and didn’t look up even when you heard the gentle whoosh of Castiel leaving.

“Kid, you ok?” Sam asked softly, to which you merely nodded.

“Here you go.”

At the sound of Cas’s voice, you finally looked up to see him holding Jasper out to you.

“I don’t understand. You seem distressed,” Castiel observed as you pulled Jasper into your arms.

“I’m not distressed, I’m embarrassed,” you huffed. “It’s…it’s just so stupid.”

“I’ve observed that many humans have sentimental attachments to objects, I don’t understand why this is different,” Castiel cocked his head.

“Stuffed animals are for kids,” you mumbled.

“So?” Dean’s voice from the front seat surprised you.

“So? You don’t think it’s stupid?”

“Kid, we all have our…” Dean searched for a word. “Quirks. And considering some of the issues me and Sammy have had,” his wry smile made you relax slightly, “I think ‘needing a stuffed animal’ is pretty low on our Concerning Habits list.”

“You really don’t think it’s that dumb?” You asked.

“Honestly, it’s below Sam’s haircut on my list of weird things in our family. Far below,” Dean scoffed, and you felt yourself relax completely.

“Ok, enough,” you grinned at the sound of Sam’s grumpy tone. “Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?”

You finally settled down in your seat, smiling at Cas and thanking him quietly. Once he vanished, you stretched out completely in the back seat, and within minutes you were fast asleep, your bear tucked tightly under your arm.

Because you fell asleep so quickly, you missed the way Dean turned in his chair to smile at you, and the whispered conversation he shared with Sam.

“You know, that kid is adorable.”

Sam laughed softly, glancing back at you before turning back to focus on the road.

“Yeah, I know.”

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Halo

Author: Gwenwifar

Artist: verobatto

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Dean/Cas

Sam/Eileen

Length: 22300

Warnings: Apparent major character death (character does not die)

Tags: Canon divergent, protective Cas, protective Dean, Castiel’s true form, BAMF Dean, dream walking, pagan rituals, very questionable history of pagan ritual,

Posting Date: October 8, 2024

Summary: As a last resort, an angel can choose to give a human their halo to protect them from harm. That's not in any of the lore. Neither is the fact that without their halo, an angel cannot hold a vessel. Now that that's established, all Dean has to do is figure out how to get Cas back, while he works out who he even is anymore, now that he's not quite fully human.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

Excerpt: He’d fallen asleep. 

It must have been close to a year since the last time he’d done that. He hadn’t meant to. He’d only meant to close his eyes to the glare of all that light bouncing off the snow. It didn’t hurt. Nothing ever really hurt anymore. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt pain. At least of the physical kind. He could still feel tired, though. Exertion didn’t have to slow him down, but he felt it. It was reassuring. It made him feel - human. 

Which was why he’d started pushing himself. He wanted to know his limits, but mostly, he needed to feel tired muscles from time to time, reminding him that he was not, in fact, so far removed from who he had been. That however strong he might be now, however long he could go without food or rest, his muscles could still strain, would still go rubbery and unsteady after a while. He’d never imagined he’d long to feel weak, but here he was, making his way up Denali just to feel the burn. 

He hadn’t even stopped for gear, or waited for climbing season. He’d just - made sure Baby was parked in a safe place, and started walking up the mountain. He started feeling it after a couple of hours. The change in the air made his muscles strain, but they kept responding and he kept climbing. He wasn’t tired enough yet.

It was the light that finally made him stop. He had more or less just meandered up the nearest face of the mountain, going wherever his feet could get a solid hold, and he’d found himself coming out of the shadow of the mountain to blinding light, bouncing at him from every direction. He couldn’t see where he was going. He took a few steps anyway, felt himself slide as the snow gave way under his boots, and for the first time in a long time he felt - afraid. Carefully, he crouched down, felt for some kind of solid surface, and settled onto some kind of a ledge.  

It was probably habit more than anything that caused him to fall asleep. He was tired, and the ledge was warm (or warmer than the snow, in any case), and his eyes were closed. Drifting off must have been something akin to muscle memory.

The glare of the snow was replaced by a wide strip of light bouncing off the surface of a lake. He knew this place. He’d been here before. It was... peaceful.

[evvyyypeters-fics]

Freak Like Me

Jimmy Darling x felinehybrid!f!reader

Warnings! Angst, harassment, female violence, abuse/ CA, fluff ending, lil cringe maybe

Reupload of the request by @jazz-berry

“Mommy! Look at her!” Chirped the small child observing me like a zoo animal, a pure smile on her face as she pointed.

“Don’t look sweetie!” Hissed her mother, yanking her on the arm as she dragged her past me. Her glaring eyes darted between her enamored child and my face. I could tell the difference in the scorn between me and her child, even if I couldn’t prove it.

It's been 3 years since I’d been accepted into the Freak Show, the glares and scornful looks becoming custom to me over the course of my life. I was born a freak, just like everyone else. Everyday came new insults and reactions, and I never got used to any of them. But I learned to tolerate it. To ignore it and keep a smile, or a straight face. Everyone in the Freak Show was always supportive of me, comforting me and giving me a place that finally feels like home. But no one was a bigger comfort to me than Jimmy Darling.

Like me, he had an obvious malformation that needed to be hidden in public to be seen as ‘normal’ in society. He was one of the few people now in my life who I felt I could lean on the most. I felt he always had my back, and in return I had his. I’d had a crush on Jimmy for ages, his generous behavior and bold, friendly personality struck a chord in my heart. His love and protection for the other freaks, the ones who couldn’t fend for themselves as well, he beat the drum of my heart creating a stead-fast rhythm. As well as that cheeky smirk he dawned.

When I first met Jimmy, I expected him to make fun of me just like the other people in my life. He seemed like just the right asshole with his charms, flirts and overall charisma. Instead, he had this soft look in his eyes, something tender and special. I think we truly saw something in each other, a kinship. I was born genetically altered during an experiment orchestrated by the now asylum doctor, Dr. Arden. His sick experiments trying to create human abominations. And I was no exception.

He believed that with the agility and resilience of a cat, if he mixed feline and human DNA he could create a modified human with extreme agile abilities, hearing, smell and sense. His experiment ‘failed’ when I came out with only the behaviors of a domestic house cat and a set of cat-like ears and a matching tail. He kept me prisoner as a pet until I was 12, I was lucky to live that long with him as he originally planned to kill me, but couldn’t bring himself to do it as I was the only one of his experiments that didn’t turn rabid or died. I eventually escaped when I was 13, becoming homeless. The cups I held for money being spat into instead of just being ignored like the others.

Sometimes people would see me and instantly begin beating me up, leaving me wounded in the bushes. But it seems that cats must really have nine lives, because I lived to meet Elsa, who found me alone and battered in a ditch. Where she invited me to join her Freak Show. Where I met Jimmy, with his clawed hands.

A Lobster and a cat was quite an ironic pairing. Jimmy still liked to tease me from time to time, holding fish out in his hand and swinging it like bait as if I was dying to pounce on it. I’d just glare and cross my arms like I was tired of his foolish endeavors even though I quite enjoyed his little quips.

It was Saturday, a perfect night for the Freak Show. Elsa had managed to save the show for now with a few more acts added to the set, and a few new freaks added to the cast. I was included at the time. Our best show had 50 people show up, and our usual crowd is almost 20. Which is enough to get us all by for a while. Our balance usually runs out by the end of the month, but with consistent show times, it was a stable income.

Today I was asked to do fortune telling in place of Maggie, who (not so) unfortunately died in a freak accident. She was a fraud and ex-lover of Jimmy Darling, so a part of me didn’t feel much sympathy for her. I hadn’t known Maggie during either of our times at the Freak Show together, but I don’t miss her presence regardless. I just hated having been put with her job, feeling like a fraud myself. But Elsa insisted that fortune telling was quite popular, and with my cat-like features it was even easier to market.

I spent the whole night giving vague fortunes to anyone of any age. I mainly had children who were curiously fascinated by the flick of my tail and twitch of my ears. I spent more time answering their questions than telling their fortunes, which was sort of a win for me. I let some of the, granted less-greasy, children brush my tail for a moment before they shrieked and scurried back to their mothers like a flock of chicks.

In the corner of my eye I notice a dark figure standing in the distance through the open tent curtains, it’s tall and dons what I could only make out as a bowler hat and a long trench coat. When I squint my eyes to take a closer look, the figure is gone seemingly, as if I had just imagined it. It was getting late, and I felt sleep washing over me, but I hadn’t realized how tired I must have been until now. Imagining dark figures in the distance was quite unusual behavior for me.

I had begun to pack up the tent when I heard the soft swish of the curtains dropping, seeing the hazy moonlight disappearing in the enclosed makeshift room, illuminating only with the small candles and oil lamps dawning around the furniture to make it more moody. I quickly whip my head around behind me to gauge who just came in.

“Sorry, I’m closing up.” I said calmly, trying not to sound frightened, but I knew it must have been obvious anyways, my tail and ears always gave away my true emotions. Not to mention the bug-eyed look most likely plastered over my face.

I didn’t relax any further though when I saw a tall man standing there, he donned a brown bowler hat and a matching long trench coat. His hands tucked leisurely in his pockets. I noticed a small scruffy pre-shave beard on his chin, despite the tilt of his head under his hat hiding his gaze from me.

“Can I help you?” I ask, eventually turning my body to face him, getting in a stance ready to fight or run if I had to.

He raised his head and I could see the glimmer of his brown eyes, a deep droop in his lids and a small mustache upon his lip. He smirks amusedly at me.

“Yes, you can.” He says in a low, smooth voice. He was quite an attractive man, I had to admit. But there was something wrong about him, and I couldn’t place my finger on it yet.

That was until he took some steps forward and began to entice me with his words.

“What’s such a pretty feline like you doing here? When you could do so much more…you’re beautiful. You could be a model.” He smiles at me, like it was meant to be pleasant, but it only sent shivers down my spine.

I went into a defensive stance as I began to back away from him, but he only got closer, easily cornering me. I felt like an idiot for doing that, but I had no other choice. My breath began to shorten in my chest, coming out as sharp inhales, my heart fluttering like a hummingbird in my chest and pounding through my ears. I was getting dizzy with panic.

“Don’t be afraid, darling.” The man coos menacingly as my ears begin to flatten to my head. My words choked in my throat as I scream and thrash in my head, only coming out as burning tears in my eyes.

“Say….” He trails, glancing at my tail with a smirk. I freeze in place from his gaze and yelp painfully when he pulls at my tail.

“So, it is real.” He scoffs delightfully as if he almost didn’t believe it despite the clear movement.

“My…what a beautiful specimen you are, indeed…” He says slowly, taking his time with each syllable like a long breath. He reaches out for my hair and squishes it between his fingers, a new sort of mischievous grin on his face. One that is dark and disturbing and makes my hair stand up.

He starts to move his fingers to tuck my hair back behind my ear, but suddenly the curtains of the tent fly open and I see a familiar figure standing in the doorway with a look of sheer shock and surprise on his face that quickly turns into rage as he drops everything in his hands and storms over to the man. They’re almost the same height, so Jimmy easily grabs his shoulder to turn him and knocks a fair punch in his face. His deformed hand created what I assumed was probably a harsher blow than average.

The man instantly dropped to the ground, holding his now surely broken nose in his hand as blood seeped through his fingers like a river. He lifts his head to Jimmy and they just stare at each other for a split second before the man silently gets up and sprints away. Jimmy watches him run, practically huffing with anger before turning to me, his demeanor shifts and his breathing calms as he gives me a soft gaze.

“Are you ok?” He asks in a concerned, gentle tone. He doesn’t even let me answer before he swings his arm protectively over me and begins to lead me out of the tent and to his caravan.

“C’mon sweetheart.” He beckons, as if I wouldn’t follow him to the ends of the Earth no matter where we were.

As soon as he closes the door to the caravan behind us, the welled up sobs begin to climb out of my throat, thick and hot tears rolling down my cheeks. Jimmy instantly looks concerned and wraps me in a tight hug, resting his chin on the top of my head as his large hands rub my back soothingly.

“There, there.” He says comfortingly as he lets all the emotions built up inside of me through the day wash over and spill. Holding me tight to his chest so I could hear the calm, melodic drum of his heart, beating lovingly for me.

The sound itself begins to soothe me, along with his tender massages of my back and eventually the storm of tears subsides. He removes his chin from the top of my head and loosens his hold a bit as he points his face towards me and gauges my expression.

“Feeling better?” He asks with a soft chuckle, a gentle smile painted on his face that swelled in my heart.

I nodded silently and threw myself into another tight hug where he began to pat my head.

“Jimmy…” I said, my words muffled by the clothes on his chest.

“Yes, Darlin’” He replied, our cheeky little inside joke.

“Can we cuddle?” I ask, my cheeks becoming a soft pink when asking, slightly embarrassed at the request. I didn’t know how he would answer, we didn’t have the cuddly kind of relationship. At least, not in my eyes.

To my surprise I feel him shift, a soft nod. “Of course.” He rings out in a soft voice and I felt as if my heart could have almost exploded from how hard it started pounding in my chest. A feverish pattering that rushed through my whole body with a light weight feeling.

Without another word we both stood in silence, unsure of what to do, before Jimmy started slowly leading us both to his bed in a slow walk. He sat down gently on the mattress first before scooting back and letting me crawl forwards over him, nuzzling snuggly into the crevice of his arm and resting my head on his chest. I was soothed again by the subtle rise and fall of his breaths, hearing again the rhythm drumming of his heart in my ear.

He strokes my hair gently with his fused fingers, petting the top of my head like a true house cat. A strange hum began to pull from my throat as he continued to stroke my head and ears, his other hand wrapping around my back and rubbing it in slow motions up and down my spine.

“Are you purring?” He chuckled sweetly when he noticed the low sound.

“N-No!” I blurt out, shy and confused.

“I didn’t even know you could do that.” He says, smiling and resting his head back down on the pillow.

“Me neither…” I mumbled, and he lifted a curious brow, dropping it and letting it go.

Despite the strange reaction he pulled from me with the massages, he continued petting me, each rub and stroke becoming stronger and more deliberate. I felt the urge to continue the favor, my fists kneading into his chest with hesitant nudges. He smiled silently to himself when he felt the soft press of my knuckles rolling against his shirt. My eyes gently closed, eyelashes splayed over my pink cheeks.

Lulled to sleep in his arms, we both fell asleep together that night, waking up in each other’s arms and sharing a comforting smile together. Things were surely going to be different around here now.

Taglist (you can be added or removed at any time):

@fear-is-truth @xkaisxjazzxsingerx @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @marchsfreakshow @colinzabelswife @dearlizzies @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @xrag-dollx @lacucarachapisser @alittleobsessedbitch

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Digging For Gold

From: You Catch More Bees With Honey Series

Pairing: Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn’t always have to personally negotiate his business dealings, but what happens when one of them insists they’ll only deal with him? He heads out to the country to get it sorted, of course.

Word Count: 2,167

Content/Warnings: light mob themes, mentions of misogyny/ Bucky’s attempt at it, fem reader with minimal descriptions, minimal use of y/n, use of a pet name (Honey), Sam and Steve teasing Bucky and Bucky having none of it. Content below the cut.

Author’s Note: Well here it is— my first fic publication! I literally never write, but I’ve felt so motivated to get this down. Idek how I wrote this many words bc lord knows I’m not doing the same for school. Anyway, I digress. I hope you all enjoy. Comments, suggestions, asks, and reblogs are soooo appreciated!! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

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Bucky was used to being turned down at first. In the fact, he was used to being turned down two, three, four times before getting his way. He always got his way, until it came to you. He had been trying to seal this deal for what was going on months now. Usually by his fifth ask, his clients got some sense into them, and in this case, sense means a threat of lead through the heart by a henchman. But that hadn’t phased you at all. If anything, it encouraged you to keep pushing back. A real piece of work, this girl was. Each time someone went to negotiate, they came back with their head hung low, sending in their boss to deal with her next as she had requested. Just for that cocky bastard to leave and come back doing the same. Why were they giving into your requests? They couldn’t help themselves when you had that convincing way about you, and neither could Bucky, even if he wanted to deny it to everyone around him. After months of asking for the next boss, you had finally reached James Buchanan Barnes: the head of his mob. Known for his ruthless nature, no one had ever come out of a deal saying ‘no’ to him. If they said no, they didn’t come out of the deal, simple as that. No one had seen his soft spots, and his buttons weren’t to be pushed. Too many had found out the hard way. The only one who could get away with it was his best friend who had known him since childhood Steve. More like a brother, and his only family left, at that. But it looked like he had a soft spot for you, letting you get away with dismissing these meetings, which is exactly why he needed to go himself: to show he wasn’t soft. To show that he could close the deal and his men lacked discipline when they fell to your kind charm. He’d go to this meeting and then wash his hands of the issue, making the deal he decided he had wanted months ago. He got into the back of his black town car and shut the door, directing the driver to start the long journey to the farm.

As he sat in the car, he wondered why the partition was up, as he heard singing faintly coming from the other side. He pushed the button for it to come down, to be greeted by a familiar pair of blue eyes that belonged to his best friend Steve and the back of Sam’s head.

“Oh heyyy boss. Fancy seeing you here,” Sam said keeping his eyes on the road and turning down the radio.

“Where’s Gio?” Bucky barked back.

“Oh calm down. He’s home relaxing with his family. Sam and I gave him the day off. Figured you’d need our help,” Steve said with a small shrug.

Bucky grumbled to himself something about being the boss while Steve and Sam exchanged a quick glance in the front seat before Sam spoke up again.

“Listen Boss, she’s already been through both of us. Obviously we can’t tell you how to succeed, but we can tell you what to expect going in there.”

“Plus we can remind you what we’re really here for and give you back-up none of us had the luxury of” Steve interjected, “the fact that you’ve waited this long shows you’ve got a soft spot for her, and we can’t afford to push this deal back any farther.”

Bucky knew that. He knew it was coming down to the wire “First off, I do not have a soft spot. Not since I was little, and you know that. I’d have anyone else’s head for even thinking such a thing. And second, if it’s so easy, why couldn’t you two have sealed this deal last month when you went, then? Huh?”

At that, Steve snapped his mouth shut and Sam kept his head forward, not daring to glance back at the mob boss whose jaw was clenched with anticipation.

“That’s what I thought. But go ahead, speak now or forever hold your peace, because when I go in there, I need to come out with a deal.”

He’d never let anyone besides his right-hand and number three men know how on edge he was for this meeting. He looked out the window hoping for the best and that his hard outer persona wouldn’t crack today as Sam and Steve started with their briefing.

When Sam pulled off of the pavement and onto the dirt driveway, Bucky’s eyes absorbed the rolling hills and abundant trees. It was beautiful, but nothing like his city. He enjoyed the tight spaces and routine rigidity of concrete. This was a different world. Her land was sprawling, far further than the crop fields sat. Acres for the cattle to graze and others that laid fallow. It was built over old mines. That’s why he wanted it all: for the tunnels. It would be so much easier to store and move his product, cutting transportation time and having discreet underground facilities if he could just strike a deal, but he’d finally met his match without even meeting her yet. A woman just as stubborn as him, but opposite in every other way.

Sam pulled up in front of a beautiful farm house. Modest, but chic and well cared for. Leaning against one of the posts that framed the front porch was her. Hair hidden under a cowgirl hat, well worn from work-filled days and in a flannel shirt, jeans, and boots showing even more mileage than the hat. Bucky looked out the window and let out a deep breath.

“Wish me luck, boys”

They both just nodded. A more than sufficient acknowledgment in their line of work. Bucky opened the car door and his red bottoms crunched the rocks beneath his feet as he sauntered over to her.

“Ms. Y/L/N. This has been a long time coming.”

“Indeed it has. Good to see you Mr. Barnes. And please, call me Y/N.” Her voice twanged.

Then she flashed him that smile, ugh how he hated that. She wasn’t even trying, but it made him feel an odd warmth that started deep in his chest. One that almost made it seem like it made his heart melt a little. A heart that was stuck in an ice age for as long as he could remember. Still, he couldn’t budge. He had to set an example for his men. How could he push an agenda he couldn’t fulfill? His thoughts continued to race as he stepped up to the bottom of the wooden steps leading to the porch. Not a good start with her literally having the high ground.

“Do your drivers want to come in? I don’t mind gettin’ them some refreshments while we chat.” She offered kindly. How was she so smooth? Bucky glanced back and Steve and Sam gawked at you though Steve’s window. Bucky made a mental note to have that tinted more so no one could see them embarrassing him and themselves in the future.

“No. They’re fine.” Bucky coldly, borderline spat back. “And you can call me by my name, as well, if we’re not doing last names. That’s mostly what I do with those I work closely with”

Bucky wanted to have a firm hand in these business dealings, but he wasn’t a total monster, plus, he knew in most cases, the more comfortable a client was, the more likely they’d give up benefits, sweetening up his own end of the deal. See? He was still working on wrapping you around his finger. He had this down, even if Steve and Sam didn’t think so. At least, that’s what he tried to convince himself as you nodded with a soft smile on your face and led him inside.

Bucky followed you past a living room, flanked by a functional and methodically laid out kitchen. That gave him a better idea of who he was working with: someone who meticulously planned their work environment. Someone who cared for every aspect no matter how small. Everything had a place and made sense. Nothing unnecessary was present and it seemed ergonomic, yet modern and classy, like everything about you. His gaze lingered as long as he could until he had to pull his head forward to continue following you down the hallway to your home office. Once again, practical and functional, with a few papers strewn around a laptop and your other useful desk features. You had everything you needed in arm’s reach, no need to tuck it away in drawers if you were constantly using it and you kept it organized enough that it wasn’t a stressful mess. You gestured for Bucky to take a seat on the couch across from you as you sat in your desk chair and flashed him a smile. Ugh there was that smile again, and this time it got him good and he couldn’t help but dopily smile back, not even aware of what his body was doing.

“James” oh how he hated when you called him that. Sure, it was his formal business name, but the way you said it made him grimace. Yeah, it sounded beautiful from your lips, but its use meant your weren’t close. And that’s all he wanted. Was for you to be close. Up against him, on top of him, engulfing him, drowning him. And he would happily accept that fate. Heck, he was drowning right now in these thoughts about you, but he clawed his way to the surface and shook his head to refocus as you said his name again, noticing his attention had drifted in favor to a blank stare at your lips. He knew with that slip-up, he had to regain control and take charge.

“Listen Honey, you’ve essentially been exterminating every guy I send in here and I don’t like it. All you are is sweet but somehow you’re turning down this deal like a bitter old man would” His sudden stern and almost condescending tone was a huge juxtaposition to the wonderland face you had noticed moments ago. You didn’t like that one bit. Being an independent woman who ran a successful business, you were used to men trying to stomp on you until they had their way. You didn’t stand for it with all of Bucky’s underlings and you weren’t going to stand for it now. You’d regain control and keep your calm demeanor, because you’re that much better than all these other mediocre men in business you dealt with all too often.

“First off, James. Let’s not get into extermination or pesticides. That’s far too complicated of an issue for right now, especially if you don’t understand the simple terms I so graciously asked you for. And if you wanna call something honey, you better be referring to my beehives on the south side of the property. Now, I just want to talk to you so you can see where I’m coming from” you said was a sickeningly sweet smile. He could see it didn’t reach your eyes, still filled with fire and not backing down. But dang if your tone still didn’t match the new nickname he’s given you. Sweet and thick. Bucky for the first time found himself listening to demands from another. He settled down into the couch cushions as you pulled out the contract you’d drafted yourself.

Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, fine. By all means, let’s get down to business. I wanna see what’s been giving all my men such a hard time that you’ve had to come directly to me.”

Bucky leaned forward to grab the contract from your hands. He flipped through the pages, most of it was identical to what he’d drafted, besides you inflating the numbers. He could handle that, but the last line he saw made his neck muscles go limp as he dropped his head.

“James Barnes will work and stay at the farm for one month’s time, uninterrupted, to learn the gravity, value, and hard work associated with operations.”

He should’ve known, but what was one month? If he was going rn use the mines, he may as well see all the land and livestock that could be affected if things went awry. He’s been doing this job for years, anyway. Maybe he needed the break. He’s sure Steve could control everything else, right? He wouldn’t have waited so long for this deal had he not needed the mine shafts. Your smooth voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“So… what’ll it be, James?”

He looked up at you through his lashes with a smirk you couldn’t quite read as you returned your own smirk, knowing what this meeting meant. Knowing that he wouldn’t have come in person unless he really wanted to make a deal happen.

“Sure Honey, whatever you want”

Next>

[goodlucktai]

Are you still taking prompts? If so, could I ask for some rise!Raph and Mikey? Their brotherly relationship really intrigues me and I wish we could have seen more of it develop in the show, and I just know you would do it justice :D thanks

set pre-movie, canon divergence, in which i simply toss mikey at a problem to fix it

read on ao3

x

This same time last year, Mikey couldn’t wait to grow up. 

Because sometimes—only sometimes—he felt like he had something he needed to prove. 

It’s not that his family doesn’t believe in him. If anything, he thinks, from the lofty heights and newly acquired maturity of fourteen years old, they believe in him a little too much. Whatever he says he can accomplish, they give him room for—and if he can’t pull it off, they help him out and still afford him full credit. Mikey knows it’s just another way they spoil him, but it’s the least egregious manner in which they do, so he lets it slide. 

And it’s definitely not that he ever feels left out or left behind. Michelangelo and his brothers operate on a fulcrum that turns four ways as naturally as the needle on a compass, guided by gravity and the poles of the planet and something even more intrinsic and fundamental than all of that. 

Even when they’re fighting, when Mikey can’t be in the same room as Donnie without the Cain Instinct taking over or Leo goes full Mean Girls and has the cattiest-sounding Facetime with April about whichever one of them ticked him off, purposefully taking his call in the living room where they all could hear it, none of that ever lasts longer than a day. They burn bright and loud and hot, but they burn fast. Gravity keeps everything together. 

Come on, gravity, Mikey thinks, holding onto his temper very carefully. Do your thing. 

“I am not,” he says, for the billionth time in his life, “a baby.”

Raph looks a little nervous, which almost makes Mikey feel bad. But then he says, “That ankle’s sprained, big man. You shouldn’t walk on it.”

“Leo wrapped it up super well! I’ll be careful!” 

Their resident medic is smiling a little to himself, packing everything up again to his own meticulous organizational standards. (Only Donnie truly has his system figured out, but Mikey thinks that’s because they share a brain or soul or whatever.) It’s the full kit, too, Leo didn’t bother with the emergency supplies in his belt-bag and instead opened up a little dinner-plate-sized portal that he reached through to ransack their infirmary back home. 

Mikey wants to roll around on his shell in annoyance. It wasn’t even that bad!

“Sprains can be worse than breaks sometimes,” Leo remarks neutrally, as if he’s commenting on the weather. “Would you rather be careful now or laid up for a couple extra weeks?”

Raph seems grateful for the input, even though he doesn’t look at Leo and Leo doesn’t look up from his kit.

Ugh. “Ugh!” Mikey says out loud for good measure. “Then I can just walk on my hands!” 

It summons a wider smile from Leonardo, one of those crooked, pleasantly surprised ones. He’s so clever and thinks in circles around everyone else—not to be mean or tricky, just because his brain is as fast as Donnie’s and eats up seconds like a racecar around a Formula 1 track—that it’s fun to catch him off-guard with something totally out-of-pocket and watch that smile show up. 

“The whole way back to the Tank?” Raph says skeptically.

“You bet!” Mikey has warmed up to the idea now.

“This I have to see,” Donnie says, putting his phone away and folding his arms on Leo’s carapace. 

“I’ll have you know, Donald, that I walked on my hands for like two days once.” 

“Believe me, Michael, I remember. I was there.”

“You tried to make spaghetti for dinner with your feet,” Leo pipes up, and giggles when Donnie makes a gagging noise above him. He’s done packing his stuff up but he’s still sitting, probably because he likes the weight of his lazy twin leaning against his shell. 

Sensing no further help from that quarter, Raph says, “Mike—” but Mikey has already capitalized on his moment of indecision and flipped forward into a handstand. His foot actually does hurt a lot and his center of balance is a tiny bit skewed, but honestly he could do this for hours. He books it for the edge of the roof, putting something like a skip into his step just to make the twins laugh. There’s a shuffle and a cut-off noise that means the big worry-wart didn’t like it but puh-lease. Mikey’s safe as houses. 

It’s when he clambers up onto the parapet that he remembers the fire escape on this building is the kind with the rolling ladders, not the stairs. 

No one says anything behind him, letting him come to his own conclusion. Mikey would appreciate that except they’re only doing it because he’s the baby and they don’t want to upset him. 

Spinning around, the concrete scraping against his palms, Mikey aims an explosively unhappy frown at all three of them from upside-down.

“I could have done it,” he insists. 

“Of course you could have,” Raph is the first to say. “There’s not a doubt in my mind you could have walked to the moon on your hands if you wanted to. But you don’t have to walk while you’re hurt when Raph is here to carry you.”

He’s so earnest and sweet. It goes a long way in making Mikey forget why he was even annoyed to begin with. His brothers are lucky they’re so loveable! 

With a groan he tucks his head and shoulders and rolls forward, shell bumping playfully against the edge of the parapet, and comes right-side-up sitting criss-cross-applesauce.

“Fine,” he capitulates. “But only because Raphie thinks I could hand-walk to the moon.”

“And back,” Raph says, smiling down at him. Mikey lifts his arms to be scooped up and settled in his usual spot on Raph’s shoulder. 

If this was a year ago, Leo would have been right next to him, perched on Raph’s opposite shoulder and making silly jokes to make Mikey feel better. Leo loves to be carried. It was the one little brother thing his cool guy persona could never eclipse. The one thing Mikey was certain he wouldn’t outgrow no matter how old he got.

But instead of crossing the roof at a run to leap into Raph’s arms, always trusting the process, knowing they would open in time to catch him, Leo stays put. Maybe because Donnie is still resting his weight on him. But his expression is so transparently wistful and lonely for a split-second, even though his brothers are all right there, that it causes a pang of upset in Mikey’s heart. 

“Hey, Lee, room for one more,” he says, patting Raphie’s shoulder. 

Raph scoffs under his breath, which makes Mikey’s stomach do a surprised, uncomfy flip. Leo hears it, and his expression shutters so fast it’s almost unnatural, everything replaced by a wide, plastic smile. 

“Gotta get my steps in, Miguel,” he says, shoving his kit back through a portal and wiggling his shoulders so Donnie knows he’s about to stand up. “This figure doesn’t come free, you know.” 

He adds an imaginary hair-toss. Raph looks like he didn’t expect anything else. Mikey thinks he must not have seen that expression on Leo’s face. 

But it’s all Mikey can think about the entire drive home. That gulf between fourteen and fifteen where apparently everything changes. 

——

Something has been wrong for awhile now, ever since Pops made Leo the leader and turned their team inside out, but Mikey figured they were due for an adjustment period. Raph had a hard time letting go of responsibility and Leo had a hard time picking it up, but once they found their way back onto the same page everything would be okay. Gravity would keep them together. They didn’t know any other way to be. 

Except it’s been weeks and the arguing is only getting worse and it’s not even really that much fun to patrol anymore in the first place. Mikey usually loves going out at night with his brothers, finding bad guys to beat up and getting those ninja endorphins, but he’s sort of starting to feel about it the way kids in daytime television feel about homework. He just wants to get it over with.  

Tonight Leo is being a little silly. Flubbing jumps and slow to catch his cues. Once he even missed a sixteenth-story ledge and would have fallen—which was not funny at all and a bad joke to make—but Donnie’s arm shot out and caught him so smoothly that it had to have been planned. Like a trust fall! Or maybe twin telepathy actually is a thing and Donnie was just tricking them with all those printouts he handed around that one time to prove Leo wrong. Either way, Leo wasn’t actually in danger. 

Mikey loves silly Leo, and played right along into his antics, but maybe he shouldn’t have. Raph was ticked off and, by the time Leo missed that ledge, fed-up. He cut the evening short and told Leo to just portal them home. 

That’s when the wary little thing in the back of Mikey’s brain pokes its head up out of the ground. That’s when he realizes something was Wrong wrong. Capital wrong. 

Because Leo says, “Your wish is my command, my liege,” with the right amount of theater kid gusto, and that’s normal. He summons a pretty spinning blue portal as tall as Raph stood at the shoulder and hops through first, leaving Raph to make a hissing noise against his teeth and duck his head to follow, and that’s normal. Mikey glances over at Donnie, who doesn’t look up from where his snout is buried in his phone to wave Mikey ahead of him, and that’s normal, too.

It’s easy to take for granted how amazing Leo’s portals are. With two steps, Mikey walks off a cool rooftop in Brooklyn and into their warmly lit living room. He can hear Pops’ telenovelas from the projector room and smell the beef burgundy he’d left to simmer on the stove for dinner. 

And distracted as he is, listening to the familiar rising and falling cadence of Raph’s worn-out lecture about responsibility and watching the pretend-listening bob of Leo’s head, Mikey still sees it when the portal wobbles as Don steps through. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have seemed like a big deal, except Leo’s face goes white and his whole body stills, and the coloring of his stripes starts to tinge toward neon like his ninpo is about to light up. 

And that’s not normal at all. 

It was just a split-second of destabilization, and Donnie moves through it just fine, but Leo holds his breath and keeps the portal open until his twin is right beside him. 

“This is literally what I’m talking about,” Raph says, that worried wrinkle in his brow deeper than ever. “Leo please listen when I talk just this once. If you’re not paying attention someone could get hurt. What if the portal just then had—”

“Woah, did you hear that?” Leo says right over him, cupping a hand at the side of his head as if to listen for something. “There’s another super riveting lecture about everything I do wrong happening in my room. I’m gonna catch that one instead. Thanks for this, though.”

He slips away as easily as if he was part eel instead of turtle and books it out of the living room in a way that manages to look like a casual saunter instead of the full-steam retreat it actually is. 

Raph looks stunned at the blatant dismissal, and then hurt, and then it all boils together into something furious. He’s never actually angry with them. It’s just that he cares so, so much and sometimes he has nowhere to put it. Sometimes it becomes something too big for him to hold. 

Right in that moment, he seems ready to grab Leo and rattle him until he ran out of nonsense and had no choice but to listen. 

“I’ll handle this one, Raphala,” Donnie says abruptly. “I’m the one who almost got spliced, so I’m the one who gets to have the first opinion about it.”

Since the twins’ whole schtick is getting each other into and out of trouble with very little regard for anything else, Raph looks reasonably skeptical of him ‘handling’ it. But Don is already following Leo out of the room, and the potential of another argument is removed neatly by his exit. 

Raph deflates a little bit. He’s the biggest strongest person Mikey knows, but suddenly he looks small. 

“Hey, Raphie, wanna help me dish up dinner?” Mikey says, smiling up at him. Anxious to banish that uncharacteristic smallness with the full force of his own personality if that’s what it takes. “You take dad his plate and I’ll wrangle Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Lee.”

Raph smiles back at him, at least, and carefully carries two big servings of stew served over garlic mashed potatoes to the projector room. Pops will probably rope him into watching his shows and maybe Raph will actually take a minute to relax when it’s just him and dad and hearty comfort food and bad TV. 

Mikey ladles up two more bowls and takes a couple of individually-wrapped Gansito snack cakes out of his stash for good measure. It’s a sweet treat kind of night, he thinks. He’ll have to remember to get one for Raphie, too. 

Leo’s room is empty, and so is Donnie’s. Since Mikey doesn’t know where any of Leo’s secret hiding places are in their new lair, he only hesitates for a second before checking the lab. 

Oh, Mikey thinks, holding the tray in numb hands. Something is Wrong. 

The twins are both on the sofa that got shoved into the corner of the room as a compromise to Don’s occasional all-nighters, turtle-piled under a weighted blanket. Leo’s wearing noise-canceling headphones, using Don’s leathery carapace as a pillow. His mask is dangling from one sleep-loose hand, so the big dark circles under his eyes stand out on his pale face. 

Donnie’s still awake, tapping away on his phone. He doesn’t look up at the doorway that Mikey is standing in, but he does use one hand to sign a subtle, silent “no.” No talking? No company? Probably both. 

Swallowing hard, Mikey lifts the tray he’s holding up a little higher. That does get Don to look at him, and his second-oldest brother softens at whatever Mikey’s face must look like. He nods toward the desk, and signs, “Thanks, M. We’ll eat before it gets cold.” 

The only thing Mikey wants in the entire world at this moment is to crawl onto the sofa with them. He would probably get away with it, he doesn’t think there’s ever been a time in his entire life he wasn’t truly welcome in a turtle pile. But Donnie said no. And Leo looks so tired. 

He puts the tray on the desk, ninja-quiet, and leaves again without a whisper. 

His phone chimes in his pocket once he’s out the door, and he pulls it out to find a text from Don that says He’ll be okay, Angelo. He just needs to get some sleep. 

Leo’s relationship with sleep has always been hot-and-cold. Usually he’s pretty honest about it when it gets bad, in the sense that he lets them see how exhausted he is instead of hiding it behind a goofy, cocky exterior. 

Remembering that missed ledge from earlier tonight causes ice to form in Mikey’s stomach. That wasn’t a trust fall at all, was it?

Biting his lip, Mikey sends back, Would a visit from Dr. Feelings help?

The typing dots appear, but only for a second. The reply comes swiftly: Not this time. 

——

That night Mikey tosses and turns for an hour before finally pulling a move he hasn’t in ages and slinking over to Raph’s room. He lingers uncertainly in the open door, because he doesn’t know how little you have to be to be allowed to crawl into Raphie’s nest and let him hug the world all better. Mikey had thought that was a forever thing, but he can’t get Leo’s face on the rooftop out of his head. 

Raph is still awake, playing on his Switch, and notices the shadow that passes in front of the doorway instantly. He sets his game down and lifts one arm in automatic welcome and Mikey crosses the room at a run and slams into the embrace as if it’s an offer that might expire. 

And it might. Mikey had never really thought it would before. 

“Hey, big man,” Raph says, his voice a comforting rumble that rights all wrongs. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Mikey nods, and picks at a loose thread in the pink comforter, and then says, “Will you still carry me when I’m fifteen?”

“What? Of course I will.”

“What about sixteen?”

“You’re never gonna be too big for Raph to carry, Mike. I’ll always be the biggest, big enough to haul you bozos around whether you like it or not.”

Some frightened little creature inside Mikey’s chest loosens the grip it has on his heart with its teeth. But it doesn’t fully let go. And Mikey can’t help but ask, “What if we argue a lot and stop being friends?”

The idea of not being friends with his brother is enough on its own to make him want to burst into tears. He has no idea how Leo isn’t just constantly bawling. Then he remembers the circles under Leo’s eyes that don’t show when he’s wearing his mask and the way Donnie always follows him out of the room now. And he thinks it’s silly of him to forget that pain shows itself differently from one person to the next. 

Hurt chases understanding across Raph’s expression, and he squeezes Mikey a little tighter to his plastron. 

“I’ll love you no matter what, Angie. You and Leo and Don are forever for me, okay? If the world ends tomorrow, I’ll still be somewhere, loving my little brothers. It’s too big to just disappear.”

Mikey is fourteen years old and too old to be coddled anymore but not too old that he doesn’t trust in Raphael with his entire heart and then some. If Raph believes Mikey could walk to the moon and back, Mikey believes his biggest brother could lift up the whole sky and hold it for as long as he wanted to, if he wanted to.

Laying there under the warm pink blanket, with Raph’s twinkling nightlight in the corner and the sound of dad’s TV down the hall, Mikey thinks about things that last forever, things you can never outgrow—inside jokes between siblings, skilled hands wrapping sprained ankles, a door standing open in the dark in case you couldn’t sleep. 

Then he thinks about those looks on Raph’s and Leo’s faces when they thought no one was watching. How lonely they’ve both been without their best friend on their team. 

“Can you do me a favor tomorrow?” he asks before he can think better of it. “Scoop Leo.”

“Mikey…” Raph sighs, not wanting to say what Mikey already knows he’s thinking. That Leo would hate it, that it would cause another argument, that he doesn’t want to fight first thing tomorrow morning. He doesn’t want to fight at all. 

“Don’t—don’t do it like you’re mad,” Mikey adds quickly, heart thumping. “Like you caught him sneaking out or you need to keep him in one place so dad can check his stitches but he keeps slipping away like a buttered noodle. Do it like—like you missed him. Pretend he’s been gone for a long time and he just got home. And you’re happy to see him.”

Once Leo went away with April to an overnight camp. It was a nerd camp, he’d said gleefully, bright eyes scanning the brochure, and there was a chess league! April’s mom was a volunteer organizer and promised Splinter that it was a relatively small, local event, and that Leo would be safe. 

It was the longest the brothers had ever been apart before. Even though they texted and video called near-constantly, by the end of the week it had felt like they’d misplaced a limb somewhere. When Leo finally swanned into the lair he had bags of souvenirs for all of them and a hundred stories to tell and the first thing he did was drop everything and run straight into Raph’s open arms. The way he always does. The first thing he always does. 

Raph is looking at Mikey in the semi-dark with unreadable eyes. It takes a minute, seconds crawling by so slowly Mikey starts to worry Raph will say no. He builds up all these new fears, a subdivision development springing up where problems will live in rows of cookie-cutter houses and pay outrageous mortgages and never truly go away again. 

But then Raphie says, “Alright, Ange. But you’re dealing with the fallout.”

He sounds very tired, and a little like he’s just humoring someone who doesn’t know better, but a win is a win. 

The next day, when Leo is the last to wander into the kitchen even though he was probably the first one awake, and does that thing where he manages to not look a single person in the eye while otherwise acting totally normal, Raph frowns at him. 

Mikey can tell it’s concern. He thinks Leo expects it to be something else, and manages to find whatever he’s looking for even if it’s not really there.

But then Raphael glances over at Mikey, and Mikey holds out his arms and mimes a big scoop. Setting his jaw as though he’s about to go head-to-head with the Shredder again, Raph scoots his chair back from the table, rounds it, and then lifts Leo clean off his feet. 

Leo’s eyes are huge and he squirms like a hooked fish, but then Raph says, all bright and charming, “Look what the goat-man dragged in! How’d you sleep, champ?”

“Fine,” the slider says cautiously, slowing his escape attempts, but still looking like he half-expects this to be a trap. When Raph hums and nothing else happens, some little piece of his guard goes down and he adds, “Good. Slept, um, right through my alarm actually. Was worried I was gonna miss Chef Miguel’s magic.”

“Yeah? If you’re still feeling tired after breakfast, you should catch another nap. You know Raph worries.”

They’re each braced for the other to hurt their feelings. But being inside Raph’s arms when he wants to hold you is the best place in the whole world to be. Nothing bad exists and nothing has the power to make you feel small or ugly or scared. It’s just you and this big guy who loves you, who loves to carry you. 

For the first time in weeks, Leo’s plastic smile wobbles and slips. He blinks and his eyes get wet and he reaches up to sling his arms around his big brother’s neck. The way to get inside Leo’s head, past all the anxieties, past that constant guard, is to hold him and sound happy to see him. He wants so badly to be wanted. Mikey can’t understand how someone as smart as Leo doesn’t know that he already is. 

“I know,” Leo chokes out, “I’m sorry.”

Raph couldn’t have looked more stunned if someone had taken this moment to dump a bucket of ice water on his head. But in true Raph fashion, his arms tighten around his little brother automatically, readjusting their hold so that Leo is more secure. The shape of it transforms from quick hug into steadfast embrace. 

Mikey’s biggest brother, who could hold up the whole sky, will stand there and hold Leo together until the heat death of the universe, or until Leo lets go. 

“Hey,” Raph says gently, “how about we hit the arcade later, just the two of us? We’re overdue a jam session and I’ll bet there’s a karaoke machine with our names on it.” 

“As long as you promise not to attempt Mariah Carey, I’m down for anything, big guy.” Because Leo would follow Raph anywhere, has followed Raph everywhere, and they both seem to be remembering that in real time. 

It really must have thrown Leo’s world out of orbit to be the one pushed out in front and expected to lead, with no prior warning or discussion. A jam session is exactly what the two of them need.

“I’ll make French toast for breakfast, but only if we can agree on toppings,” Mikey pipes up from the kitchen, as casually as if his whole heart isn’t a painful, hopeful thing lodged in his throat.

“Raspberry jam,” Leo muffles from somewhere between Raph’s shell and shoulder, “or I’m rioting.”

Raspberry jam and cream cheese stuffed French toast is Raphael’s well-known, all-time favorite breakfast food. Raph shouldn’t be surprised that Leo knows that, so the surprise must come from somewhere else. The last couple of weeks of stress and hurt and frustration go sliding off his spiky shell like water, all replaced by relief. The worry and confusion are still there, but those weigh practically nothing in comparison. He smacks a noisy kiss on the top of Leo’s head, grinning brightly when Leo whines and starts half-heartedly trying to noodle away. 

“What’d I tell you?” Donnie says, from his sleepy stake-out in front of the Keurig. “Dr. Feelings is a smart guy, but he doesn’t hold a candle to the smartest guy I know. A Mikey makes everything better.”

Mikey beams at him, the kitchen warm and full and lively, Raph and Leo squabbling playfully by the table, his morning playlist belting out something folky and upbeat, gravity pulling everything back to where it belongs.  

Fifteen doesn’t feel so scary anymore. But maybe Mikey’s okay with taking the long way there, after all. 

[agaypanic]

Reese Wilkerson x Y/N jealous smut pls!! Reader is rly popular n her little jock friends are flirting HARD w her & Reese doesn’t like it at all. Fluffy ending too 🥹 I absolutely love your work & appreciate everything you do. You’re my star.

He Can't Have You (Reese Wilkerson X Cheerleader!Reader Smut)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Being the cheer captain, you have a few boys that would do anything to get a date with you. But only one has your heart, and he wants everyone to know about it.

A/N: “you’re my star” im sobbing omg. also kinda feel like i got a lil carried away idk🧍‍♀️

CW: p in v intercourse, semi public sex (car in an empty parking lot), dumbification, unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), angry sex, marking up, slight thigh riding, orgasm denial, overstimulation

***

Reese stared in anger with furrowed brows at the front gates of the high school. He had come to pick you up from cheer practice, but you were being held up by some stupid jock on the football team. Despite being far away, he knew the guy was flirting with you, trying to catch a glimpse at any skin he could see, which was a lot, considering your cheer uniform consisted of a short skirt and sleeveless top.

Sadly, this was a regular occurrence. Reese couldn’t really blame him or any of the other guys that flirted with you. You were popular, beautiful, and sweet to everyone.

But you also made it very clear that you were taken. And even though everyone knew Reese could beat their ass, some liked to try their luck.

Especially the football captain. Reese didn’t care enough to remember his name. All he knew was that he was your friend, and since you were captain of the cheer team, you were around him a lot.

Reese was finally taken out of his thoughts when he saw your friend laugh at something you said and put his arm around your shoulders. He jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind him as he walked to you with clenched fists.

“Hey, Reese!” You said when you saw him, lighting up.

“Hey, babe.” He responded, putting a slight emphasis on the nickname. He knocked the jock’s arm off of you, replacing it with his own. “Ready to go?” He asked, glaring at your friend.

“Yup!” You said, giving your friend a small wave. “See you later.”

Reese practically dragged you away, although he tried to be gentle. 

“Are you okay, Reese?” You asked, looking up at him. He didn’t answer. Instead, he opened the car’s back door and stared at you, wordlessly telling you to get in. Confused, you crawled in, sitting on the far side of the car so Reese could sit in the back with you.

“I hate the way he looks at you,” Reese grumbled, shutting the door. “He always acts like you’re his girl or something.”

“Who? Mike?” Reese’s mood worsened, wondering why you felt the need to name the dickhead. “Reese, he’s just a friend.”

“Does he know that?” He asked bitterly, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Why are you rolling your eyes at me?”

“Because you’re being ridiculous.” You laughed, but discreetly squeezed your thighs at the way your boyfriend was looking at you. His eyes were darkened by anger and lust, and he leaned in closer to you.

“Maybe I should fuck that attitude out of you.” Your breath hitched, heat rising to your cheeks. “Give you and all your little jock buddies a reminder that you’re taken.”

You let a whimper slip out, giving Reese permission to kiss you roughly. He wrapped his arms around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto his lap. As his lips trailed down to suck on your neck, Reese guided your hips to grind back and forth on his thigh.

“Reese… marks…” You moaned, overwhelmed with stimulation. He pulled away and stopped all movements, making you whine. Reese’s eyes darted from your neck to your thighs, which were barely covered by your cheer skirt.

“You’re right.” He sighed, drumming his fingers on your hips as he thought. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t just go at your neck until it looked like you were attacked by a vampire. As cheer captain, you had a reputation to uphold, an example to set. And Reese knew you’d complain about having to cover the hickeys every day until they faded away.

So he decided to go for the next best thing.

You yelped in surprise as he abruptly took you off his lap and laid you down on the back seat. Reese’s head dived underneath your skirt, where he immediately started nipping and sucking at your inner thighs. You moaned breathlessly, waiting for his mouth to travel to where you needed him.

But his lips never strayed. It was like he wanted to torture you, making you more and more needy by being so close to giving you what you wanted but not willing to give it to you. Whenever you tried to squeeze your thighs to find relief, Reese pried your legs apart with his hands, nails digging into your ass and thighs.

Eventually, Reese pulled away to admire his work. His staring made you shy, but his hands prevented you from trying to hide your marked-up thighs and panties, which were probably damp with your arousal.

“Now, whenever you’re on the pyramid, and those assholes try to get a look at your ass…” Reese said, hand brushing over your clothed pussy, making you whine and squirm in hopes for more. “They’re gonna know you’re not theirs to look at.”

“Please, Reese.” You whimpered, looking up at him. “Need you so bad.”

“Oh yeah? You need me, baby?” Reese cooed, hovering over you to kiss your pouting lips. He laughed when you tried chasing him when he pulled away to unbutton and unzip his jeans. Wanting to speed up the process, you pulled your panties down as far as you could, and Reese yanked them the rest of the way off your legs.

Reese manhandled you, moving you around to put you in a better position before pulling his stiff cock out of his boxers. He swiped the tip through your folds to collect some of your wetness and pumped himself a few times before slipping in.

You arched your back at the feeling of being filled, moaning loudly and eyes rolling back. Reese wasted no time to pound into you, watching your tits bounce from the force of his thrusts. He flipped your skirt up so he was able to see himself disappear inside of you, smirking at the sight. You writhed around in pleasure, movements slightly restricted by the small backseat and Reese hovering over you.

“So good…” Your words almost slurred together, relishing in all the feelings and pleasure Reese was giving you. “S’good, Reese.”

“Bet that asshole couldn’t fuck you like this, huh?” Reese growled.

“Nuh-uh.”

“What was his name again?” He was baiting you. He could see the fucked out look on your face and wondered if you would even remember the name that you’d given him just a few minutes ago. You mumbled something, panting heavily. “Use your words, Y/n.”

“I dunno.” You said. The only things on your mind were Reese and your impending orgasm; there was no room for anything else. Reese laughed, thrusts getting rougher.

“So cock drunk that you can’t remember?” He asked in a sweetly condescending tone. You nodded. “Fucking you dumb so you can’t think of anything but me… Wanna keep you like this.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” You got louder with each word, so close to the edge, body begging to be pushed over. “I’m gonna come, I’m so close.”

Hearing that, Reese pulled out completely, breathing hard. You almost cried in frustration as you felt your climax slowly slip away.

“Good girls come,” Reese said, staring down at you. 

“I’ll be good.” You replied immediately. “So, so good. I promise, please.”

“Gonna be my good girl?” Reese asked, hands grasping your ankles. You nodded furiously. 

You thanked whatever higher being was out there when Reese accepted your pleas. You also thanked them for letting you be so flexible when he pushed your legs up, knees to your chest, before ramming back into you. You shuddered at the new angle that Reese’s cock was hitting you; he felt deeper inside you than ever before.

It wasn’t long before your orgasm crept back up on you. Sensing you were close again by the way your walls were fluttering around him, Reese played with your clit and gripped your marked-up thigh tighter.

“Gonna…” You tried to speak, but the words were caught in your throat. “I’m… gonna… fuck!” A wave of pleasure washed over you as you climaxed, coming all over Reese’s dick. He didn’t let up, slamming his hips into yours and rubbing your clit to ride you through your orgasm. Reese didn’t slow his movements when you came down from your high. You whined at the overstimulation. “Too much, Reese.” You muttered, feeling another orgasm quickly approaching.

“Thought you were my good girl,” Reese said, and you nodded in confirmation. He smiled down at you. His movements stuttered as he was on the brink of his own high, trying to hold you as close to him as he could in the position you were in.

Reese groaned when he came, his orgasm triggering your own. He stiffened, savoring the feeling of your spent pussy pulsing around him.

When you both came down from your highs and relaxed, Reese unfolded your legs, letting them stretch along the backseat of the car as he laid down between them, head resting on your chest. You looked at your surroundings, saw completely fogged windows, and hoped you were still the only ones in the school parking lot.

“I really don’t like it when your friends flirt with you,” Reese said, much more softly than any other time he had spoken today.

“I know.” You responded, hand cupping the back of his head in comfort. “I don’t really like it either. I’ll talk to them, tell them to stop.”

“Thank you,” Reese said, reaching up to kiss you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

Reese ran his hand up and down the side of your thigh, looking down at the red and purple splotched skin.

“That’s so hot.” He muttered to himself, getting a laugh and a playful slap to the shoulder from you.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

Reese Wilkerson Taglist: @hollymaybank @theogirlovermattheogirl

[laviefantasie]

You’re Losing Me

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Reader

Summary: Is love truly enough? Enough to stick around even when you feel yourself slowly dying from it? Can it truly ever be enough?

| Masterlist |

She couldn’t breathe. She could feel her lungs pushing against her ribcage while looking for the oxygen they begged to inhale. Her heart throbbed against them, looking for any sign —no matter if it was painful— to remind itself that it still lived. That it could still beat.

She didn’t think she could blame her heart for the need to make sure it could still beat, not after the words she had just uttered to the reason it had been beating so harmoniously for so long.

“We’re done”

She didn’t even know she had said it until she saw his eyes widen in disbelief. She didn’t even know she’d ever truly have the courage to say it out loud.

But she had. It was done.

“What—why? Y/N, baby, what’s—I don’t understand”

Hurt. That’s all she could see on those blue-green eyes she had always found comfort in. Those who had always looked at her with so much love it had been unbelievable. Those eyes who lately hadn’t shined in her direction even once.

She could hear her pulse all throughout her body. She could hear it as loudly as if her heart had been pressed against her ears.

Could she truly say it again? Could she be brave—strong enough to utter those painful words one more time? Did she really have to?

“We’re… we’re done, Eren” she weakly whispers.

It pained her, of course. It truly felt as if she was forced to talk after swallowing glass, her throat and mouth filled with blood that stopped her from formulating the words as loud as she should’ve.

Eren shook his head in disbelief. Everything in his body felt numb. It felt as if someone had thrown a cold bucket of water at him and left him outside during winter with not even a jacket to give him a sense of warmth. This couldn’t be happening. He didn’t understand why it was happening.

“I don’t understand” he whispers weakly “I don’t… Y/N, please…”

“The fact th-that you don’t understand” she sobs weakly, the tears she had fought so hard to contain flowing freely down her cheeks, “Is even mor-more reason why we must bre-break up”

“Did I do something?” He asks, tears accumulating in his eyes “What did I do? I ca-will fix it”

She wanted him to stop. She didn’t want to hear him.

All this time she had been wanting him to fix what he had broken. All this time she had been waiting for him to realize that he was hurting her. That loving him was killing her. All this time she wanted him to give her one reason to stay.

And all this time he hadn’t.

“You can’t fix it”

Her voice once soft and weak became hard and pained. All the hurt she had to endure this last year coming back full force, giving her the strength she needed to save herself from self destructing. The strength she needed to not give in.

“It’s too late to fix it” she finalizes “I’ve been waiting all this year for you to fix it. I’m done waiting”

“Y/N—”

“Do you know how hard it was to watch you push everyone, including me, away?” She sobs “How hard it was to watch you shamelessly flirt with every girl that looked your way while I was right there at your side waiting for you to notice me? How hard it was to see you shrug off our relationship, our friendship, as if it was nothing?”

Eren’s eyes widen even more, if possible. Had he truly been doing that? He knew he had change, he knew he had closed off on his friends after his parents passing, but they had never once left his side. She had never left his side. No matter how hard he pushed. Or how cruel he was.

And then last year he had gotten his shit together. She had helped him with that. He had pushed all his pain onto something productive and had become the university’s star quarterback.

Is that when it all started? When his dull grief-striking eyes and neutral face had become the bad boy mysterious persona every girl wanted to date and every boy wanted to be. Was it then when he decided to play along to all of it just to not feel alone, to feel worthy, forgetting what he truly had always had by his side?

Had it really come to this? Had he really taken for granted what he had by believing he always would have it?

“We—I would’ve stayed with you through anything” she continues “I stayed through everything. No matter how bad it was. But… I’m out of reasons to stay”

“I love you”

Three words. Three words he had never once uttered in that year. Three words she had remembered herself those 365 days to keep fighting.

Those three words had already lost its meaning.

“Loving isn’t enough anymore”

And she turned around going for the door. He scrambled out of the bed he had been sitting while looking up at her as fast as he could.

She couldn’t leave. If she left it became real. If she left he wouldn’t be able to fix what he had broken.

Had he really broken the best thing that had happened to him? The one thing in his life that still gave him hope?

He tried to grasp her hand, to stop her from leaving, but she had already opened the door and crossed it. His hand met the wooden frame as her body started making her way through the hallway, away from his dorm.

How had it come to this?

It had been a year after Eren’s parents death through a tragic car accident. A year since Zeke, Eren’s older half-brother, had taken his custody. It had been a hard year. Eren’s eyes had lost its incomparable spark and his smile had ceased to exist.

Mikasa, Armin and Y/N, his closets friends since childhood, along with the rest of their gang had done everything they could to help him. Even when he snapped at them, spitting cruel words that fed into their insecurities, they never left his side. He pushed and pushed with all his might, anything to keep them away in fear of ever feeling the tightness in his chest of losing someone he loved again. But they pushed back. All of them. Never once giving in.

They knew he was hurting. They knew it. And they would never leave his side while he did so.

So they stuck around no matter how hurt they got along the way. Because it was Eren, and Eren deserved to have people fight for him as hard as he used to fight for them.

Y/N became the best fighter among them.

She would take his cruel malicious words with grace before embracing him against her warmth, letting him let out all his anger and sadness on her. Promising to carry it on her shoulders in hopes of lifting some from his, as small as the portion was.

And day by day, night by night, she stood tall by his side. Never once letting him fall.

He was thankful, even when he didn’t voice it. She had giving him something constant, something he could hold onto when the waves that came crashing towards him in hopes of drowning him got to him. She kept her hold steady and unfaltering, keeping him afloat.

So, when had he started taking it for granted?

“Eren Jaeger, isn’t it?”

He had been waiting outside the Economics classroom for Y/N’s class to finish so they could go have lunch when the captain of the cheerleading squad Historia was a part of first spoke to him.

It wasn’t that people didn’t know him around university, they did with him being the quarterback, he just wasn’t someone that you would think was easy to approach. So people normally didn’t. Not that he minded, he had all he needed with his friends and you by his side.

He nods, coldly.

But she smiled. As brightly as possible, her hazel eyes shining under the hallway’s lights.

“Last week’s game was amazing! You were so fast, it seemed nobody could ever come close to catching you” she giggled.

His cold demeanor melted slightly, not used to compliments from other than his coach and friends. Most people just clapped him on the back as a way to congratulate him, too afraid to say something to him.

He nods again in thanks.

“We, the cheer girls and the team’s boys, were thinking of holding a small get-together to celebrate the win” she continues “We’d like you to come. We know you don’t like those sceneries, as you’ve made clear before, but Connie and Jean are going. Reiner and Bertolt too”

He stays quiet.

“Just wanted to formally invite you. Hopefully the rest of your teammates going, the ones you’re actually close with, persuades you”

Before Eren can refuse, the bell rings and the door he was standing beside bursts open. Students cross it without even batting an eye.

Eren’s eyes soften once he catches a glance of you and the bright sincere smile you send his way when you see him. All under the cheerleading’s watchful curious gaze.

“Ren” you kissed his cheek before looking at the girl he was talking to, “Chloe! Hi! I haven’t seen you in a while, still battling with Calculus?”

The blonde girl, Chloe, groans, “Ugh, Mr. Ackerman is still the worst”

Both girls share a laugh under Eren’s curious gaze. Did they known each other? For the laugh you just shared and the familiarity in which you talked with one another he guessed you did. How? He guessed that through a class since he hadn’t ever seen you hang out with other girls that weren’t Mikasa, Sasha, Historia or Ymir.

“You know each other?”

His voice is cold and dull, but his gaze on you is soft. So soft that Chloe isn’t sure she imagined it. She didn’t know he could have a gaze as soft as that with the cold lifeless way he glared at everything around him.

And yet, Y/N smiled as if he had just told her she was the most beautiful girl to ever exist.

“We do! We met during Ackerman’s Calculus class last semester”

“This little genius became our teacher’s favorite while I am stuck with him once more” the blonde beauty groaned.

“You’ll get it this time. I can help you”

That’s something he had always loved about you. The selfless way you tried to help everyone in every little way you could.

“You’re an angel, Y/N” she smiles “How do you two know each other?”

Y/N’s smile brightened if possible, “This is my adorable boyfriend that I’ve told you about”

Chloe’s eyes widen in disbelief, “Eren Jaeger is the all-loving charismatic too-good-to-be-true childhood best friend told lover you’ve told me about?”

You laughed before nodding making Chloe’s eyes widen even more.

For Y/N, Chloe’s face was funny and innocent. Eren, on the other hand, understood the gleam of uncertainty in the blonde’s eyes. It was obvious she was trying to comprehend how the perfect boyfriend you had describe was the university’s feared lifeless bad boy.

It made him angry to feel as if he wasn’t worthy of you, he already thought so himself so seeing someone else think that made his blood boil.

He wanted to prove to everyone and to himself that he was worth it, that he could be worthy of you. So he did the one thing that condemned you both without even knowing it.

“When’s the party?”

The party had been eventful and unexpected. None of their friends had expected Eren and neither had they expected the way he had behaved that night. He had drank and talked, and even though he hadn’t laughed or smiled he had become this unapproachable guy that now everyone wanted to approach.

His aura was intoxicating. And like a moth to the flame, everyone would fly towards him as if he was holding the matches.

Mikasa, Armin and Y/N had watch with uncertainty the amount of attention Eren was receiving. But moreover, the way he seemed to be bathing in it. It was a weird sight. Eren had never been one to want attention, he always got it without looking for it though. But he had never seek it.

So why was he seeking and bathing in it now?

“Well…” started Armin “At least he seems okay”

Y/N nodded a little uncertain, but Mikasa frowned.

“I don’t like this” she muttered “Feels like the start of a disaster”

“Don’t frown, Mika” Y/N said lovingly, “Maybe this is what he needs to open up more. He’s been getting better, so maybe… maybe this is his way of trying to go back to who he is”

“I don’t know”

“We have to trust him” Armin added, “It’s not like he’s doing anything bad anyway, he’s just making friends”

Mikasa’s frown deepened but she let herself be guided out of the living room towards the kitchen by her two closest friends. She had a bad feeling about all of this, she just hoped she was wrong.

But they had all come to know a long time ago that Mikasa’s instincts were never wrong. Especially concerning Eren.

The first time they realize that something was wrong was during their monthly movie night between the Scouts, as they like to call themselves since their camp days where all they met and became friends. It was that night that Eren first truly disappointed them.

[ Can’t make it. Party at Floch’s. Srry ]

That’s all his text to the group chat had said. Not only had he totally blown them off on their tradition, but he hadn’t even bother to invite them. It was maddening. Especially since Connie and Jean were also invited to said party and refused to go because of their plans.

It weirded them all out. If they had invited Reiner and Bertolt and they cancelled they could’ve understood, they were close but not that close.

It had always been Armin, Mikasa, Eren and Y/N until camp. And then it had become Armin, Mikasa, Eren, Y/N, Jean, Connie, and Sasha. More had been added along the way, but the seven of them were as tight as possible. Nothing could ever come in their way, so why did it suddenly feel like something could?

They spent their movie night in an uncomfortable silence. Not even Jean, who always took every opportunity he could to insult Eren, said something.

And then one movie night missed became two and three until they just stopped expecting him to come.

At university, Eren barely found them to spend time with them during his breaks or lunch as they were used to. Instead they were forced to look for him all throughout the campus, always finding him surrounded by other team members or cheerleaders.

And even then, Armin and Y/N tried to convince themselves this was just him trying to become socially available once again. No matter how many times Mikasa told them she didn’t believe that was the case.

Their disappointment reach its breaking point when Armin received an ‘SOS’ text from Mikasa asking him to go to their dorm, only to find a dolled up sobbing Y/N on the dark-haired beauty’s embrace. Eren had missed their anniversary date to hang out with Floch. Y/N could’ve probably let it slide if it hadn’t been for the any times he had already cancelled —and stood her up— before.

That was the last straw for Armin.

He had seen you, Y/N, his childhood best friend give your all to the blue-green-eyed boy. Since the moment you both had met Eren and Mikasa, you had always given all you could give to Eren. Especially the last couple of years when he had started to become unstable. You had never given in. Never had you left him alone, no matter how many reason you’d had.

So what gave him the right to make you cry?

Armin never again excused his behavior after that night. Him and Mikasa always standing beside you as you had to endure the attention from girls Eren was receiving, especially when he seemed to enjoy it so much. More than once had they offered to give him a peace of their minds, begged you really, but you had refused. You didn’t know what was going on through his head but you had faith in him. Faith that he would figure it out and fix it, as he had always done before.

You had waited for the whole year.

Your last straw came on your birthday. Just a month after Christmas, which Eren failed to celebrate with the Scouts again in their traditional small gathering on the 25th.

Your friends had all prepared you a surprise party, which they had planned through a secret group chat in which Eren had failed to text back every time. The party was set to start at 10 o’clock at night at Armin’s house, giving you enough time to spend the morning as you always did with your family and the rest of the day with Eren, as they all had been used to since you two started dating exactly five years ago when both of you were fifteen. It was perfect, honestly, you’d be too distracted with the brunette boy to find suspicious why they all had been MIA.

Except Eren didn’t show up at your doorstep. He hadn’t even called or texted.

Which meant you spent the rest of the day before the party locked in your room crying silently while you wondered why.

Only to find out through Floch’s instagram story he was at his house, with an unknown girl under his arm.

By the time Mikasa had gone to pick you up at your childhood home, you were asleep on your bed with swollen eyes and dry tear and mascara stains on your cheeks. She had gasped at the sight, not understanding what had happened. At least until she saw what was on the phone —which was still unblocked— you held softly in your grasp.

And the dark-haired beauty saw red.

She had texted Armin and soon the party had moved to your living room, and instead of a party they turned it into a movie night. They decorated the place and made a blanket fort, Annie even going as far as going to buy some fairy lights to put all over the place.

By the time Sasha went to wake you up and helped you get ready, all of them hid awaiting your arrival.

It had helped heal your broken heart a little.

Still you couldn’t ignore what had been going on for long enough anymore. You had finally ran out of excuses.

So the next week when Armin went to the dorm you and Mikasa shared, you knew. And they knew you knew. So they held you, all day and night, trying to give you the strength you’d need to do what was right for you.

And you did.

And that’s how you’d both gotten to this stage of your story. As painful as getting there had been.

Eren fell to the floor. His knees had given out. He had been frozen on his spot, watching the door intently as if that would somehow make you come back. He thought he had been doing the right thing, he thought he had finally start becoming someone worthy of you. Someone that deserved to be loved by someone as good as you.

He was sobbing. He didn’t even know when he had started, but his body shook with the force of each sob.

He didn’t know what to do. How could he keep going without your unwavering presence beside him giving him the strength he needed to fight back against the cruel world they lived in?

That’s how Armin found him when he came back from his classes. Hugging his knees to his chest on the floor as he sobbed his heart out.

“So she actually did it, huh?”

His teary gaze found his best friend’s stone cold one.

“I d-don’t… Ar-Armin, I don-don’t unders-understand”

“You don’t understand?” He scoffed, “You missed every single movie night we’ve had for a year. You’ve missed every date you guys planned. You missed your anniversary, Christmas, the New Year. And you don’t understand?”

Eren stares, dumbfounded. Had he truly missed all that? He couldn’t even remember properly at this moment.

“You even missed her birthday” Armin continued, “It was last Friday, FYI”

Another sob wrecks through his body. Your birthday, he had missed your birthday. He didn’t even remember the last time he had ever missed one and now he had completely forgotten about it.

What was wrong with him?

“I truly don’t know what was going through your head all this year. Nor why you did every single thing you did” Armin sighed “I’m just glad she finally had the courage to walk away. You were killing her. Everytime you flirted with another girl, every time you blew her off, you were killing her. I’m glad she finally walked away”

Eren had no idea something could hurt this much after his parents’ passing. But it truly hurt more to know he had lost the person he loved the most when she still was at arm’s length.

Especially when this time there was nothing nor no one else to blame but himself. He had pushed you too far this time and you weren’t coming back.

He had lost you.