#baby I’m not even here I’m a hallucination

[galaxitic]

who up and feeling useless

[wildwestdean]

impetus

summary: dean gets targeted by a witch while working a case, and she curses him to yearn for what he secretly loves the most. it seems to have no effect, until it's pointed out that he can't seem to stay away from you - but what happens when he tries to fight it?

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 9.4k+

warnings: violence, hunting/working a case, mentions of murders, gore, evil witches, reader and dean get attacked, swearing, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, yearning, mutual pining, idiots oblivious to their own feelings, magical curses, hallucinations, nightmares, depictions of death, depictions of drowning, fighting/arguments, heart-to-heart, confessions, use of [y/n], nicknames, mature themes

“Right, well, this isn’t creepy at all,” Dean declared, rolling Baby to a stop before switching into park. 

You both sat quietly as you surveyed the desolate building, a feeling of unease washing over you. 

“Maybe we should wait for Sam,” you suggested half heartedly. He was only down at the Sheriff’s station, and it wouldn’t even take ten minutes for him to meet you here, but you knew Dean wouldn’t wait. 

“No,” he said, confirming what you already knew. “Someone else is missing and this is our best lead so far. If you don’t want to go in, that's fine, but I am.” 

“I’m not letting you go in there alone,” you snapped, sitting up as tall as you could despite the pit forming in your stomach. 

“Awe, you worried about me, sweetheart?” Dean teased, turning to look at you with a grin; one that was effectively wiped from his face when he saw the look in your eyes. “Hey, what is it?” 

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, shrugging lightly. “I just have a bad feeling about this.” 

“Bad feeling like what?” he questioned, his brows knitting together. 

You thought about it, trying to pinpoint what it was you felt, but you couldn’t. “Just…. don’t go wandering off,” you ended up saying- begging, more like. 

“Alright,” he agreed easily. “We stick together, and we’ll be in and out before you know it.” 

“Right,” you confirmed with a nod. “Let’s gear up.” 

You exited the car as quietly as you could, making your way around to the back as Dean unlocked the trunk and propped up the panel to the arsenal.

“You and Sam better be right about this,” he muttered, digging out the box of witch-killing bullets. 

Your mind raced through the details of the case: An exsanguinated priest, a dead nun with her tongue ripped out, the president of the high schools abstinence club found without a heart, and various livestock missing various body parts - if this wasn’t a witch, you were a little scared to find out what else it could be. 

“We have to be,” you breathed out, loading your ammo. 

“Can you do me a favour and sound at least a little confident?” he asked playfully, lightly nudging your arm with his own before tucking his gun into his jeans. 

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, holstering your own gun. 

“It’s alright,” he said earnestly, handing you your favourite knife (one that used to be his before you claimed it as your own). “I’m just not used to seeing you so spooked.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly as you took the knife from him. “I’m not used to feeling spooked.” 

“We’ll make it through,” he consoled, closing up the trunk. “Just like we always do.” 

“Just like we always do,” you echoed with a nod, following him towards the building. 

The overgrowth brushed your calves as you made your way up the walk, and after a quick survey of the facade, Dean swung the door open after picking the lock. 

“Wait!” you hissed, stopping him before he entered. “Sam does know we’re here, right?” 

You watched as his shoulders shrugged before stepping inside. “Probably.” 

“That’s… comforting,” you sighed, following him across the threshold. 

The two of you did a quick preliminary sweep of the main level before making your way to the top floor, finding nothing of significance in any of the rooms. Making your way back down, you both stopped dead in your tracks as you heard a clatter come from beneath you. 

“Of course there’s a basement,” Dean whispered. “Why wouldn’t the creepy ass witch be in the creepy ass basement of this creepy ass house?” 

“How do you know she’s a creepy ass witch?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “Maybe she’s hot. Or a guy. Or both.” 

He faltered over his response, considering your words for a moment. “I’ll bet whatever tab you drink up at the bar once we end up ganking this bitch. She’s creepy.” 

“Deal,” you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

You both chuckled, before another noise from the basement drew your attention back to the case at hand. Dean awkwardly cleared his throat before leading the way in search of the basement entrance, using the occasional noise as guidance. 

“God, I hate witches,” he muttered to himself, slapping away cobwebs as he descended the stairs. 

“I don’t think the witch put those webs there,” you said with a snicker. 

“No, they’re just the one turning this rotting corpse of a house into a lair of evil and despair,” he hissed. 

You rolled your eyes in response, unable to stop the fond smile from creeping onto your face as you made it to the bottom of the stairs. 

A muffled cry caught your attention, and Dean spared you a quick look before running in the direction it came from, you hot on his heels. Coming up on a corner, he slowed to a halt and peered around the wall. 

“It looks clear,” he decided after a moment. “Just be careful,” he added, continuing on his way. 

Upon turning the corner, you were enveloped in the warm glow of candles, which would have been nice, had it not been for the rest of the scene. An altar lay at the far wall, burning candelabras stood in each corner of the room, and the very person you were searching for was bound and gagged in a chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by a circle of candles. 

Dean cursed and muttered under his breath, surveying the room. “I’ll get him, you get the altar.“

“Okay,” you agreed, running across the room. Once you reached the altar, you couldn’t help but stare in shock and disgust for a moment as you took in the sight; all the missing body parts seemingly staring back at you from where they lay soaked in blood. It took Dean shouting your name from across the room to bring you back to your senses, and you quickly upturned the altar as Dean instructed the now freed man to get out as fast as possible and wait by the car. As soon as the contents of the altar were scattered, an ear piercing shriek came from behind you. 

Quickly whirling on your heels, you were greeted by a cloaked figure, who seemingly came out of nowhere. 

“What have you done?” she screamed, dropping her hood as she stared daggers into you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned innocence. “Did I ruin your big plan?”

“You ruined everything!” she shrieked, slowly approaching you. “You’ll pay for this!” 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Dean called out from behind her. 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?! How many centuries passed by until the circumstances were right? I had it! I had it all! I was one spell away from seeing my love again!” she continued to scream, advancing further towards you as she ignored Dean.

“Back off, Grunhilda!” Dean roared from behind her, drawing his gun. 

“No!” she shrieked, barely lifting her hand in order to easily swing his gun away - and stop you from drawing your own. “You stupid little gnat. You think you can just come in here and mess with things you don’t understand? You think you can take this from me?!” 

Her shouting was drowned out by the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as your throat constricted, the air leaving your lungs and not returning. You felt your bones cracking beneath your skin as your feet left the floor, and you shared a look of terror with Dean before black began to cloud the edges of your vision. 

Without an effective weapon handy, Dean rushed the witch and tackled her to the floor, sending you crashing down. You met the concrete with a thud, and it knocked the rest of your senses out of you. You laid there for who knows how long, fighting off the waves of pain and nausea, willing yourself to move as you listened to the struggle happening a few feet away from you. 

By the time you managed to prop yourself up, Dean was pinned down as she advanced on him, and you desperately looked around for either of your guns. 

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” you heard her ask, menace laced deep in her words. “To want something so desperately, to feel that desire within your very soul?!” 

Dean struggled against her hold as you struggled to pick yourself up, to at least crawl to a weapon if you had to.

“Well you will,” she sneered, cackling to herself. “You’ll know how it feels. To have what you want the very most to be so close to you, to have it at the edge of your fingertips, only to never be able to grasp it! For it to be the only thing you can think about!”

“Shut the hell up,” Dean seethed through clenched teeth, glaring at her. 

She only stepped closer towards him, cackling to herself. “Your strongest yearning, hidden deep in your heart, will nevermore be yours to part. Be it with sun or with rain, that which brings joy won’t be without pain.” 

“You finished yet?” Dean interrupted, before he had the wind knocked out of him, rendering him silent. 

Moving as quickly as you could without being noticed, you closed in on Dean’s pistol while the witch carried on. 

“Whatever you crave you cannot say, yet you’ll seek it out be it night or day,” she continued, hovering over him. “Consider yourself lucky, you useless toad. I’ve had countless lifetimes yearning to see my love again, and I’ll spend lifetimes more. At least you only have this one measly little life to yearn for what you want.” 

Grasping the gun in your hands, you carefully rose to your feet and steadied yourself to take aim. “Man, you really do talk too much,” you huffed out.

The shot rang out just as she turned towards you, though it was silenced by a roaring wind that accompanied a bright blue light. Within seconds, everything was calm and quiet again.

Fighting every urge you had to collapse back onto the floor, you trudged your way over to Dean in an attempt to help him up. 

“God, I told you she’d be creepy,” he gasped out, groaning as he stood. 

“You want a prize?” you asked incredulously, staring up at him. 

“I wanna get the hell out of here,” he said, ushering you to take leave. “Then I want those drinks you owe me.” 

After what felt like another entire day, you and Dean had dropped the victim off at the hospital, patched each other up, cleaned out the basement, showered, and filled Sam in on everything that went down. 

“So… she cursed you?” Sam asked curiously, trying to understand. 

“I dunno. She tried to, I guess,” Dean replied nonchalantly. “But [Y/N/N] put a bullet in her. No witch, no curse, right?” 

Sam shared a brief look with you, before turning back to Dean. “Yeah, but… there was no body.” 

“What?” Dean asked gruffly. 

“The witch,” you said. “I shot, but she vanished. What if she isn’t dead?” 

“Well, I feel normal, so I’m gonna say she’s dead,” Dean declared with a shrug. “Now, can we head to the bar? I’m in desperate need of a drink… or twelve.” 

Without waiting for an answer, he quickly stood and donned his jacket before looking back at you and Sam. “You guys coming or what?” 

“Oh, do I have a choice to not go?” you asked playfully.

“You can stay if you want, but your wallet comes with me,” he replied, smiling innocently. 

“Alright, let’s go,” you said with a dramatic sigh, grabbing your own jacket. 

Not long after, the three of you were sliding into a booth in the nearest dive, enjoying the lack of people; you guys seriously needed to decompress. 

“Alright, I’ll be back,” you declared, hopping out of the booth to get the first round of drinks. 

“Make sure you get a tab started!” Dean jokingly called after you. 

You flipped him off in response, taking a seat at the bar after placing your order. While you waited, Sam watched as Dean grew more restless in his seat. 

“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” he finally asked, eyeing Dean as he fidgeted anxiously. 

“What?” Dean asked cluelessly, glancing around the bar. “I’m thirsty. She’s been gone for what, like, half an hour?” 

“It’s… barely been two minutes, Dean,” Sam informed him with an amused grin.  

“Yeah, well. I want my beer,” Dean mumbled, tapping his fingers on the table as he glanced around once more. “I’m gonna go see if she needs help.”

Before Sam could even reply, Dean was already halfway across the bar, meeting you just as you got your final drink. 

“Need a hand?” Dean asked cheerfully, his sudden appearance making you jump. “Sorry,” he added with a snicker. 

“Dick,” you muttered with a laugh, hopping down from the stool. “Here you go,” you added, handing him his beer.

“Awesome,” he beamed, taking the bottle from your outstretched hand. 

He followed closely as you made your way back to the table, handing Sam his drink before sliding into the booth; Dean followed suit, leaving you nestled in between him and the wall. 

The three of you had a few more rounds before Dean slipped away, determined to teach a lesson to the arrogant ass harassing players around the pool tables - just because you didn’t need to hustle people anymore didn’t mean it wasn’t still fun every now and then. You watched him fondly, laughing quietly to yourself as you watched him fumble around with his cue before making a terrible break. Harder than it looks, you could just hear him say. 

Your attention was turned back to Sam when he cleared his throat, and you were met with his questioning gaze. “Does he seem weird to you?” 

“Weird how?” you asked, face scrunched in confusion. 

“I don’t know, strange,” he replied with a small shrug. “Like- like antsy or something.” 

Your eyes flit back across the room to Dean, who was very much in his element as he upped his ante, before focusing on Sam again. “I haven’t noticed anything, Sammy.” 

He sighed in resignation, seeming to already know that would be your response. “It’s probably nothing, just forget I said anything,” he replied, shaking his head dismissively before finishing his drink. 

“If you say so,” you muttered quietly, sipping your drink as you cast a worried gaze across the bar, getting lost in thought.

By the time you each finished another round of drinks, Dean made his way back over to the table; much to the surprise of you and Sam. 

“Done so soon?” Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow at his brother. 

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, sliding back into the seat beside you.

“But you only played one round,” you said quizzically. 

“So?” Dean wondered, gulping down the rest of his beer. 

“So, you usually play a lot more than that,” Sam pitched in, shifting his gaze between you and Dean. 

Dean sighed, his bottle clanging on the table as he set it back down. “Why am I getting the third degree here? I played a game, he learned his lesson, I got over it. End of story.”

“Okay, grouchy,” you snickered, ruffling his hair a little just because you knew he hated it. Except he really did love it when it was you doing it.

“Whatever, anyone want another round?” he asked with a huff, lightly swatting your hand away. 

“No, I’m gonna call it a night,” you admitted, shifting to slip your jacket back on. 

“Yeah, me too,” Sam declared, starting to stand from the table. 

Dean stood as well, assumingly just to let you out. “Alright, let’s go.”

You and Sam both stilled in your movements at his response, sharing a shocked look with each other. “You’re… coming with us?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked with a scoff, shrugging his jacket on as he looked questioningly between you and Sam. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“We just didn’t expect you to call it a night so early,” Sam explained helplessly. “Gettin’ old, huh?” he added, trying to lighten the mood a little. 

“Yeah, I mean, you barely even wracked up a tab!” you declared with a laugh, before grinning mischievously. “Drinks just don’t agree with you anymore, do they, old man?”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, fixing his collar just to busy his hands. “Okay, alright, one more wisecrack and I’m leaving you both here.” 

Despite the finality in his tone, the amusement dancing in his eyes gave him away - as did the hand he extended to you to help you slide from the booth. 

“Whatever you say, grandpa,” Sam teased, patting Dean on the shoulder before walking away with laughter in his wake. “I’ll be outside!”

You chuckled in response, and the stern look Dean gave you only made you laugh even more. “Yeah, yeah. Hurry it up, chuckles,” he chided, wiggling his fingers at you. He surveyed the bar as you finally took hold of his hand, sliding out from your seat with ease and standing before him. “Ready?” he asked, gaze turning back to look down at you. 

“Yeah, I just gotta go pay,” you replied, nodding your head in the direction of the bar counter. 

“Alright,” he said with a nod. He gave your hand a squeeze, though instead of letting go like he normally would, he held it firmly as he led the way across the bar. 

You followed along quietly, trying your hardest to not read too much into it. Though when you stood before the bar and he had yet to release your hand, you gave him a puzzled look. “Did you wanna go get the car?” you asked hesitantly. 

He looked confused for a moment, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on either, before he cleared his throat with a curt nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll meet you out there. Don’t take too long,” he rushed, giving your hand another fleeting squeeze before shuffling away. 

Strange, you thought briefly, before shifting your attention to the bartender before you. 

As you paid the tab, Dean settled into the driver's seat of Baby, and Sam watched him impatiently drum his fingers against the wheel as he hummed along to whatever song was in his head; and he couldn’t help but snort a laugh as Dean checked his watch one, two, three times since getting into the car. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Sam chided with a laugh, shaking his head. 

“What?” Dean inquired, annoyance clear in his voice. 

“Dude, please tell me you see what’s going on,” Sam pleaded. 

Dean widened his eyes in confusion, glancing around the near empty parking lot before looking back at his brother. “What’s going on?” 

Before Sam could reply, their attention was caught by the opening of the bar’s door when you emerged from the building, a grin forming on your face as you caught sight of them waiting in the car. 

Dean matched your grin, quickly reaching for the door handle and scrambling outside. “There she is!” he greeted happily, opening the back door for you. 

“Fucking idiot,” Sam muttered to himself, staring out the window with an amused grin as you and Dean settled into your seats. 

The three of you made it back in no time, and, having to settle for a single bed when first getting to town over driving for another who-knows-how-long just to find another motel, shuffled out of the car and into your shared room with heavy feet.

“Finally,” Dean muttered with relief, shutting the door behind him as Sam took a seat. “Whoa, whoa,” Dean barked, holding up a hand. “What’re you doing?” 

Sam froze just as he sat on the bed, staring up at his brother. “What?” 

“That’s my bed,” Dean declared with a huff. 

“No, it’s not,” Sam answered with a scoff. “It’s your turn for the couch.” 

“Dude, I’m not sleeping on the pull-out!” Dean declared with finality.

“What, are you kidding me?” Sam asked incredulously. “You got the bed last time!” 

“Yeah, and I just got ragdolled by a crazy ass witch, I deserve a mattress!” Dean argued, stepping towards the bed. “Get up.” 

“No,” Sam argued stubbornly, relaxing further atop the sheets. 

“You guys are ridiculous,” you said with an exasperated sigh, walking across the room. “I’ll take the couch.” 

“Not a chance,” Dean denied, not even sparing you a glance. 

“What, why?” you asked in confusion. 

“First of all, I’m not sharing with Sam,” Dean replied, turning to look at you. “Second, you got it worse than I did. I’m not shoving you on a pull-out.” 

“Oh, please-” you started to argue, before he cut you off. 

“I patched you up myself, [Y/N]. Don’t bother trying to lie to me,” he cautioned. 

You opened your mouth to argue once more, but the look on his face stopped you short. “Whatever,” you mumbled, turning towards the bathroom. “I’m getting ready for bed. Figure this out before I get back so I can actually go to bed, please.” 

The bickering resumed as you quickly retreated, shutting the bathroom door on Dean’s disgruntled declaration of “best two out of three.”

By the time you re-entered the room, you were met with silence. Surveying the surroundings, you found Sam digging through his toiletries bag while sitting in his original spot on the bed. Your gaze snapped over to the couch, where Dean sat looking like a kicked puppy. 

“You went with scissors again, didn’t you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He met your gaze as Sam snickered behind you, causing his face to sour even more. “Shut up,” he mumbled before standing, bristling past you with slumped shoulders. 

You chuckled quietly to yourself and grabbed the spare sheets, quickly making up the pull-out for Dean while he got ready; hopefully he’d be a little less cranky about it all if this was at least already done. 

Once finished, you made your way over to the bed and curled up under the covers. After saying a quick goodnight to Sam, you were asleep before Dean even left the bathroom. 

Fear gnawed at Dean, his body frozen in place as a cold spread through him, panic clinging to him like ice. He tried to call out to you, but all that left him was a strangled breath as his lungs seized up. He watched as the waves carried you away, further and further from where he stood. By the time his legs finally moved to carry him closer to shore, his feet were so heavy it was as though he was wading through quicksand. 

“No, no, no,” he pleaded quietly, watching as the waters edge never grew near no matter how far he ran. 

Your voice cried out to him, surging him forward even faster as you drifted ever outwards, terror seeping deeper into his bones with every futile step he took.

He couldn’t reach you. 

He couldn’t save you. 

The realisation that you were gone caused his world to come crashing down around him as he fell to his knees. A roaring filled his ears, and he didn’t know whether it was the irascible water that held you captive or the blood racing from his pounding heart. 

As he stayed there - watching the crashing waves for any sign of you, listening for a call of his name, unwilling to move for fear he’d miss you - the water suddenly crept up around him, as if to mock him. 

The sky darkened as he let out an anguished cry, his voice blending in with the storm beginning to brew around him. Yet despite the deafening howls, he heard it clear as day: your voice, calling out to him.  

“Dean.”

The world stilled around him once more, your voice ringing out in a whisper as gentle as the wind. 

“Dean.” 

He stood, frantically searching the horizon for you. He tried to call out, yet his voice still never came. 

“Dean!” you called out, voice booming like thunder from above. 

A small hand gripped his own, pulling him so forcefully he was yanked off his feet. He let out a startled cry, a spark of lightning igniting so brightly before him that he screwed his eyes shut. 

“God dammit, Dean!” 

Another force shook him, and when we reopened his eyes, he was met with the suspiciously stained ceiling of the motel room. He bolted upright, heart hammering against his chest as he looked around. He caught your worried gaze as he wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to steady his breathing as you leaned in closer. 

“[Y/N?]” he gasped out, pushing himself further upright.

His hand reached out automatically, fingers tentatively brushing against your cheek as if to evaluate your solidity. When he was satisfied that you wouldn’t evaporate, he surged forward to wrap you in a desperate embrace; the icy grip of terror finally starting to melt. 

“It was just a nightmare, De,” you soothed quietly, tracing a hand along his back. “Everything’s alright.”

“Yeah,” he said tightly, swallowing the lump forming in his throat as he let you go. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m alright, get back to bed.” 

“You’re okay?” you questioned, concern laced in both your face and tone of voice. 

“I’m okay,” he affirmed with a nod, casting his gaze aside so you wouldn’t see the panic still swirling within him. 

“Okay,” you said softly, placing a gentle kiss upon the crown of his head before standing from the edge of the pull-out. 

Dean got up after you to grab a glass of water, his heart jumping in his chest as he remembered the sight of you being ripped away by the current. 

“Just a nightmare,” he reminded himself under his breath. “Just a nightmare.” 

Not having slept another wink after his nightmare, Dean was unsurprisingly the first one up the next morning. Taking it upon himself to get breakfast for the three of you, he found himself at the nearest diner waiting for his order. 

Drumming his fingers impatiently on the sticky linoleum counter, a burning desire to call you began to build within him. Knowing you were likely still sleeping, he decided to busy himself with a stupid game you downloaded on his phone. 

Yet the urge to reach out to you grew tenfold as he sat there, a sinking feeling that it might mean you were in danger starting to take hold of him. Just as his mind began to swirl with questions of what the hell was going on with him, he heard your voice calling his name. 

His head snapped up, expecting to see you sliding onto the stool beside him, ready to give you hell for walking here in search of him all by yourself in a random town. He figured you must’ve known he was here, and it wouldn’t have been a far walk from the motel, but it was still stupid.

Though the words died on his tongue as he realized you weren’t there, and that familiar feeling of dread trickled through him after scanning the diner and not finding you anywhere. 

Another voice called out, this time the waitress, announcing that his order was ready. He met her smiling face with nothing but confusion, her smile faltering for a moment.

“Everything alright?” she asked hesitantly.

“Huh?” he asked, before snapping out of his daze. “Oh, yeah. Just a little too early for me. Thanks-” he paused, squinting to read her name tag. “Thanks, Edna,” he charmed, flashing his signature grin as he gathered the order. 

“Anytime, sugar,” she charmed, her smile perking back up as she sent him a wink. 

With one last - albeit awkward - grin sent her way, Dean quickly left the diner; already feeling lighter for knowing he’d be back at the motel soon. His grin only grew when he glanced across the street and caught a glimpse of you staring back at him, proving that he wasn’t crazy and you really did come to meet him. 

He took a step forward, intending to call out to you, when a truck drove by and blocked you from sight. The grin was wiped from his face and the coffee tray nearly slipped out of his hand when he noticed you had completely disappeared in its wake. 

Fearing the worst once more, he scrambled into the car and quickly called you, firing Baby to life as the line rang. 

“Hey,” you answered with a stifled yawn. “Please tell me you’re getting breakfast. And coffee.” 

“Yeah, I-” he faltered in his response, having to let out a breath of relief as he realized you were safe and sound. “I’ll be back in a few, you and Sammy still there?” 

“Where else would we be?” you asked with a giggle. 

While the sound would normally bring a smile to his face, your words only caused a frown to appear. “You only waking up now?” 

“Don’t judge me,” you teased. “It’s only… ten after seven, I barely slept in.” 

“Just not used to being up before you,” he lied, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. 

“Miracles really do happen,” you joked with a laugh. “You sound weird, is everything okay?” you added, worry tinting your voice. 

“Hm?” he wondered, not processing your question right away. “Oh, no- yeah, I-... just didn’t get much sleep.”

“Right,” you said, teetering on the edge of believing him or not. 

“Really, I’m good,” he assured, sensing your apprehension. “I just gotta catch some z’s and I’ll be good as new.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few then,” you relented. “Drive safe,” you added as an afterthought before hanging up.   

The line went dead as he stopped at a red light, his stomach churning as he stared at his reflection in the rearview.

“Just need some sleep,” he assured himself. 

“Dude, would you quit it with the pacing?” Sam snapped, setting his book down on the table for sheer lack of concentration. 

Dean stopped just long enough to stare daggers at his brother before marching down the library once more. “She’s been gone too long.” 

“She’s been gone an hour,” Sam informed, hands running over his face in exasperation. 

“Exactly,” Dean replied, pointing a finger at Sam in acknowledgment. “Something must’ve happened.” 

“Dude, she’s at the grocery store. With Jack. What the hell could possibly happen?” 

“I don’t know!” Dean exclaimed, arms flailing as he whirled to face Sam. “Something must’ve! She hasn’t answered my last text and it’s been-” he paused, pulling out his phone to brandish the screen. “Seven minutes!” 

“Oh, my god,” Sam groaned, tossing his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t deal with this anymore.” 

“What are you talking about? Aren’t you worried?” Dean asked gruffly. 

“No, Dean, I’m not worried! There’s no reason to be worried!” Sam proclaimed. 

“No reason? She could be dead!” Dean barked, his face taking on an expression of disbelief. 

Sam sighed as he leaned over the table, raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let me ask you this: why, exactly, do you think she’s dead?” 

“Oh, come on, Sam!” Dean grumbled. “We don’t exactly live cookie cutter lives here, you know. One minute she’s returning the shopping cart, and the next she’s got a damn knife in her back!” 

“Dean,” Sam soothed. “You know as well as I do that’s a load of crap.” 

“No,” Dean argued, shaking his head. “We don’t know that. We don’t know anything, you know why?” 

Before Sam could even respond, Dean waved his phone around before dropping it on the table. “Because she won’t answer her damn phone!” 

“Okay, this is actually ridiculous,” Sam declared. “How can you seriously not see what’s been happening to you?” 

“Knock it off, Sam,” Dean muttered, waving a hand dismissively as he began pacing again. “I’m fucking fine.” 

“You’re fine,” Sam repeated incredulously. “You’re friggin’ cursed, Dean!” 

“I’m not cursed!” shouted Dean. “Would you quit it with that crap?” 

“Right, because nothing’s been going on with you lately, right?” 

“Right!” Dean agreed with a huff. 

“You haven’t been, say, I don’t know…. not sleeping? Feeling stir crazy? Getting paranoid?”

“Sam-” 

“No, I’m serious, Dean! How can you not see this?” 

“Because I’m fine!” Dean argued, stalling his movements to gather his phone from the table.

After a few moments of silence, Dean rolled his eyes and found himself once more walking the length of the library. “Okay, maybe I’ve been feeling a little weird lately, but I’ve just been tired - and you know what? I survived worse. So yeah, I’m fine!” 

“Right,” Sam said sceptically.  “And have you… noticed when it is that you feel… weird?”

“I don’t know!” Dean announced frustratedly.

“Dean,” Sam chastised. 

“What?” 

“You’ve been feeling like this all week, and it’s only getting worse. You’ve been like this since that witch cursed you - and don’t say she didn’t. Use your fucking head, Dean! You’re cursed!” 

Dean’s jaw clenched as he tried to remain calm, taking a moment to formulate his response. “You’re insane,” he finally declared. 

“I think you’re the insane one,” Sam contested. “You were cursed to yearn for something, Dean. Only in this case… it’s someone.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“C’mon, Dean!” Sam pleaded with a laugh. “The only time you get like this is when you’re more than ten feet away from [Y/N].” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean muttered dismissively. 

“You’ve checked your phone another five times since you picked it up.” 

“So?” Dean questioned, failing to resist the urge to check it once more. “I’m worried, not cursed.” 

“You’re worried because you’re cursed!” Sam argued. 

“I’m worried because I lo-” Dean quickly fell silent as the words died on his tongue, his brain firing into total overdrive as he laughed nervously. “I care, that’s why I’m worried.” 

Sam stared at his brother in total disbelief, trying to find a way to make him realize what was going on- or, most likely, acknowledge what was going on. 

Yet before the conversation could go any further, the bunker door screeched open and the sound of your laughter fleeted down to greet Dean, effectively turning his scowl into an affectionate grin. 

“Hope you remembered my pie!” he called out, marching to meet you at the foot of the stairs without so much as a glance back in Sam’s direction. 

“When have I ever forgotten?” you asked, feigning offence as you held out the bag which contained his pie.

“Well,” he started, taking the bag from you. “There was that time in Redford-”

“Hey!” you interrupted with a laugh. “I didn’t forget, they were out!”

“See, I still don’t believe you,” he teased, heading for the kitchen. 

“Believe whatever you want, Dean,” you replied playfully. 

“I’m still waiting for it, you know. You should get me two next time,” he joked, though he was partly serious. 

“Dean?” Sam’s voice tentatively called out.

“Yeah?” Dean replied hotly, keeping his back to Sam as he went to grab a beer from the fridge. 

“Who, uh… who the hell are you talking to?” he asked carefully, surveying the empty kitchen. 

“Hilarious, Sam,” he said dryly, shutting the fridge. “I’m talking to-”

His mouth ran dry as he turned around, being met with just his brother, who was staring with concern from the doorway. 

“[Y/N],” Dean finished weakly. 

“Her and Jack aren’t back yet, Dean,” Sam said carefully, as though talking to a lost child. 

“Yes, they are. They got back, she gave me my pie, we came in here,” Dean said fiercely, his confidence shattering when he went to gesture at the pie he set down moments earlier and found it to be gone.  

“Maybe you should sit down,” Sam suggested, not knowing what to do. 

“I’m fine!” Dean shouted, hovering over the counter. “I’m fine,” he repeated, moreso to himself than anything. 

“Okay, look, how about I try calling [Y/N], okay?” Sam offered, hesitantly walking further into the kitchen. “See when they’ll be back.” 

“They are back!” Dean barked, glaring at Sam. “She was just in here!” 

Sam didn’t know what to say, the fear and concern for his brother crashing down on him. 

“She was just in here,” Dean repeated shakily, meeting Sam’s gaze with confusion. 

“Dean,” Sam started to say, before the familiar tone of your ringtone came from Dean’s phone, cutting through the air like a knife. 

Dean pulled the phone from his pocket, clearing his throat before answering. “Yeah?” 

“Dean, thank god,” you cheered, sighing in relief. “Listen, we came out to a flat tire and I don’t have a spare because I forgot to fucking replace it and there are too many people around for Jack to, you know, try fixing it,” you rambled anxiously. “Can you please come help?” 

“You’re still at the store?” Dean clarified, looking up at Sam with frightened eyes. 

“Yeah, we’re stuck in the parking lot,” you told him breezily. 

“Okay,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Alright, I’ll be right there.” 

“Thanks, De!” you said happily, ending the call. 

Dean stood there for a few moments staring down at his unopened bottle of beer on the counter, trying to gather his thoughts, before finally lifting his gaze to Sam.

“I’ll, uh…. I’ll be back,” he told him, not waiting for a response before trudging out of the kitchen.

You found yourself yet again rushing down the hall to Dean’s room, his muffled yells waking you in the dead of night once more. 

He uttered your name as you shut the door behind you, and though it took you by surprise the very first time it happened - nearly two weeks ago, now - it was something you’ve almost come to expect. It was killing you, watching him go through this every night and not being able to fix it. You would sit with him, find ways to gently rouse him from his terror filled slumber and comfort him when he woke, but it never seemed like enough; he deserved more.

At first you didn’t think there was too much going on, figuring his shift in behaviour was just due to his lack of sleep. You didn’t believe Sam when he talked to you about it; Dean may have been acting a little more strange than usual, but it didn’t raise any red flags.

It wasn’t until the morning following your conversation that you noticed it, cluing in and realising how different Dean had been; how long he’d been different. The excess text messages, the increase in phone calls, the insistence on you not going anywhere without him and his exuberant reactions to you getting back safe when you did go somewhere without him, his constant questioning on where you were or where you’ve just been. Something else was going on, and you could only think it really did come down to the witch you two encountered.  So you and Sam called up Rowena, getting her take on the situation and figuring out what to do. 

Her words now echoed through your head as you perched yourself on the edge of his bed: “Magic isn’t simple. Some curses are anchored by the witch, ending whenever they were to die. But others are more complex, rooted not in the witch but the object of the curse itself, not breaking until their purpose is carried out one way or another. Perhaps if you can figure out what it is Dean needs, you can break the curse yourselves. If this carries on for any longer… I’m worried it will kill him.” 

While you ran your fingers through his hair, you decided right then and there that once he woke up, you wouldn’t leave without confronting him about it. You knew it would likely start a fight, and you felt a little guilty knowing you would all but interrogate him right after having another nightmare, but all that guilt flew right out the window the second Dean startled himself awake, the sight of his panic stricken face as he gasped for air nearly bringing you to tears; you’ve seen him like this too often as of late. 

“It’s alright, Dean,” you soothed, reaching out to him. “I’m right here, everything’s fine.” 

His gaze snapped to you, unable to hide the confusion and terror still coursing through him despite the relief he felt. “[Y/N]?” 

“Yeah, De,” you cooed, running a hand across his shoulder blades. “We’re in your room, everyone’s okay.” 

He let out a shuddering breath, hanging his head in his hands. “You’re okay,” he whispered softly. “You’re okay.” 

You sat quietly with him for a few more minutes, patiently comforting him as best as you could while you thought of how to approach this conversation. 

Clearing his throat, Dean was the first to speak again as he rose from the bed. “Sorry I woke you again.” 

The dejection and shame laced in his voice tore your heart to bits, and you had to put up a good fight to keep your emotions in check. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

“Yeah, I do,” he disagreed, trudging to his sink in the corner. 

“Dean, please talk to me,” you pleaded, watching as he turned on the water. 

You fell silent, waiting for him to deny you and brush you off again. You waited for him to say something, to do something, but all he did was stare at the running water. 

“Dean?” you asked cautiously, slowly getting up from the bed yourself. 

“I can’t save you,” he muttered quietly, his gaze on the faucet unyielding. 

“What?” you asked curiously, not knowing what he meant. 

“I can never save you,” he carried on. “You always just… slip away from me. Every time. It’s always the same.” 

“What’s always the same?” you questioned, moving closer towards him. 

“I try,” he muttered, seemingly oblivious to your presence. “I run, and I fight, and I try, but I can never reach you. I can never get to you.”

He seemed to snap out of his daze a little, moving to splash water over his face before turning off the tap. “You keep dying. I keep watching you die. I can’t watch you die again, [Y/N]. I can’t.” 

“This is what your nightmares have been?” you wondered. 

He fell silent again for a minute before meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Yeah.” 

“It’s not real, Dean,” you told him softly.

“It’s real enough for me,” he muttered, turning to face you. 

“And is this why you’ve been… acting differently towards me?” you asked hesitantly. 

He averted his gaze, hanging his head as he considered your question. “I guess,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe, yeah. I don’t know.” 

“Dean,” you scolded with a sigh, plopping back down on the bed. “Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on?” 

“Because everything’s fine!” he argued once again. 

“I’m not stupid, Dean!” you challenged. “I know you. I can see something's eating you alive and it’s fucking killing me to witness it. So please, tell me what the hell is going on.” 

“It’s just nightmares,” he lied, crossing his arms against his chest. 

“It’s more than nightmares!” you cried. “You’re withering away into nothing, Dean! I mean let’s face it! You’re practically a zombie nowadays with how little sleep you get, you’ve been acting like a puppy with separation anxiety, and let’s not forget how completely erratic you’ve been.”

He glared at you, jaw clenching as he decided whether or not to entertain this conversation. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t slept lately,” he admitted starkly. “But like I keep saying, I’m fine.” 

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying?” you sneered, glaring up at him. 

He rolled his eyes, averting his gaze to anywhere else as he shook his head. “No, but I’m getting tired of having this conversation all the time.” 

“Well too bad!” you yelled, abruptly standing from the bed. “Cause I’m tired of never having this conversation go anywhere! I’m tired of you brushing off the idea of you being cursed. I didn’t believe it at first either, but what the hell else could it be, Dean?” 

“Oh, come on!” he barked, running a hand over his face. “I see Sam got his hooks into you.” 

“Yeah, he did. And you need to listen to us.” 

“No, I really don’t,” he scoffed, starting to head to the door. 

“Even if it kills you?” you blurted out. 

“It’s not gonna kill me!” 

“God, look at you, Dean! It already is!” you argued, marching closer to him. “How would you feel if the situation were reversed?” 

He let out a sigh, pausing with his hand on the doorknob before turning back to you. “What?” 

“What if it were me going through all this instead of you? Would you let me get away with not even listening to you and Sam?” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, staring at you in silence for so long you expected him to turn away again. Instead, he let out a deep breath as he took a seat, gesturing for you to carry on. “Five minutes.” 

You almost went to argue before you thought better of it, knowing full well that if Dean never came around to the theory he would actually cut you off at the five minute mark. So, you did your best to recount the entire situation for him, reiterating what you, Sam, and Rowena had to say about it all in the hopes of getting through to him. By the time you finished, you knew it was well over five minutes, so you took Dean not interrupting you to be a good sign. 

“Okay,” he finally said with a small nod. “Well, I listened. Can I go now?” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach, anger and fear bubbling inside of you as you exploded. “God, you are unbelievable!”

“Well what do you want me to say?” he grumbled. “I just don’t believe that’s what’s going on.” 

“How can you not believe it?” you asked incredulously. “It’s obvious!” 

“Look, I said I don’t believe it, alright?” Dean snapped. “Why are you so hellbent on making this into some big fight? Just accept it.” 

“No!” you seethed. “I can’t just accept the fact that this could kill you. Especially not when there’s a way we could end this.” 

“No,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “You can’t fix this, [Y/N/N]. You just can’t.” 

“I can!” you cried. “Just tell me.” 

“Tell you what?” 

“You know what,” you scolded. 

“This is so fucking ridiculous.” 

“Tell me anyway.” 

“Why the hell do you care so much?” he questioned exasperatedly. 

“Because I’m fucking terrified, Dean!” you exclaimed. “I’ve watched you grow more restless and anxious every day since the night we finished that case. I’ve seen the life drain from you more and more as sleep became nearly impossible for you. And I know it’s nearly impossible for you, because I have spent the last eleven nights sitting on that bed as you got terrorised by your own mind. I don’t care if you believe in this curse or not, Dean, because I do.” 

Dean stood quietly, absorbing what you said as the severity of the situation began to dawn on him. 

“I mean don’t you get it?” you asked sadly, cutting through the silence. “If something happens to you, if I lose you… that’s not something I can come back from.” 

Dean fell silent once more, running a hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, pacing around the room a little as he turned everything over in his head. 

“I’m scared, Dean,” you reiterated softly. “Please, just let us try to fix this.” 

“There’s some things I should tell you, then,” he admitted quietly after a moment of silence, taking a seat on the bed. 

“About what’s been happening?” you asked hopefully. 

He nodded, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. “Yeah.” 

“Okay,” you said, moving his desk chair to take a seat. “I’m listening.” 

He took a bracing breath, taking a few minutes to build the courage to speak. “Well, you know I’ve been having nightmares.” 

“I do,” you agreed quietly. 

“It’s always the same one,” he admitted, keeping his gaze cast downwards. “I could never figure out why. It didn't make sense to me why it was always the same thing. So I finally talked to Sam about it, and he had a pretty good theory. But, you know me. I didn’t want to believe it because it came back down to that witch and this stupid fucking curse.” 

He let out a bitter laugh, pausing long enough for you to speak up. “What did he have to say about it?” 

“I tried telling myself I was fine,” he continued, ignoring your question. “I was fine, at first. At first it was just not sleeping well… but then other things started happening.” 

“Other things like what?” you wondered quietly. 

“Like my blood feeling like it’s on fucking fire,” he muttered, wiping at his face. “And my skin feeling like it-… like it’s being peeled off my goddamn bones, and my face feeling like it’s melting… and how I get this- this bubble inside my chest that feels like it’s either gonna burst or suffocate me and how it all only happens-” he stopped in his rambling, taking a deep breath before chuckling in disbelief. “God, it only happens when you’re not around, [Y/N].” 

“I-... what do you mean?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Oh, come on, [Y/N],” he said bitterly. “I know you’ve noticed. I text you more, I’m almost always calling you. I just- I get this… this unwavering panic inside me when you’re not around. I keep-... I swear to god I see you everywhere when you’re gone. I catch sight of you across the street, I smell your stupid shampoo when I’m alone, I hear your voice when no one’s there. I had an entire conversation with you and you weren’t even there,” he carried on, shaking his head as he briskly wiped away an angry tear. “God, I’m going fucking crazy,” he added with a manic chuckle. 

“You’re not crazy, Dean,” you said gently. 

“That night,” he started, staring at the wall across from him. “She was trying to get back someone she lost… someone she loved.” 

“Right,” you agreed. 

“They used to drown them, people they accused of being witches,” he continued slowly. 

“Yeah, it was pretty common. Sink, and you were innocent. Float, and you were guilty,” you pitched in. “But… what does that have to do with this?”

“I think they were innocent,” he said simply. “Whoever she lost… I think that’s how she lost them.” 

“Why do you think that?” you asked curiously. 

Dean cleared his throat, staring pensively at his hands once more. “The nightmares. It’s always… you always drown. I keep-... I can never save you.” 

“I don’t get-” you started to say, before he cut you off. 

“It’s how she lost who she loves, [Y/N],” he said curtly. “It makes sense for me to see the one I love go the same way.” 

“I-... what?” you asked, too stunned to think of anything else to say. 

“The dreams, the hallucinations, the- the way I’ve been feeling… I didn’t want to admit it, I still don’t, but I can’t… I mean I can only ignore it for so long, right?” he said, scoffing quietly. “Especially with you and Sam breathing down my neck about it.” 

“Ignore what, Dean?” you asked breathlessly, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“You,” he muttered. “They way I feel about you. The way I’ve always felt about you.” 

You didn’t dare respond, his words ringing in your ears as he fell silent, each of you lost in your own thoughts for a while. 

“I’ve always known that I love you, [Y/N/N],” he carried on, slowly meeting your gaze with glistening eyes. “But this… this curse, this whatever it is. God, it’s just made it all so much worse, and I knew. I knew it was you that my entire being was screaming out for but I couldn’t… I couldn’t admit it.” 

“Why not?” you asked shakily, feeling your tears starting to build. 

“How could I put that on you?” he asked, a few rogue tears slipping down his face. “You said it yourself, this thing is killing me. It’s gonna kill me, unless I get what I want, and given that that’s you, I’m calling it game over.” 

“No, Dean, it’s not,” you denied with a sniffle, cutting through your own stray tears. “You should’ve told me.” 

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, shrugging lightly as he looked back at his hands. “I told you now.” 

“Dean,” you sighed, wiping your face as you stood from your seat. “Do you trust me?” you asked, walking towards him.

“Of course I do,” he said quickly, almost offended by the question. 

“Okay, well, I’ll need you to trust me on this,” you replied, stopping just in front of where he sat. 

“Okay,” he said with a huff. 

“You gotta look at me, though,” you said, laughing softly. 

Sighing dejectedly, he slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze, a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips as he looked at you. 

You smiled softly at him, gently taking his face in your hands before wordlessly bringing your lips down to meet his. At first, neither of you really knew what was happening, and just when you thought to pull away you felt his lips moving against your own. His hands gripped your waist to hold you in place a moment longer before you each pulled away, staring silently at each other as you processed what just happened. 

“What, uh… what was that for?” Dean finally asked. 

“Well, it was either that or slapping some sense into you,” you said playfully. “Which I almost think you still deserve, because I can’t believe you honestly think I don’t love you back.” 

“What?” he asked, his grip on your waist loosening in shock before tightening once more. 

“You’ve had me since the day we met, Dean,” you told him softly, carding your fingers through his hair. 

“You actually…” he trailed off quietly, trying to focus his thoughts. “You actually love me, of all people?” 

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I do.” 

“So I- well, I guess I could’ve saved a lot of trouble if I really did just tell you, huh?” he asked jokingly, laughing tightly. 

“I’ll give you hell for it tomorrow,” you teased, half serious. “For now, how about we try getting you back to sleep?” 

“Actually,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a better idea involving this bed.” 

You couldn’t help but snort a laugh, grinning fondly at him. “Oh, really?” 

He grinned back, laughing with you before taking on a more sombre tone. “Do you trust me?” 

“Always,” you said honestly. 

“Good,” he replied with a grin, laughing heartily at the shriek you let out when he tossed you on the bed. 

He stared down at you, a look you’ve never seen before painted on his face. “What?” you asked, giggling nervously.

“I love you,” he said earnestly, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. 

“I love you, too,” you replied shyly, grinning softly. 

He matched your grin, drinking you in a moment longer before crashing his lips upon yours once more. 

When Dean woke the next morning, it didn’t take long for a grin to spread across his face as he quickly realized two things. 

The first thing being that you, the love of his life, still remained tangled up in both his arms and the sheets, sleeping peacefully atop his chest. 

The second being that, for the first time in a total of thirteen days, he was able to sleep without being haunted by his nightmares. 

He felt you stir, and his grin widened as you nestled in closer, tightening your grip on him as you slept. He planted a kiss against your temple, pulling you in close as he blissfully settled in for another peaceful rest. 

Maybe witches aren’t so bad.

tagging: @roseblue373

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[mioons]

‎ ‎ BOYFRIEND? HUSBAND! ✦ 我的老公！

ᐢ..ᐢ calling them your husband trend ✿ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝓁𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗑 𝒻𝖾𝗆. 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ⟢ ( 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖾𝗌𝗍. 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 ) . . 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 638 ⟡

EN— | 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 ♥︎ CLiCK

LEE HEESEUNG

the moment he heard the word husband leave your pretty lips he was a blushing mess

bro tried to act nonchalant but ended up giggling throughout the whole recording

even after recording he was smiling to himself like a lovesick idiot

“hey everyone today i’m here with my husband and we’ll be rating flavours from wingstop!” you cheerfully said to the camera, making sure to place emphasis on the word ‘husband’.

when he first heard you, he thought he was hearing things and asked, “sorry baby could you repeat that?”

you flashed him a smug smile before repeating your sentence, “so today i’ll be rating wingstop flavours with my husband.”

if he heard the same word two times he was sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

throughout the whole recording of the video, he couldn’t stop smiling and holding your hand, peppering kisses to the back of them.

the title ‘husband’ sounded good on him.

PARK JONGSEONG

he would definitely be stunned at first, not knowing how to react and simply just staring into space

but after awhile his mood would be so much better than before

smiling at the camera, you waved with your one hand and held onto jay’s arm with the other. “hey guys! i’m here with my husband and we’re just doing a mini vlog!”

jay’s eyes almost fell out of their sockets. your voice sounded like a sweet sounding melody to him that he could listen to forever.

the thought of him actually becoming your husband made his heart beat a little too fast for his own good. he was really trying to keep his composure but there were one or two cracks.

he decided to play it cool and nodded his head before humming, “mhmhm.”

“husband,” he whispered into your hair as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “sounds wonderful.”

SIM JAEYUN

this man would not stop bringing up throughout the whole recording of the video

always making small little remarks about him being your “husband” and you being his “wife”

his confidence went 🆙 and he wouldn’t stop flirting with you

jake smiled at the camera as you started talking, introducing yourselves to the viewers. “hi everyone! it’s me and i’m here with my husband, jake, and today we’ll be doing a short Q&A session!”

“husband?” he repeated and raised an eyebrow at you, his lips upturned into a smile. “i’m your husband baby?”

his voice was smooth like velvet, making you blush and giggle awkwardly, “uhm..”

jake could only press a kiss to your forehead as he looked back at the camera. “mhm, i’m here with my wife,” he said to the camera, placing more stress on the word ‘wife’ just to make you even more flustered.

“let’s answer the first question hm? my darling wife.”

PARK SUNGHOON

many people think he wouldn’t have an reaction but this man would turn into putty in your hands

he can’t even finish a sentence without stuttering and tripping over his words

couldn’t even maintain eye contact with you for more than 5 seconds

“hi guys! it’s yn and today i have my husband, hoonie with us! we’ll be trying out two types of boba today!” you said, grinning from ear to ear.

sunghoon’s brain immediately shut down, his mouth slightly agape as he stared at you.

“cmon hoonie, say hi to the viewers,” you nudged him by the shoulder, giggling. oh you definitely knew the effect you had on him, no doubt about that.

he gave the camera a lopsided smile, “hi— e-everyone.” anyone could tell he was affected by you calling him your ‘husband’.

you giggled at his introduction, leaning forward to press a kiss onto his cheek. “what a shy husband i have hm?”

taglist ╱ @en-gelic @flwrstqr @wonsdoll @dioll @won4kiss @suneng @tzyunaes @jakesangel

[gghostwriter]

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

They are friends, but Spencer is in love with her. Spencer gets in one accident and thinks she is more than a friend. He believes she is his wife. (Happy ending, please)

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem! Reader Trope: Friends to Lovers; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Medical inaccuracies A/N: Reader is part of the BAU, hope that's alright. I had fun writing this, hope you enjoy anon! Main masterlist

Hallucinate. // Spencer Reid

It was Morgan’s turn—based on Garcia’s glitter paper schedule, to keep watch of Reid lying uncomfortably still on the hospital bed. The team was out for a local case—a series of murders that targeted male divorcees. They’ve profiled the unsub to be male in his late 20s, shy in nature, and comes from a broken household. The profile was correct. The team just didn’t factor in the possibility of another unsub—a subservient willing to do anything to let the dominant evade capture, including intentionally ramming a four door sedan to a government owned vehicle. The same vehicle that Reid and JJ were driving to the unsub’s residence. 

Spencer’s finger twitched, bringing his guardian out of his musings. “Reid. Reid,” the dark skinned agent called out.

A series of whispers escaped the patient’s mouth. “W’fe—” Spencer wetted his lips. “Wife, where—wife?” 

“Kid, what wife?” Morgan’s brows furrowed. As far as he knew, Reid wasn’t married. All he had was a tongue twisting, IQ dropping crush on the newest BAU addition, you. 

Spencer tried once more. “Y/N. Y/N, my wife—where?”

And as if you heard his pleas, you quietly entered the hospital room. Tilting your head to the side, silently questioning why Morgan was standing very close to Spencer. The agent smirked at your presence and waved you to come close. 

“Spence?” You asked, taking his hand into yours. His fingers cold, and for a moment, it reminded you of how still he was when he was pulled out of the driver’s seat. 

His eyes flickered under the lids. “Y/N. Wife—y’safe?” 

“I’m here, Spencer. Safe,” you murmured in a soft tone as you note that his hazel eyes were glassy and unfocused. A physical manifestation from the concussion that the physician had theorized when he was admitted. 

He turned his head to the sound of your voice in comfort before tightening his hold and his pupils blowing wide. “Wife—the baby? Is—baby okay?”

Your eyes widened in return. “What?” 

“Aurora—she, strapped in car seat, I need—need to see her,” his voice getting louder and louder as he unsuccessfully tried to push himself out of bed. 

You gently pushed his shoulders. “She’s—she’s fine, Spence. The team has her,” you coaxed him to relax back. Morgan cleared his throat beside you, clearly trying to not let a chuckle escape. 

“Good—good. Safe.” Spencer was locked in a hallucination where you were married and had a child, a girl—Aurora. You pictured a tiny long haired brunette with his waves, clinging to Spencer’s neck and smiling at you, a set of innocent hazel eyes looking at you with such adoration and trust. 

“Wife—you, love you,” he mumbled before closing his eyes and falling back to unconsciousness. 

Morgan took that as his cue and turned to face you—still clutching Spencer’s hand—with mirth dancing on his face. “Damn. Wife and kid huh, pretty boy sure moves fast.” 

You felt your cheeks grow warm. “It’s the concussion talking.”

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that. Y’know I heard he said the same thing when Emily was keeping watch,” he paused dramatically to watch your reaction. “But there was no kid—that’s new.” 

“What. I—we’re friends,” you jested. Even to your ears it sounded like a feeble excuse.

Morgan appraised your reddened cheeks, your free hand repeatedly raking your hair, and your lips tucked between your teeth. His well experienced profiler eyes cataloging everything. “As I said, pretty girl, keep telling yourself that.” 

———

A few days later, away from the Morgan and Emily’s constant teasing, it was your turn to keep Spencer who was now alert and awake , company. His eyes darted all around the room, finding everything and anything interesting, except you.

“Spencer? You alright?” You sat on the chair near his bed.

He cleared his throat. “Morgan—Morgan said I called you—” his voice trailing off at the end, too hesitant and mortified to repeat what his fantasy conjured up and what his lips had let escaped in his state of confusion and vulnerability. 

“Uh—yeah. Yeah, you did.” 

“And that we—”

You nodded as you watched his blush travel down from his cheeks to neck.

“I also said that I—”

“That you love me?” You clarified in a whisper.

“You did.” 

He covered his face in chagrin. Spencer wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole or better yet, for all of this to be just a dream—a horrible dream. It was no secret to the team, except for you, that he had feelings for you. Amazed with how your mind noticed patterns in cases, grateful with how you actively listen to his conjectures, and stunned with how beautiful you look even on cases that leak into the late nights—how could he not fall in love with someone as incredible as you. It was impossible, trust him, he tried to deny it to himself and to others. He mumbled something in reply but his hands muffled it too much to understand. 

“What was that?” You asked.

He repeated again but made no move to remove his hands.

You sighed. “Spence, I really can’t understand.”

He steeled his nerves before facing you, without a blockage this time. “According to studies, hallucinations are simply a result of neurons firing incorrectly. But I-I meant it. What I said, I mean.”

Silence ensued. He’s been your ride or die since you entered the BAU. Your partner on cases and your person off cases. Penelope always teased you two together—attached to the hip. Like some magnets that need to move in unison, that need to be within reaching distance. “Oh.” 

His shoulders drooped, taking that as a sign of rejection. He wished he could have kept his mouth shut. He’d rather be your close friend than be an awkward colleague.

“It’s not like that,” you hurriedly explained. “I—it’s just—take me out on a date first,” your cheeks enflamed as the idea of progressing your relationship beyond what it was now excited and set butterflies on your stomach.

He perked up and smiled. “Okay, yeah. I can do that.” 

You watched as his hand slowly crept towards yours, stopping an inch away, as if waiting for your permission. You took the initiative and intertwined yours with his, watching him shudder from the warmth and settled back into bed. 

“Okay,” you breathed out. 

He didn’t let go of your hand even when Morgan entered the room to relieve you from watch duty. The profiler zeroed in and opened his mouth, unable to stop himself from teasing the blushing couple.

“So love birds, since you already named your first kid Aurora. How about naming the next one Derek?” 

My inbox is currently open for any more fluff requests! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[pathologicalreid]

Spencer x fem!reader fic based on “Work Song” by Hozier?? Whatever storyline or category you want!!

work song | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, near death experience, blood, gunshot wound, hospitals. word count: 1.77k a/n: hozier song request makes my brain go brr. i hope the people of tumblr enjoy this bc i most definitely enjoyed writing it.

boys, when my baby found me

Your hair whipped your face as you spun around through the labyrinth of a warehouse that your team had found themselves in. It seemed like an impossible task, trying to navigate this space, but you had already cleared over half of the space.

A small noise, like a shoe squeaking, caught your attention, causing your ears to rise like an animal hunting for prey. Turning a corner, you had your flashlight and firearm raised, coming face to face with Morgan. The both of you relaxed ever so slightly, no longer ready to pounce.

Ricocheting throughout the warehouse, you heard a deafening gunshot. The sound bounced off of the metal walls of the building, making it almost impossible for you to determine where the sound originated from. Meeting Morgan’s eyes, he nodded his head to the left, signaling for you to go that way while he went right.

You affirmed his tactics, turning slowly and making your way to the left. The rusted building was now so eerily quiet that goosebumps were sprouting across your body, even under your bureau jacket.

Continuing your way down the narrow passageway, you saw movement inside of a room. Sliding your back along the wall, you peeked into the room, seeing two bodies on the ground. You whispered almost imperceptibly into your radio, calling for medical. One of them was the local officer that the BAU had been working the case with.

The other one was Spencer.

You pivoted so that you were entirely in the doorway, facing the UnSub, he raised his gun at you, but you were already pulling the trigger, hitting him square in the forehead. Breathing heavily, you lowered your firearm before scrambling over to Spencer.

I didn’t care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her

In your ear, you could hear Morgan shouting, “Y/N, Reid, sound off, dammit!”

Something needed to happen. You needed to do something, but you had such severe tunnel vision that the only thing you could think about was Spencer.

He was gasping for air on the metal ground of the warehouse, lying in a pool of his own blood. You observed in horror as the red puddle spread with each passing moment.

Launching into action, you tugged your jacket off, stuffing the fabric onto Spencer’s side in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Even Kevlar vests had an Achilles heel, and the UnSub had managed to strike him precisely where there was a gap in the material. All the while, you were muttering the words, “Stay awake.” Just those two words, over and over again, like a prayer.

You hummed, using one hand to apply pressure to his wound and lifting the other so that you could smooth his hair back. His skin was alarmingly clammy, and you knew that, even with your attempts, he was losing too much blood. “Y/N,” he muttered, sounding like he was using all of his strength to say your name.

Gently, you hushed him, “It’s okay, Spence. Don’t talk, you’re gonna be just fine,” you insisted as his blood soaked through the knees of your jeans. You weren’t sure who you were trying to console at that moment.

“It makes sense-“ he said, being cut off by a cough, sending blood spurting out of his mouth. If his lung was collapsing, there was nothing you’d be able to do. You tried to shush him again, but he had more to say – he almost always did. “That I’d see you while I’m dying.”

Choking on tears, you leaned your face onto your shoulder so that you could wipe them away without moving your hands. “I’m here, I’m really here,” you urged, he wasn’t hallucinating, and he wasn’t dying. Not on your watch. “It’s me, Spence. I’m right here,” you told him carefully.

He opened his mouth again to speak, and you wanted to tell him to save his strength. You also didn’t want to deprive him of his words. “You…” his voice trailed off as he searched for the words, “You’ve always been my favorite dream.”

Sniffling, you shake your head, “I’m not a dream, I’m right here.” You told him, watching carefully as his eyelids grew seemingly heavier, “baby, open your eyes.”

in the low lamplight I was free

His skin was pallid. Even in the dim, orange light of the warehouse, you could see a sickly sheen forming on his skin. His body temperature was dropping, and it was all you could do to not cover his body with yours as you tried to keep him warm. “Spencer, please,” you rasped, urging him to open his eyes.

Your only solace was that his chest was still rising and falling. His breathing was rickety, but he was still breathing, and that had to count for something. “Spencer,” you cried, watching as blood sept through your jacket, flooding between your fingers as you tried to keep him in one piece.

“Love, open your eyes,” you begged, your eyes flooding with tears until everything was just a blur of red.

His heart was beating, you could feel it beneath your hands. A weak, unsteady beat under your trembling hands. “Baby, please, oh my god,” you pleaded, verging toward incoherent babbling.

You were second-guessing if he was still breathing. If his heart was still beating. With that realization, you screamed.

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

At first, you were just screaming, letting the vibrations of your vocal cords portray your emotions, and then you screamed for your team. You had never felt more alone, kneeling in a puddle of Spencer’s blood, and no one was coming to help you.

This couldn’t be how it ended. You refused to acknowledge it, even as you felt the life leave his body.

Leaning your head to the side, you spoke into your radio, “I need medical. I’m in the upper west wing of the building. The suspect is dead, I have an officer and an agent down.” Tears continued to stream down your face.

You heard footsteps behind you as people piled into the room, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off Spencer. Not when there was a chance that it would be the last time you looked at him while you were both still breathing. “Agent,” someone said, but it didn’t register. They kept repeating themselves until two strong arms wrapped around you, dragging you away from Spencer.

Now sat on the floor, you clocked the paramedics that were now frantically working on Spencer, packing his wound, and cutting off the Kevlar vest.

Breathing heavily, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Rossi approached the local officer, checking his pulse. Emily was hovered over the UnSub, collecting his weapon from his corpse.

You were still being firmly held back, trying to pry the tattooed arms of Derek Morgan off of your torso. “Stop, let me get to him. I need to get to him,” you struggled against his grip, but any attempts at freedom were futile. The medics were saying awful things about a weak and thready pulse and pneumothorax.

Clinging to any semblance of hope that you could find, you listened to them talk about Spencer’s pulse, knowing that a pulse meant he was alive.

Your breathing quickened as you looked up at Morgan, Hotch was hovering behind the two of you, “I should’ve called for medical sooner.” Your voice was miserable, you had sat there with your jacket to his side for far too long. He could’ve gotten help from professionals.

“You radioed almost five minutes ago for medical,” Morgan informed you. “The EMTs just couldn’t find you in this damn maze.”

While you had no recollection of calling for help when you first found Spencer, you also knew that Morgan would get no pleasure out of lying to you.

You heard one of the paramedics say there was no pulse, and you didn’t remember anything that followed.

no grave can hold my body down

Crumpled in a ball, you picked at the crusted blood in your fingernails as you focused on the steady beeping of Spencer’s heart monitor.

According to Emily, who had been there when you woke up in the hospital, you had passed out around the time that the medics lost Spencer’s pulse. The doctor said it was just a result of stress. Thanks to some IV fluids and hydroxyzine, you were able to be discharged.

Spencer had been out of surgery for several hours now. The doctors had been careful to use the term “if he wakes up”, while you had made sure to say “when he wakes up.” You were playing the most horrendous waiting game, and there’s nothing worse than playing a game you have no interest in.

You were now donning a pair of black sweatpants and an old Academy t-shirt. Being the only team member permitted to see Spencer while he was still sleeping – girlfriend privileges, as Morgan phrased it – you waited with only the noises of his monitor to keep you company in the ICU.

Nurses came in and out, trying to manage his pain without the use of narcotics, making sure his blood transfusions were helping, and every once in a while, they’d check on you.

At this point, you had been nursing the same cup of ice water for hours, remembering the last thing Spencer had said to you: You’ve always been my favorite dream.

There was something so peculiar about being with someone who read so much, especially when he said such eloquent things while bleeding to death. You sighed, slumping back in the chair, you looked back at Spencer, only to be surprised that he was looking right back at you.

You jumped slightly in the chair, leaning over so that you could look at him, “Hey,” you whispered, maintaining the reverent tones of the Intensive Care Unit. “How do you feel?”

He’d lie to you and tell you he was fine, but you could tell by the way his heart rate increased that it was a lie. His eyebrows furrowed as he clocked the white patient ID bracelet on your wrist and your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been crying,” he observed.

Despite yourself, you smiled softly, “I thought you were dead.” Your voices were each raspy, yours from screaming and his from being intubated.

Slowly, he unfolded his arm so that his hand was extended to you. Without a second thought, you placed your hand in his. He hummed softly, “And leave you? Never.”

I’ll crawl home to her

[greg-montgomery]

Mr. Scratch - Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader

a little hurt/comfort inspired by ep. 10x21 - mr. scratch aaron's hallucination is you getting killed right in front of him. pre-relationship <3 words: 1.6k warnings: basically everything bad that happens in that episode: being drugged, hallucinations, blood, feeling paranoid

Aaron stayed unfazed by the sight of the gun pointed at him; his stare cold and unwavering.

“Oh, that was good. Oh, that was so good,” Peter whispered. “That was so impressive.”

His eyes almost sparkled with excitement as he went on, “The way you got into my head…It makes me want to know how I get into yours.”

A sound from right outside interrupted him and Aaron already knew where it was coming from. His team was there, you were there.

“You were right,” Peter said. “They did come calling for you.”

“They’ll kill you,” he threatened him with the same certainty he knew the sun would come up in the morning.

Peter’s next words though made his heart tremble with fear. “Are you sure about that?”

The dead silence in the house allowed him to focus on every little sound being made. His ears despite having been injured in the past could almost hear the door open. They could almost hear the sound of footsteps. He was certain, you were inside the house.

Peter had disappeared in the darkness and he could only pray you would get to him first. What if you weren’t fast enough? What if he drugged you too? What if-

A gunshot from the next room tore his heart in half.

He cursed himself for being unable to move, frozen in the same place as if he was stuck in the middle of a nightmare. Someone was being hurt and he was too weak to help; too slow to save them.

More gunshots followed, he thought he heard someone scream.

And then he heard you. “Hotch!”

Your voice was desperate, scared. But it meant you were alive, and that was more than enough to him.

“Here,” he said with every inch of power he had left in his body.

“Where?”

“Here,” he repeated. “In the study.”

First he saw the outline of your body, moving like a shadow towards him. Your eyes were wide with worry, like every time you saw him in danger. His sweet Y/N, who cared for him in a way he never knew he needed before.

“Where? Where is he?” he breathed as you knelt next to him.

“I shot him. He’s down,” you said.

Before he had the chance to feel relief, before he had the chance to look into your eyes for just a moment of comfort, a body hid the light behind you. He wasn’t dead.

“Y/N!” Aaron yelled, but the bullet had already left Peter’s gun.

You fell to the ground and your hand covering the wound in your neck did nothing to stop the blood from running.

“No,” he screamed with desperation. “No, no, no.”

Tears ran down his cheeks getting mixed with your blood that had been splashed on his face, but he was unable to move. He wanted to run to you, to take you in his arms, to steal you away, but he was stuck watching your terrified expression as you were bleeding to death.

“No,” he cried. “No, baby, not you. Help!” he screamed. “Somebody help!”

His body was shaking, but as if he was under a spell, he couldn’t even lift his arm. A feeling of helplessness took over his body that he had only experienced once before; the day he lost Haley.

“Not my Y/N,” he choked on his sobs.

“Now I know what scares you,” Peter said, towering over him.

The gun he pointed at Aaron turned towards your body again and you were met with a final shot.

“No!”

His eyes closed, his blood boiling with fury. “Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch.”

When he opened them again, he had to blink a few times before he realized that your body was gone. His head was dizzy and his vision was blurred, but he was certain of one thing: you were no longer lifeless, laying right in front of him.

“It’s okay. You can move now.”

He had been fooled, just like all of his victims before. Aaron knew what he had to do now, the fact that you were still alive giving him some clarity.

“I’m about to come through that front door.”

He was lying, but still Aaron accepted the knife Peter gave him and turned to the door. You were about to come in, and this time for real; he had to play along. This time he had a second chance. A second chance to save the person he loved that was so brutally taken away from him the first time.

“My gun,” he asked. “I need my gun.”

“Look. Here I come,” Peter said. “Kill me.”

Aaron reached out for his gun and pointed at the spot he had shown him. As soon as he saw the door open, he turned around and shot Peter as fast as he could.

“Hotch!” you ran to him. “We need a medic in here!” you asked.

“Take it,” he said, terrified, giving you his gun. He didn’t trust himself with it; not when it was you right in front of him. “Take it.”

You did as he said, placing your hand on his arm, trying to figure out a way to comfort him.

“He made me see things,” he cried. And then in a breath he said again, “He made me see things...”

“It’s over,” you said softly. “You’re okay. Look at me.”

Aaron met your gaze and you didn’t seem to think twice before reaching out to him and taking him into your arms. He couldn’t help but melt into your embrace.

“It’s okay,” you kept repeating to him, and it wasn’t the words you used, but the sound of your voice that calmed his shaking body down. “I’m here, I got you.”

“He’s gone,” Spencer informed you.

--

“He looks traumatized,” JJ said, staring at her boss. Peter had just been arrested but it didn’t seem to have calmed him down. His attention was completely devoted to you, as you held his hand and talked to him at the back of the ambulance.

“His hallucinations were probably traumatic,” Rossi said.

“He needs to talk about it,” Derek added.

“I’m sure he will. He has Y/N to talk to.”

Their attention turned back to you. You were holding a piece of cotton now, patting it softly over his wound. He kept insisting to the medics he was fine, but seemed fine with you touching him.

Your free hand was still holding his.

“I didn’t know they were…” JJ said before David interrupted her.

“This isn’t the time or the place for a conversation like this. Let’s just be grateful he’s letting someone in.”

“You’re right,” Morgan said.

--

You insisted on driving Aaron home and if he was honest with himself he had no issues with it, since he had also no intention of ever leaving you out of his sight again.

He was thankful Jack wasn’t home. The last thing he wanted was for his son to see him in that state.

Closing the door behind you, you made your way around his couch and sat next to him. You seemed almost awkward in your moves.

The fact that you were a soft spot for him was not a piece of information he had ever shared with you before. But after that night it would be ridiculous for either of you to pretend you were just a unit chief and his subordinate. Your dynamic had shifted.

“Thank you,” he said. “For driving me home.”

“I would never let you drive in that state.”

Any other day your sweet words would have made him smile, but Aaron didn’t have it in him at that moment. He was exhausted and scared.

“Aaron,” you said, reaching out for his hand. The sweet gesture and the use of his first name made his heart flutter. “You can talk to me…about what you saw.”

Flashes of your bleeding body appeared right in front of him. He was back in that house, frozen to the ground, hearing your desperate chokes as you bled away.

“Hotch? Aaron?”

It all vanished the next second, as he blinked to send them away.

“I saw your death.”

His words visibly shook you, and you slightly opened your mouth but without making a sound.

Aaron’s voice broke. “He shot you right in front of my eyes. You were bleeding to death and I couldn’t move.”

His breaths were getting shorter as he sobbed and you moved closer to him, placing your palm right over his heart. “I was too late again. I didn’t save you.”

“You did. You shot him, remember? You saved me,” you smiled sweetly. “You saved all of us. He drugged you and you still managed to shoot him.”

He couldn’t help but let all the tears out. “I’m scared I never woke up from it. I’m scared you’re not real.”

“I’m real. I’m right here, I promise.”

“Y/N…”

Your movements were careful as you lifted your hand to cup his cheek, and the comforting motion of your thumb rubbing the side of his head brought him back to reality. You were real, his inner voice repeated.

“I am terrified of losing you,” he admitted.

“You won’t.”

He tried to speak again but his sobs wouldn’t allow him to.

“It’s okay,” you said. “It’s okay.”

Your eyes were watery too, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss your tears away. But you put him back to his place, silently reminding him that he was the one who needed comfort this time, as you wiped his tears away with your hand. “I’m here.”

“Will you stay?”

“Do you think I would leave you here alone? I would stay even if you didn’t want me to,” you answered.

“I would never not want you here, Y/N.”

Aaron fell into your arms and you held him there with no intention of letting him go. “I know.”

[pupkashi]

boyfriend!yuta headcanons

a/n: i have been having major yuta brainrot as of late ,, here u guys go ! i hope these are too badly ooc seeing as though I’ve only written for him a couple times ! they’re a bit all over the place so plz lmk what y’all think :3

wordcount: 1,183

masterlist

first things first this boy is an absolute nervous wreck anytime he’s around you before he asks you out, I’m talking stuttering and fumbling over his words, looking anywhere but you, trying his best to not embarrass himself (he inevitably does poor guy)

asks you out when it’s just the two of you, on a picnic or watching a movie, his palms are sweaty because what if he just hallucinated you saying you liked him back and this is a big mistake??

okok this boy would definitely wear those ‘i love my s/o’ shirts, starts off as a joke, then wears it unironically because yeah, he does love you, what about it??

the biggest simp in the world yall, does anything you want him to, buys you whatever you want whenever you want it, you tell him jump he’s asking how high while already jumping

it’s a serious problem, considering you now have to make it clear that just because you say something is nice doesn’t mean you want it

“this sweater is nice right yuu?” “yeah it is really nice” ,,,, “yuta why do you have two bags?” “i got you the sweater in every color you like :3”

you’re always getting packages at your door, handing them to him only for him to say ‘oh that’s actually for you!’

the worst part of this is he absolutely hates when you get him something, always telling you to spend your money on yourself or save it, saying he has everything he needs already

still accepts your gifts with open arms, over the moon because ‘you really thought of me ?? i love you :(‘ he literally is ‘🥺’ if it was a person

calls you every sweet nickname he can think of: baby, babe, sweetheart, darling, my love, honey (he tends to favor my love and darling)

you tend to call him things like: baby, lover, pretty boy, angel

he turns into an absolute blushing mess when you call him pretty boy and angel, giggling and trying to not forget what he was talking to you about in the first place

the kind of boyfriend who will buy you flowers weekly, no matter what.

ever since he overheard you on the phone talking about how much you loved his ‘just because’ flowers, he made it a reoccurring purchase at a local flower shop

gets you all your favorite snacks when he just so happens to stop by at a convenience store, handing them to you with a happy grin, ‘we can have movie night with snacks now!’

has your coffee order memorized before you guys even started dating, rarely asks if you want some, usually just surprises you with it <3

he is such a homebody boyfriend :( prefers calm and cozy nights in sipping on hot chocolate cuddles in warm blankets over going out

takes you out to nice restaurants though !! especially if you like going out, he’ll take you on all kinds of dates

goes ice skating, amusement parks, the fair, laser tag (you destroyed him), escape rooms, literally everything

at restaurants if you’re between two things to order he’ll get one of the ones you want so you get try both :3

if you don’t like what you ordered he’ll swap with you / will tell you to order something different, saying he’ll take the other plate home and eat it tomorrow so you don’t feel bad abt it <3

LOVES going grocery shopping with you </3 finds it so domestic and lovely to be able to pick you celery with you (he also gets excited when you ask him what he wants to eat so you can get the stuff for it)

he’ll always tell you he wants to bake cookies and other treats with you, grabbing all the ingredients and grinning at you sheepishly when the cart starts to get full

“we came here for four things, how did you manage to make me get all these things” “cause you love me” he giggles

giggles at everything you say !!!!! topples over laughing when you tell a joke (we get it bro you love us 😭)

it’s so easy to make him blush and flustered, literally just winking at him makes his brain short circuit (let’s not get started on when you two make out) (he whimpers 🤭)

has pictures of you as his lockscreen, always smiles a bit when he unlocks his phone, when he’s away on missions he finds himself checking the time more often than he really needs to

AMAZING TEXTER !!!!! will reply to you very quickly and address all your messages and reacts to all the things you send him (everyone is amazed because is this the same yuta who left them on deliver red for three days before replying ??)

he is SO the jealous type ,, he tries not to be, really he hates having negative emotions of any kind, but he can’t help it :(

his entire demeanor changed drastically when someone starts flirting with you, he’s standing up straighter, clenching his jaw and has that threatening look on his face, no sign of the once cheerful and bubbly boy

he’s wrapping an arm around you, tugging on your hand and trying to get you alone so he can make out with you and remind both you and himself that you’re only his <33

insanely protective of you !!! he’ll be holding your hand in public, always making sure he knows where you are, in crowded areas he has one hand on your waist to help you through the crowds <33

will obliterate anyone who even tries to threaten you, ‘look at them again and you’ll be wishing i had killed you’ but in a not creepy and actually very 🦋way yk ?

really listens to you and everything you have to say, asking questions about your interests and genuinely loves listening to you talk about the things you like <3

i know he gets u literally everything but he gives you amazing and thoughtful gifts for special occasions !! he manages to always get you perfect gifts every single time <3

he compliments you everyday without fail, no matter where he is in the world, he will ALWAYS tell you how stunning you look !!!

reminds you everyday how much he loves you, telling you and leaving you little notes, writes you love letters like he’s away at war even though he’s most likely to get back before the letter even ships

cooks you dinner when he has the chance (he’s actually a pretty good cook!!) going all the way with wine (if you drink of course) and roses

uses your shampoo and conditioner sometimes because he just loves the way they smell and they remind him so much of u hehe

has your skincare routine memorized to when you’re too exhausted to do it he can do it for you <3

he’s overall just a soft and sweet lover, doing anything and everything he can for you because he knows you’re the one for him <33

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[icallhimjoey]

Prompt idea either for your current fic or a random one shot! Soft!Joey was VERY much not so soft Joey in your dream and you wake up in a STATE about it. Now real Joey needs to rectify his dream world bad behaviour. Angsty Smutty fluffy whatever you think is best.

Love your work!

me: save this for something longer also me: no the girlies need it right now Wordcount: 1.5K

---

Boy Of My Dreams

“Come here, baby.” 

Joe was there.

Right there where you'd left him, holding the covers open for you when he heard you turn off the lights in the bathroom. 

“I’m fine. Was just a dream.” you immediately said, curling back onto your spot, close to him, but your back turned.   

Joe’s eyes were still closed as his hands roamed until fingers trailed up your back to hold onto your neck. To feel some kind of closeness, the laziest way of comforting his girl after a nightmare.  

“Talk later?” 

But his question went unanswered. No confirmation, no dismissal, because either one didn’t feel right. You let the words float and hoped they would float away, real far, hoped they’d make real distance as you both fell back asleep.

Occasionally, you’d have a nightmare that would continue the story of a nightmare you’d had years earlier. A dream you couldn’t even remember, hadn’t consciously thought of since that one morning after you’d woken up from it, but somehow it still managed to store itself away inside your brain. Somewhere deep down, a place you couldn’t reach by yourself, just... lingering there for you to revisit in your sleep eventually.

It happened very rarely, but the second you’d wake up, you’d realise, fuck, this was that same fucking nightmare you had had ages ago.

When you hadn’t even known Joe yet.

Hadn’t even known of his existence, let alone would have known the lines of his face like the back of your hand.

The plush of his lips.

The scruff of his cheeks.

His chin.

The way your mind would hallucinate awful things in your sleep that would feel so vivid and so real was absolutely terrifying, but the addition of Joe’s face made everything so much worse.

Your unconscious mind could play tricks on you.

You knew this.

But in your sleepy haze, the feelings were real. The emotions right there.

And that man who’d scared you years ago in this same nightmare now wore a face that you recognised.

Logically you knew it was an addition.

Something new that hadn’t been there before.

There was no way you’d also dreamt about Joe all those other times - every person in a dream was someone you needed to have seen before, you knew.

But still.

The hand that held onto your neck was of little comfort, and you knew it was silly, but your body still flinched and moved away from the man in your bed because he didn’t feel safe right now.

You hoped Joe wouldn’t react to the quick pull away from him. To the little shimmy you did to duck into your pillow a bit more. But you felt how he raised his head off of his own, likely to see through a squinty eye if you were okay.

“I’ll have forgotten in the morning.” you quickly reassured with a whisper into the dark, and Joe decided he was too tired to get into anything right now anyway. He’d leave it to rest and hoped that you were right. That the next bit of sleep would make you forget about any horrors.

Except it didn’t.

It took you long to fall back asleep, and when you eventually did, you slipped right back into the same awful narrative.

It was why, not that long after you’d woken up that first time, you shook Joe awake. Leant over him, sort of sweaty, big wet eyes close to his face because, you just... you needed to check.

Had to see for yourself.

To see if his eyes were normal.

Joe roused awake, confused and definitely not as alert as you were.

“What?” Joe croaked, a little freaked out by the way you frowned in panic as you searched his eyes. He saw how yours flicked between his left and right.

Normal.

Joe’s eyes were their normal big brown beautiful kind soft ones. Bit tired. Definitely confused. But not the evil pitch black giant orbs you’d just dreamt of. You immediately relaxed and fell back onto your pillow, sighing with relief. This was definitely one of the weirdest most disturbing ways to be woken up before six o’clock.

“What’s wrong?” Joe asked, voice still just as hoarse, as he turned his head to look at you stare up at the ceiling.

Why were you panting?

“Nothing. I... don’t worry, your eyes are normal.”

Just a dream. It was just a dream. Your nervous system just had to catch up to it.

“My eyes?” Joe was so confused. What the fuck were you talking about?

“You were...” you started, but shook your head instead of finishing the sentence. It was of no use explaining. Just a silly dream. “Never mind. Just...” you looked at the ceiling and even though it was dark, the rubbing of your eyes made you see spots for a second.

Joe watched as you gathered your thoughts for a second, and worry etched deeper into his features.

“Hey,” he whispered, concern thick in his voice, a hand reaching over that placed itself on your forehead. “I was what? What did I do?”

You then turned your head to look at him, moving Joe’s hand into your hair, and you immediately felt guilty. Joe looked far too bothered for your liking.

“Scary.” you admitted, scooting over closer to him. “But you’re not scary now. Was just a dream.”

For a second, that made Joe relax a little. You weren’t talking about him him, you were talking about whatever weird version of him you’d just dreamt about. One without normal eyes, apparently.

Joe accepted you into his arms as you cuddled up to him, finding his sleep warm body to curl yourself around, seeking closeness this time around, because Joe’s eyes were normal and comforting.

He was glad it had just been a dream.

But then, Joe’s thoughts caught up, and actually, Joe didn’t like that.

Joe didn’t like that at all.

Didn’t like how you dismissed a nightmare like it hadn’t affected you when it so very clearly had.

Didn’t like how hugging you tight also meant that he could feel how fast your heart was beating.

Didn’t like how, real or not, you’d been scared of him. Had felt real fear because of him.

He’d been the boy of your nightmare, and that was not okay.

“You had a nightmare about me?” Joe almost sounded hurt, voice small and soft. Like it was his fault that you were breathing the way you were right now. Like he had personally done you a great disservice.

Which wasn’t true, obviously.

It hadn’t actually been him.

“It wasn’t you.” you comforted, pressing your face into Joe’s neck, reminding yourself just as much as you tried convincing him.

“Hm?”

“Just looked like you.”

But that didn’t make it better. Not to Joe, anyway.

The way that you went from trying for a little distance before, to suddenly hiding yourself away into his skin didn’t sit right with him either.

“You okay?” he whispered, a hand trailing up your back as he asked it, ending at your neck where he held onto it like he’d done before.

“Mhm,” you confirmed, and took a big deep breath to hopefully slow your heartbeat down a little. “Need to calm down.”

“Do you want to talk about it? What did I do to you?” Joe didn’t wait for an answer to the first question. Just wanted to know how severe his crimes had been. How big his apology needed to be. How much he needed to comfort you.

But like before, when he’d suggested to talk later, you let the questions sit where they sat, and didn’t provide them with an answer at all. Instead, you just burrowed deeper. Pressed your nose into his skin a little harder. Hitched your leg over his thighs a little higher. Squeezed yourself around his middle a bit more.

Joe decided his crimes had been very severe. Maybe even life sentence sort of stuff. He tightened his arms around your frame, the hand on your neck letting its fingers slide into your hair a little.

“I’m sorry.” Joe murmured against your forehead.

That made your eyes water.

You didn’t want to talk.

That was okay.

Just needed comforting.

“You’re okay,” Joe whispered into your hair, answering his own earlier question. He placed a little kiss there too, eyes closed, determined to make you drift off back to sleep, and it made you whine.

“You’re safe,”you deserved more sleep, but nightmareless this time. No scary eyes.

“I’m here.” Joe squeezed tigther as he felt you relax. From the way you started matching your breathing to his, he knew it was working.

You could have a nice dream about him.

He could be the boy of your dreams. Good, postive, sweet ones.

“No one’s gonna hurt you. Go back to sleep. You’re safe. I’m here.”

The hand that held onto your neck was actually very comforting now, and your body fully relaxed into the man in your bed because; he was right.

No one was going to hurt you.

You were safe.

Joe was there.

---

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add yourself

[reverie-starlight]

{need you now- hawks}

y’all remember need you now by lady antebellum?

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. angst-ish? kinda fluffy. I’ll be doing a part two of this from keigo’s perspective eventually.

you can’t sleep.

this has been happening more and more lately, and you wonder how much more you can take without starting to hallucinate.

he’s back home from a mission now, which you only found out because of one of his fan accounts. well- “home”. he’s been staying in the luxurious house the commission kept aside for him. nothing homely about it according to keigo, but it’s not like he has much of a choice.

not after you got caught up in the argument and told him you wanted nothing to do with him.

you had shrugged it off when you saw the post, not knowing if it’s been too long to try and reconcile, but now you’re going down memory lane, holding back tears as you flip through the photo album he made you.

you fight yourself to stay off your phone, but you get to a photo of him kissing your cheek and you can’t stop yourself any longer. the loneliness you’ve been feeling all this time finally wins out.

the clock reads 1:15 AM.

is he even awake right now?

it’s been a month… and he’s always so busy, do you even cross his mind anymore? he always seems to be on yours.

you call anyway, against your better judgement and your heart lurches into your throat when he actually answers.

after two rings, at that.

“hello?” his voice both soothes you and chills you to your bones at the same time.

“hi keigo,” you whisper.

“hi, ba-“ you think he’s about to call you baby out of habit and you wish he hadn’t stopped himself. “did you need something?”

he sounds… somber. solemn. sad.

not at all like the keigo you love.

guilt pools in your stomach at the mere idea of you hurting him this badly.

“I…” you bite your lip. “I miss you.”

you hear his breath hitch. “really?”

you wish you could see his expression and figure out what he’s feeling. he’s always been so good at keeping his voice free of emotion.

granted, he always tried to turn that skill off around you, so you gather that he must be feeling guarded.

you keep going. “I’m so sorry for that night, keigo. I said things that I didn’t mean and I regret it so much… I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

he’s quiet on the line for a few beats and then and exhaled “I’m sorry too, baby. we both said some pretty awful things, didn’t we?”

you laugh, but it sounds a bit more like a sob to you. “yeah,” your voice breaks. “keigo, I… I need you here with me. can you please come over so we can talk about this?”

he clears his throat, likely working overtime to continue to keep the growing emotion out of his voice, but it sounds thick when it breaks anyway. “y-eah. yeah, I can come over. I need you too. I’ll be there soon, okay? unlock the window for me, sweetheart.”

he hangs up and you quickly move to do as he asked.

five minutes later, he’s on your balcony, sliding the glass and slipping into your room.

he immediately wraps you in his arms and your body, once cold and empty, fills with a warmth only he could provide.

he’s whispering words into your scalp. “I love you, y’know that? I love you too much to ever want to break up.”

you nod against his chest, letting the tears flow freely. “I love you too. I’m sorry,” these words are repeated between the two of you- they shoot out of your mouth and hit his chest, sinking into his skin and bubbling up his throat only for them to hit your scalp and absorb into your brain, then fall out of your mouth again like a well oiled machine working overtime.

but there’s nothing habitual about these phrases- as is the case for any time you say them, they’re promises.

promises that will never be broken again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve had this idea for a while and I finally wrote it :3

AND I’m gonna work on this from his POV, which I’m almost more excited abt than this one 👀

@emmyrosee sum angst (ish)

[thewulf]

Who Did This To You? || Rafe Cameron

Summary: Request - Rafe fic based on song wait in the truck by Hardy. Basically he sees her one night that he’s going for a drive to calm down picks her up and drives to the house of maybe her dad or boyfriend and shoots them... Read Rest Here

A/N: Wrote this quick but had so much fun omg love a protective Rafe!! Thank you so much for the request @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rafe’s truck raced down the winding street on the Pogue’s side of the island. He stopped at Barry’s needing to pick up another supply for the party he’d planned to be at that weekend.

What he wasn’t expecting to see was you stumbling along the side of the road completely disorientated and disheveled beyond repair. He parked his truck close to your trembling body that kept trying to walk but seemed to betray itself.

“Y/N?” He called seeing you off in your own head. He shivered seeing the amount of blood that coated the front of your body once you turned responding to your name. He didn’t see that. You were fucked up. Beaten up by somebody who clearly wanted to hurt you. But who could have wanted to do that to you? You might have been a Pogue, a Maybank even, but damn he’d be lying if he didn’t say you weren’t a big ass ray of sunshine. Despite every shitty circumstance thrown at you, you handled everything so well.

“Who did this to you?” Rafe asked brushing your shoulder careful not to touch anywhere you may be bleeding from. There was so much fucking blood. It made his own damn head queasy, and Rafe was used to blood. He wasn’t sure how you were even standing. The metallic smell of the drying liquid brought him back to the urgency of the situation, “Maybank,” He raised his voice a bit but cursing to himself when he say you shy away, “Hey, Y/N. Who did this to you baby?” He asked once more trying to help. But the alarm in your eyes told him he’d fucked up somehow. Was he standing too close? Did he touch you where you might’ve been hurting from?

You shook your head trying to get away from his grasp. This wasn’t the Rafe Cameron who ragged on you day in and day out. He’d never, ever call you baby. No, you were hallucinating. Just had to keep going, JB’s cottage wasn’t too far now. You tried your hardest but whatever it was you were dreaming was stopping you from moving.

“Y/N?” He asked pulling you back towards his truck. He didn’t want to hurt you, but you clearly weren’t in the state to be wandering down a dark ass road with what looked like half the blood in your body coating every inch of exposed skin and drenching the clothing you had on.

“Please.” You whined trying to pull your hand away from his gentle embrace, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have any more damn energy to try and fight him off.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He brushed the hair that was clinging to the dried blood on your cheek away drawing a soft groan from your lips, “I’m so sorry pretty.” What you thought was the hallucination whispered at you, “Why don’t you sit down in the truck Y/N?” He asked you. Worry laced his eyes seeing a blown-out pupil in one of your eyes as he finally made eye contact with you. He knew you were in rough shape. A blown-out eye was never a good sign.

“I can’t. Have to get…” You coughed feeling the adrenaline wearing down and the full effects of the beat down from your father start to set in. He’d hit you before, yes. But never had you experienced the full wrath of your drunk and likely stoned dad. It was a damn miracle you were even alive right now. Had you now been able to get a kick to his chest knocking him off balance you weren’t sure if you’d be breathing right now.

Gingerly, Rafe placed his hands on either side of your head trying to get you to focus on him, “I’ll take you, okay? Just, sit down. Please baby? You’re hurt. Really fucking bad Maybank. I need you to sit in my truck.” He said with a little more authority trying to get you to acknowledge him. Sure, he’d never been exactly kind to you but seeing you like this? Broken and shattered? That enraged Rafe.

You weren’t each other’s biggest fans, but he still grew up with you. He watched out for you at parties. He knew what his friends said about the younger Maybank. He also knew you had your brother and his friends protecting you. He was never worried about you. So, seeing you looking like you’d just escaped a crime scene on the side of the road at ten o’clock at night sent alarm bells ringing through Rafe’s head.

You nodded into his hand, “Okay.” You croaked out noting how damn bad it hurt to speak.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?” He asked softy, only more concern and worry lacing his eyes as you listened to him.

You nodded not having it in you to answer him.

That’s all he needed to scoop you right up as quickly but gently as he could muster. It made him sick seeing you so broken in his arms. He’d always thought you were beautiful. Everybody on the damn island thought you were. What set you apart from the others was your kindness though. No matter how nasty he and his friends were to you and yours you always greeted him with a smile and sometimes even a wave. No matter what. No matter what nasty comment he threw your way. You always handled him and his stupid ass friends with grace. Something your older brother lacked greatly. What he lacked in your made up for greatly and vice versa.

Rafe set you down as softly as he could in the passenger’s seat of his truck, his father’s truck. Not really giving a damn about the blood that would surely be staining the seat below you. Never in his wildest imagination would he thought this would be the reason he’d be hiding the truck from his father until he could get it detailed. He always thought he’d wreck it, or it’d be his blood coating the seats beneath him. Never would he have guessed it could be you in this scenario. He’d always had a soft spot for you. Always picking on you a little less and a somewhat more lightly than he did any other pogue.

“Can you stay awake there for me Maybank?” He asked reaching over you to buckle you in. When you didn’t make a sound he panicked leaning back to look at you, “Y/N?”

“I’m trying.” You sighed closing your eyes while leaning your head back. God, you felt like absolute death. How in the hell did John B and JJ get into this shit so often? It was downright painful. Boys were mad you’d concluded quickly.

“Thank you baby.” He buckled you in making sure to pull it the seat belt tight knowing you weren’t really in the state to hold yourself up, “I’m going to take you back to my place okay? Get you cleaned up. Then, we can find your brother when you’re feeling up to it?”

You couldn’t stop the tears that slipped from your eyes. It was too much. All too fucking much. It felt like Rafe was killing you with kindness. He wasn’t acting like the guy you thought you knew. You thought he was an absolute dickhead with literally no redeeming qualities. But this? This had you reeling. Rethinking everything that you thought you knew. He was being so sweet. So kind and gentle. So loving.

“Hey, hey. Y/N? Are you okay?” Another round of panic flashed through his eyes seeing your tears roll down your face now. So softly, so unlike anything you thought you knew, he brushed those tears away with the pads of his fingertips.

You let out a shaky breath nodding your head, “I’m okay.” Finally, you opened your eyes to look him over. He looked, rough. To say the least. Panic had thrown his appearance out of whack. It was hard to see with one eye being nearly busted but he didn’t look like the confident Rafe who never seemed to break.

He gave you a long look over, almost unsure with your answer. You clearly weren’t okay. But you were alive. You were tough. You were Y/N. The beauty of the island. The girl who seemed to brighten anybody’s day without even realizing it. A gem among mounds of coal. A fucking Maybank of all people.

He gave you a curt nod before shutting the door. Not a moment later he jumped in the driver’s seat, “You can stay in my room tonight. Dad and Rose are on the mainland working a deal. Sarah is with John B for the night. Wheezy is sleeping over at a friend’s. The house is mine, ours.” He spoke while starting the engine. Looking over to make sure that was fine with you.

“Sounds good Rafe.” You spoke softly, finding it easier than speaking at a normal volume.

He had to ask again. Looking you over as he drove back towards his house it was a damn miracle he’d found you. He wasn’t even supposed to be on that road, but he stopped by Barry’s on a whim. Low and behold he fond you. Broken and barely moving.

“Who did this to you, Y/N?” He asked with a little more authority in his voice. The anger rose as he heard you wheezing, seemingly trying to gasp for air. Likely a broken rib making it hard for you to breath in.

“I don’t…” You tried but he quickly spoke over you.

“Yes you do Y/N. Who did this to you baby? Please tell me. Please” His tone of voice turned to one of pleading. You looked over at him seeing his broken look studying the road ahead of him, careful not to put you in more danger than you already were in.

You let out a broken sigh. Why were you trying to protect the scum bag anyway? You were tired. So, fucking tired of hiding from him. Screaming at him when he was wailing on JJ. Screaming at him when he was punching you. This wasn’t a life you wanted. Wasn’t one you could stand much longer.

“My dad. My dad did this.” You clenched your hands together to stop the shaking.

Rafe looked at you incredulously, almost as if he didn’t believe you, “Your dad?”

You nodded silently closing your eyes once more. Afraid to see what judgment might form in his look.

“Is your dad still at home Y/N?” He asked a lot more seriously than he had been moments before.

“Yeah I think so.” You spoke quietly. You felt the truck slow and change directions, “Where are we going Rafe? I thought you said we were going back to yours?”

He hummed, “We are. Just making a stop at your place first.”

You shook your head, “No, Rafe. Don’t. He’s not worth it.” You knew him stopping could only mean trouble.

He kept driving knowing you weren’t in the state to put up even a little bit of a fight, “Look at you Y/N. I’m just paying old man Maybank a quick visit.” He cooed seeing how distraught you were right next to him. A gentle hand laid to rest on your thigh. He rubbed his thumb in circles trying to soothe you just a little, “You just wait in the truck baby, okay?” He asked not giving you much of an option.

More tears spilled, “Please be careful Rafe.” You felt an internal sense of dread as his truck rolled up on the gravel sidewalk in front of the piece of shit trailer you, JJ and your dad lived in. You should be grateful, or so your dad always fucking told you.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be right back. Then we’ll get you cleaned up, yeah?” He leaned over placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Surely, you were in some sick dream. Who in the hell was this man? He was so gentle, so soft with you.

“Hurry.” You whined feeling your body losing to the grapple of consciousness. Rafe must’ve sensed your fading into blackness as he nodded before hopping out of the truck. You didn’t miss him grabbing the gun under the front seat. You gulped as you heard him beating on the front door calling out for your surely passed out father. He wouldn’t be very happy when he came to. But you didn’t hear the rest. You succumbed to the darkness letting the hold of darkness take control for the first time in a while.

“There you are.” Rafe’s voice made you turn your head toward him. You felt him grab at your hand giving it the most delicate squeeze. Acting as if your hand was made of the finest porcelain.

“Rafe.” You sighed, “What happened?”

He gulped turning away from you, “I’ll uh… I’ll let your brother explain that.” He gave you a soft laugh, “Let’s just focus on you right now, how are you feeling baby?”

“Baby huh?” You finally commented on his newly used pet name on you. You were usually ‘Muddy Maybank’ or the ‘Pogue Pleaser’ as he so kindly called you.

Rafe smirked knowing this meant you had to at least feel a little bit better if you were commenting on it, “Sure. Suits you.” He nodded his head brushing the hair out of your eyesight knowing you were probably far too sore to be moving so soon.

You quirked an eyebrow in surprise. Maybe you looked really fucking bad because this wasn’t the Rafe you’d known for the last fifteen years, “Does it?”

He nodded giving your hand another soft squeeze, “If you want.” He left it up to you.

You thought for a moment. You weren’t blind. He was bloody fucking gorgeous the man was. Tall but not stalky. Built but not too muscular. Fine as hell. Dapper as could be. Style beyond recognition. Class further than you could ever imagine. But… he had that mouth that put you down so often. Put your brother and friends down too. You’d sworn him and his type off completely long ago. But why, for the love of God, did it make you feel the tiniest amount of giddiness when that word came off his tongue?

“Maybe I do.” You admitted.

His smirk only grew to a smile as he heard you, “Yeah?” he scooted the chair closer to his bed that you were lying in. You looked yourself over impressed at how well he’d managed to clean you up while you were unconscious.

You nodded giving him a soft smile, “I like the sound of it.”

He hummed using his free hand to run his thumb along your unbruised cheek bone, “Then it’s settled. I’ll call you baby so long as you let me.”

You grinned feeling that dull flutter turn to more rapid nerves in your stomach as you let yourself fall more and more into the man sitting so closely next to you, “Rafe?” You asked feeling the exhaustion come over you once more.

“Yeah?” He answered you with a small amount of concern seeing your eyes flutter closed once more. Had he missed something? Were you still feeling bad? Were you bleeding internally?

“Will you sleep with me? I’m tired.” Your soft voice broke him from his own train of thoughts.

He looked you over seeing the delicate state you were in. But that sweet begging look on your eyes when you looked at him had him agreeing with you too quickly, “Anything you need baby.”

He climbed into the bed next to you. Softly he grabbed at your waist pulling you as gently as he could towards himself letting you adjust to him as best as you could, “Thank you.” You whispered letting yourself nuzzle into his chest falling asleep before he could even respond.

“You have no idea, sweet girl.” He knew you were asleep, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and giving you a soft kiss on your forehead. He didn’t miss the sweet smile that came to your face as you slept in his arms. Rafe could certainly get used to this.

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[satrs]

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨? Part 2 Part 3

SYNPOSIS; pranking your bf by taking off your engagement ring!

FEATURING; Barou Shoei. Isagi Yoichi. Reo Mikage.

TAGS; fluff fluff and more fluff. slight angst. mention of marriage. nicknames. crack.

All Characters are 18+.

BAROU SHOEI.

Bad idea. Really bad.

You didn’t even have the chance to really prank him, he noticed it right after you took it off, getting behind your sneaky games. „Worst prank so far.“

You put on an act of confusion, turning around from the sink where you put on your earrings to face the man standing at the door to the bathroom. „What do you mean?“

He raised his brow, unimpressed, stepping closer to him. You gulped at his action, lips threatening to curve up into a defeating smile. But you didn’t want to admit defeat just yet.

„I‘m not going to that event with you if you don’t put it back on.“ 

„Put what on?“ He was visibly growing irritated, his expression almost causing him to burst out in laughter. „The ring.“

„What ring?“ He huffed out a breath at that, face twisting into an annoyed expression. „Now you’re pushing it.“

You were at your limit, laughing in defeat, some sense of relief washing over the man as he saw that you really were just joking.

You opened the cabinet next to the bathroom mirror, took out the ring you hid in there, put it onto your finger.

He strolled behind you, hands placed on your hips as he leaned down to place a kiss on the side of your head. „Looking amazing as usual, my wife.“

You were straddled by his words, correcting him. „Soon-to-be wife. Don’t wish bad luck on us now.“

He chuckled at your answer, spinning you around to place his next kiss onto your lips.

„No bad luck coming for the king, that’s for sure.“

ISAGI YOICHI.

ARGHHH WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO HIMM

He noticed it right away when they both of them went out for dinner. His brows knitted in confusion as he saw your finger not being accompanied by the ring he gifted you as you took a sip of your drink.

„Y/N are you mad?“ His concerned tone made you look up at him, placing your glass back onto the table. „No Yoichi. Why would I be?“

He brushed your question off, lips forming a thin line in thought. Did you not like it? Or was it uncomfortable of some sort? Or did you-

„Are you breaking up with me?“ 

You almost choked on your breath at his question, feeling pity for him as you saw his saddened expression. You decided to blow off this ridiculous prank, feeling guilty for possibly ruining the mood of your date with your childish thoughts.

But to your surprise, his eyes lit up at that, chuckling at your antics. „God, that’s a relief.“ Your finances returned his attention back to his food, happily munching on it while flashing you a lovestruck smile.

You let out a small laugh at the sight of his cheeks stuffed full with food, taking out the ring from your pockets before carefully placing it on a little own spot. „I thought you would get mad honestly.“

He returned a comforting smile,“ Of course not. I know how you like to play those pranks. Maybe we should just marry at a playground, fitting your behavior.“

You huffed at that, lightly kicking his knee from under the table, earning a laugh from him. „Not funny.“

He raised his eyebrows at that, leaning over the table closer to his face. „C‘mon. You know I’m the best comedian here. After you, of course.“

REO MIKAGE.

Dramatic ash.

He was quick to notice it when both of you were watching a random show on TV, his fingers stroking yours as he felt the usual metallic and cold ring around your finger not there. He thought he was hallucinating at first, blinking at his naked ring finger.

„Baby?“ His voice was cautious, looking at you with a worried expression on his face. When you questioned him what his deal was, he wordlessly held up your hand. You understood, holding your smirk from creeping up your lips.

„Oh. Just didn’t feel like wearing it today.“ you returned your attention to the TV, on the edge of laughter. His expression was priceless, shocked eyes threatening to fall out of his sockets, mouth hanging wide open. „So you don’t feel like marrying me? Is that it?“ Gosh, you couldn’t hold it any longer, tears prickling your eyes as you broke out in laughter, confusion painting his face.

You turned to him, taking his face in your hands as you gave him a loving kiss, revealing your mischievous plans. He wasn’t amused by this one bit, demanding you to put the ridiculously expensive ring back on your finger. 

You raised your hands in defeat, stretching to reach the shelves under the coffee table, pulling out a box, a ring secured in it.

Reo was quick to snatch the box out of his hand, putting the ring on his finger himself. You chuckled at his small pout. „You shouldn’t do this before the actual marriage, you know.“ he lifted your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss onto each of your knuckles, leaving you flustered.

„Well, then, this is a foretaste.“



ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°

[captainpulisic]

you dream of my mouth - m. mount

a/n - this is for my baby s, you made me the happiest girl ever today- oh, and molly for manifesting it

wc: 2.5k gif creds to owner

whoever has the fucking audacity to be knocking at your door at two in the morning just made their way to the top of your enemy list. you stifle a yawn as you reach the door, who's even awake at this time?

slightly raising your tiptoes, you look through the peephole at the inconsiderate person who clearly doesn’t care about you getting your beauty sleep. yet the person you see has your eyes widening and falling to the ground, out of sight. 

as if he could see you. 

you’re sure you must still be dreaming. this has to be some sort of too realistic hallucination. you must be still tucked into bed, having the weirdest dream of your life. because why else would mason fucking mount be at your doorstep after months of no contact?

there was no reason for him to be here. after signing and transferring to manchester, he had wasted no time in breaking up with you, reasoning that long distance never really worked. after that and too far away from his former life, he was quick to be papped with new girls every other week. it made you miserable, seeing how quick he was to move on, to be so open about his newest flings. you, on the other hand, had some decency to be on the downlow about the guys you began to date- or tried to date, anyway. none of them managed to stick, falling victim to you comparing them to mason. they just weren’t him. and you hated how quick you were to dismiss them over that.  

catching your breath, you gain the courage to look through, again. your eyes hadn’t been deceiving you, it really was him. it was a blurry and disoriented lense but from what you can make out, he looks disheveled and quite a mess. his hair looks tousled, as if he had been continuously tugging at it.

you remember that had always been a nervous habit of his. and a habit of yours had become swatting his hands away, replacing them with your own as you tried to style his hair back into place. oh, how your hands were itching to do it right now. to run your fingers through it and feel him lean into your touch.

it had been ages since that’d happened. 

your heart wasn’t giving your brain no time to think because before you knew it, you were unlocking and opening the door. 

and there mason stood, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. he tried to take a step towards you, stumbling in the process. he braced himself against the door frame, trying to balance himself as he mumbled your name. and you curse yourself for pulling him towards yourself, giving him some extra support. slurring his words, “tell me it isn’t true.”

great, you sigh. he’s drunk. 

“ben told me that he saw you out today,” he manages to mumble. your body freezes when his hand reaches up to cradle your jaw. and your heart speeds up when his thumb begins to swipe at your bottom lip. his eyes shift from your own eyes down to your lips, “that he saw out with some guy, saw you kissing him. ‘s not fair, it was me you were kissing not too long ago y’know?”

he always did get clingy when drunk. you’re too weak to shove him away but not weak enough to bite back, “until you left.”

you see the words register, as his eyes show a flash of hurt. the corner of his mouth slightly dips, as he shakes his, trying to forget about the night he idiotically let you go. 

“oh, ‘m sorry I left, pretty girl.” after a moment of eyes sweeping all over your face, his lips turn upwards, into a dopey smile. with his hand still cupping your jaw, he begins to swipe at your bottom lip again. “but i’m back now.” 

you’re certain your face is burning red, legs already turning to jelly. thank god he’s still technically holding you up or you’re certain you’d be on the floor by now. you curse him for having this effect on you and curse yourself for still falling for it. your problem had always been being too weak around him.

he waits for you to throw a sarcastic quip, or even to tell him to ‘fuck off’, but all he gets from you are blushing cheeks and an averted gaze. taking this as a good sign, he leans in to leave a kiss at the corner of your mouth. pulling pack to check your reaction, he grins when he sees your closed eyes and ghost of a smile. 

from there, he plants a few more open mouthed kisses on your cheek, always going back to the corner of your mouth in between each one. never on your lips, though- just slight brushes over them. the damned bastard won’t give you the satisfaction too easily. when he feels your lips begin to chase his, desperate to taste him again, he disappears once more. with the hand cupping your jaw, he lightly tilts your face upward, giving himself plenty of access to focus on your neck.  

you’re about to protest from the lack of actual kissing you’ve received but quickly bite your own tongue when you feel him leave a small bite at the crook of your neck. he presses a peck to the same spot, marveling at the fast forming bruise. mason hums, “there, the way it should be.” 

he fails to see you roll your eyes at his possessive antics, too busy refamiliarizing himself with the crook of your neck. it’s a trail of kisses from the curve of your shoulder to the space behind  your ear, a few bites given in between. hearing your breathy sighs, he takes it as reaffirmations to continue. so he kisses your neck and jaw and cheek (anywhere but your actual mouth, really- which becomes quite frustrating!), again and again and again. 

finding his way back up to your face, he comes to a halt when he’s eye level with you. as if seeing each other for the first time again, under happier circumstances, there’s a doe-eyed fondness in both your eyes and matching lovesick smiles.

decidedly having had enough of his teasing, your hands find their way to the sides of his stubble filled cheeks. it’s all so fast as your lips finally meet masons, finding a rhythm that’s all too familiar. it was soft, yet deep and heated. it was the making up of months without each other, being desperate to fill in for the lost time. instantly, you taste the alcohol that has him acting so brazen. both your hands were desperate, tugging and pulling at each others clothes. his hands have found their way to the hem of your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your hips. closing your eyes, your arms drop down to his shoulders, around his neck, pulling him flush against yourself. and you felt a tinge of satisfaction every time he moaned into the kiss. 

his lips never leaving yours, he began to guide you backward, still knowing the layout of your flat without having to look. when you felt the back of your legs hit the couch, you let mason push you down to lay on it. in an instant, he followed you down and was on you. again, his mouth was all over you. neck, jaw, lips, cheeks and repeat. 

you come somewhat back to your senses when you feel his fingers nimbly trying to unbutton your blouse. he finds it a difficult feat due to his still inebriated state. 

how often did he find himself in this predicament with all the girls he had been out with recently? your horrid, sensible mind question itself. all those girls that he’s papped with, how many of them end up on his couch? did any of them naively think they’d be the ones to finally lock him and his heart down, just as you had? 

the thought of it made you nauseous.

you couldn’t fall victim to him, not again. if you gave yourself to him once more, watching him leave would utterly destroy you. the possibility of history repeating itself, of him leaving and parading his latest conquest back in manchester, would be your death. you’re not sure you’d recover this time and you don’t want to see it through to find out. 

“mase- wait,” your heart feels betrayed by your mind, as you find the strength to lightly shove his shoulders. 

you see the confusion in his eyes as he peers down at you. holding himself up with his forearms, careful not to squish you, “is something wrong?”

you try to voice your pesky worries but you can’t seem to find the words. instead, you just shake your head as you begin to detangle yourself from him. you can see the confusion etched on his face but nonetheless, he silently mirrors your actions, unsure of when the night had taken a turn. it’s an awkward maneuver of limbs and loud silence. 

he had been positive everything was going to go his way tonight. truth be told, when ben had told him he had seen you out on a date with some guy, he had seen red. he was aware of how hypocritical he was being but the high volume of drinks he had drunk were making him think his childish tantrum was reasonable. taking another shot for good measure, he called a cab and made his way to your place. 

he wasn’t sure what his endgame was when you opened the door, if you even opened it. he wanted to confront you for moving on. he wanted to apologize for leaving and ruining the loveliest relationship he’d ever had. he wanted you to apologize for snogging some loser who wasnt him, out in the open where anybody could see. he wanted to apologize if he ever made you think any of those girls meant what you had to him.

each knock to your door, his mind flashed to those flings he had been stupid enough to have. with every knock, he felt a sudden urgency to let you know that they amounted to nothing. you needed to know of the few occasions these girls left, annoyed and offended that he had accidentally said your name instead. that no girl made his tummy feel as fuzzy as you did, no one came close. maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing to do but his intoxicated, hazy brain had to tell you that most nights, he’d fall asleep to dreams of you. 

too wrapped up in his thoughts, you clearing your throat snapped him back to the present. your eyes glued to the floor “i’m going to call ben to pick you up, okay?” 

what? why? masons mouth feels too dry. he’s at a loss for words. he hadn’t told you half of the things he wanted to and now you were kicking him out. he was sure his shock would sober him up.

as you stand up from the couch to go retrieve your phone, all he can do is helplessly stare at your retreating figure. he had so much to tell you and his brain was failing him. that last shot was a mistake, not a confidence booster as he had thought. 

when you come back into the room, he’s able to catch the ending of you saying, “alright, see you soon.”

you make a point on sitting on the other side of the couch, putting some distance between the two of you.

no, he wants to whine. I don’t want to leave. I wanna be with you and kiss you and your pretty mouth. I fall asleep dreaming of it. 

all he can slur out, “I wanna kiss you, again.”

it pains you to say, “mason, no.”

“why not?” he pouts, a sad look in his eyes. he reaches for your hand that had been folded in your lap, the hand that had been itching to touch him again. rubbing his thumb along it, “you used to love kissing me.”

“until you left me and started kissing other girls,” you bite back. you know it’s not a fair fight, him not fully there to defend himself. and then you feel even worse as you watch his face fall. 

“I’m sorry,” he says in a small voice, “I never should’ve left.”

it’s useless to argue, he won’t even remember this in the morning. you sigh, “forget it, ben will be here soon.”

resigned, mason nods and leans back to sit on the couch. the silence is deafening and all he wants to do is kiss you. why won’t you let me kiss you? his brain wants to shout. 

as the clock ticks on the wall, he feels his eyes grow tired by the minute. he hoped ben would get lost and he’d be forced to spend the night. he didn’t care if nothing physically happened between the two of you, just being in your proximity would leave him content. 

the thought of it makes him let out a soft chuckle, with a yawn following close by. and on your side of the couch, you let your eyes wander towards him. it hurts having so close yet with the knowledge that you’ll never have him again, not truly. tomorrow he'll be on his way back to his new home with new girls waiting for him. 

no, it’s better this way you try to reassure yourself.

hearing another yawn escape him, you allow yourself to fully look at him. offering a small smile, “rest, i’ll wake you when ben gets here.”

“I don’t wanna,” another yawn, “I need to tell you so much.”

“you can tell me some other time.”

“but what if you don’t ever wanna talk another time,” his voice is sad and a bit sleepy. he’s about to fall into slumber any second now, you remember the signs of it. eyes slightly closing then opening, “and you need to know.”

you catch yourself whispering, “know what?”

he leans his head back further into the couch cushion. his words come out all mumbled together but you’re able to hear a faint ‘mouth’. 

“hmm?”

“your mouth, your pretty mouth”, more inaudible whispers, “I dream of it all the time.”

“mase,” you're cut off by a knock at the door. clearly timing had never been on either of your sides. when you look back at him, you’re met with his peaceful, resting face. maybe this was for the better. and as you let ben in and simply watch him half-carry mason to his car, your heart inexplicably aches. there was a sense of finality to the situation, an unspoken final goodbye. this time tomorrow, he’d be back in his new life and you’d have to start with your new life. it was over and you had to come to terms with it

this was kinda rushed but needed to celebrate the exciting day,, like always, feedback is very much appreciated!

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER SIX: ALL TOMORROW'S PARTIES

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✦ summary: in which the truth about steve's party is revealed and eddie leaves reader another note (wc: 8.6k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, arguments, FIST FIGHT?!?, HUGE WARNING FOR BRUISES AND AN ABSIVE RELATIONSHIP!!!, mention of bruises, mention of shoving someone, BILLY IS ABSIVE, if this content makes you uncomfortable lmk so i can make a summary of it, or just skip the flash back (but its like half of the chapter>:() chrissy is horrible, BILLY is even more horrible, chrissy says some classist shit!!, eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — @andvys ily thank u for always being so helpful w everything i hope u like this chapter bb!! not proof-read srry ignore mistakes !! and as i said this is a heavy chapter so lmk if any of u need a summary on the flashback. and im so sorry for making chrissy such a villain i actually rlly love her characterr >:(

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series it literally is my baby!! pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

FIVE YEARS AGO.STEVE’S PARTY.

Twenty minutes.  You’ve been waiting in line for the bathroom at Steve’s stupid party for the last twenty minutes. Even plenty of people ahead of you had frustratedly groaned and left by now. But you weren’t going to give up that easy. 

A muffled string of curses filtered through the door before she turned the lock. The door creaked open slightly, revealing a glimpse of Chrissy's face.  She gave you a slight smile, and cluelessly, your face lit up. “Oh, thank god! Can you please let me in, I left my jacket in there.” You giggled, words tangled to each other as you made a clumsy attempt to slip past her, but she closed the door further.

With furrowed brows, you looked up at her. “Uh, I’m busy in here,” She giggled nervously, head tilting towards the side. “Oh,” You murmured.

“OH!” The realization was slow to hit you. She was with someone. You started grinning childishly. “Who’s the lucky guy?” You quipped your brows excitedly, causing Chrissy to stammer. 

You tried to pry open the door, brows still wiggling but Chrissy didn’t let you, mumbling something about being embarrassed. “Oh, come on, Chrissy…” You murmured, still grappling with her to open the door. 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about—” you began with a childlike giggle, attempting to open the door even wider. 

Your giggles were quick to die down when the door fell open, no words dared to come out of your lips as you finally saw who Chrissy was with.  Billy.  Soberness overcame you just at the sight of Billy’s disheveled hair, and Chrissy’s swollen plump lips. 

Your best friend and your boyfriend. 

Your eyes blinked rapidly, desperately wishing it was all a hallucination. The reality of the situation was slow to hit you, your vision blurred uncontrollably, throat tightening, and causing you to feel stuck, almost paralyzed. 

With a gulp, you were quick to take a step back, ignoring them calling your name as you turned back, forgetting all about the jacket you were supposed to get back when your legs felt so wobbly. You could hear the chatter outside the door get louder, everyone else taking a peak at what just happened. The whispers and gasps of everyone around you felt like mocking echoes.

You didn’t even know what to feel first. Anger? Jealousy? Sadness? Embarrassment?

It was a mix of all four and your chest hurts, tears welled up in your eyes, burning down your cheeks as your breaths came in shallow gasps, you couldn’t make any sense of it, and you couldn’t fucking understand it. 

You felt it, felt betrayal like a physical sensation, like there was a void in your chest. And you could sense that Billy was running after you, trying to catch up to you, but you resisted the temptation to slow down, your anger acting as a protective shield. 

“Baby, I swear nothing happened.” He exclaimed, desperation lacing his voice. Your eyes rolled instinctively, head tuning out the words that were too little, too late.

“Please, just listen to me she kissed me I didn’t! I tried to push her off—” You shouldn’t turn around, you definitely shouldn’t turn around and give him that satisfaction. 

But you do.

“For twenty minutes?!? You tried to push her off for twenty fucking minutes?” You yell back bitterly.

“It isn’t what you think, please just let me explain!” 

“Twenty fucking minutes, Billy!” You spat, pain quick to turn into anger. “Do you really think I’m that dumb?” Your fingers discarded your hair in anger, everything you knew to be true wasn’t anymore. 

You knew what you had with Billy was fucked up, it wasn’t a normal nor a healthy relationship, but it was familiar and you were used to it, used to him. A relationship with this many ups and downs became your version of normalcy, even though it shouldn’t have. 

No matter what happened, you thought he loved you, all those promises he whispered into your ear while you slept comfortably on his chest, all the times he murmured that he loved you, that he could never imagine being with anyone else, a whole fucking lie. 

And it hurt. 

Because you knew how hard it would be to walk away from this. You knew you couldn’t break away from him. You needed something to desperately pull you away. Show you that you deserved better than this.

No one would love you more than he did. He told you that a thousand times because it was true. He would do anything and everything for you. And you didn’t know why that enticed you, why being in such a fucked up situation hurt you in the best way possible, like an intoxicating yet destructive obsession.

And anyway, why would anyone even love you? You were a mess, a fuck up, nothing you did ever amounted to anything, and you knew that, you knew you were destined to be this way, to be with someone who constantly hurt you. Nothing you could do would be enough to get you out of the mess that was your mind.  

“I would never do that to you, never.” His eyes were glossy, mirroring yours, you could tell when he lied to you, and this wasn’t one of those times. And you hated that your gaze softened with that because you wanted to believe him. 

You knew he was flirty, you knew that the second you started dating Billy; from the countless times he flirted with the waitress when he took you to dinner, how he always got a little too close with the female lifeguards, how he charmed all the moms in Hawkins with a slight wink, it was a script you knew all too well. And you kept your mouth shut, tolerated it, only because he always brushed it off as nothing. 

You didn’t mind it because he loved you, he told you he did, and you believed him. The countless arguments, the accidental bruises, name-callings, punches in the wall, you forgave it all. Because he loved you, he told you that love made him this way, it made him this insane and angry. And you let him make you believe that his erratic behavior was love, until today. 

Because this was different, this was Chrissy. Your supposed best friend. Yes, Billy probably didn’t start making out with her, but he surely wasn’t eager to finish it either. 

The betrayal cut deeper than any argument or bruise; it was a wound inflicted by the two people you believed loved you unconditionally.

You let out a sarcastic chuckle, arms crossing against your chest as you could feel your face burn up with anger, tears drying out. “You are something else,” you uttered, disappointment and resentment flavoring your words.

“I don’t want to ever see you again, Billy, and I fucking mean it.” 

“Calm down,” he whispered, a feeble attempt to pacify you. 

“No! I am not going to fucking ‘calm down’. You—you fucking cheated on me w-with Chrissy!” Your voice wavered, and you hated it, your anger wasn’t powerful enough to wash away the pain you felt, and tears were stinging your eyes again. 

“Jesus how many times do I have to tell you she fucking kissed me! I-I didn’t fuckin’ cheat!” He defended but you shook your head.  “And, anyway, didn’t you fucking kiss that freak?” 

A lump formed in your throat, a bitter taste accompanying the memory. Yes, you did. But it was after one of your infamous breaks with Billy, the two of you were broken up. Eddie and you promised each other that it was nothing, that it would just complicate things between the two of you. And you knew, if Billy ever found out about it, he would not leave it alone, he wouldn’t let you hang out with him. He would mess with him till no end. And you didn’t want Eddie involved in it. Ever.

“I told you we didn’t!” You lied through your teeth, it didn’t matter now. What you did could never compare to what he fucking did. Ever. But you were starting to realize that maybe, just maybe, Chrissy spreading that rumor was not an accident, at all. 

Anger simmered, building like a storm inside you. “Don’t try to shift the blame on me, you fucking kissed her!” 

“I didn’t—”

“Did you not fucking kiss her back you asshole?” You interrupted, the surge of anger propelling you forward. Your hands found his shoulders, pushing him roughly.  Billy stammered, opening his mouth to speak. “I-I only for like a minute, then I fuckin’ pulled away, I swear!” He defended himself, making you huff angrily.

“It’s over, Billy.” You muttered, gaze meeting his. 

“I mean it.” You added, his sympathetic gaze was quick to turn cold, and it made you feel uneasy, how comfortable he was going from gentle to rough so quickly. 

His lips twisted into a cynical skepticism, “for how long this time? Eight hours? Two fucking days? A week?” There was that lump in your throat again. Billy didn’t believe that you could leave him, and you felt that tight, unexplainable feeling sink into your chest, he thought you’d stay with him no matter what, like a fucking object that he could do whatever he wants to. It’s sickeningly insulting, your hand raises to slap him, but he’s faster. 

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” His harsh grip on your wrist hurts, but what hurts more is the fresh bruise he left on your forearm two days ago, another fight that got too grabby. 

“L-let me go,” you embarrassingly begged, wincing at his relentless grip. Your face scrunched with pain, eyes squeezing shut. The tenderness of the bruise made the slightest touch unbearable.

His hand twisted your wrist further, harsh hold squeezing more tears out of you than you realized. “B-billy,” you begged, again. Only then, Billy noticed your discomfort, swallowing hard before reluctantly releasing your arm. An emptiness replaced his hold, and your vision blurred as you tried to reassure yourself, fingertips gently tracing the purplish bruise.

“D-does forever work?” It comes out as a whisper, words tangling to each other when you recollect yourself from him, still trying to find the broken pieces he scattered, leaving without another word. 

And he didn’t bother to run after you, watching your figure leave while guilt set in, the sight of that purple blotch on your arm, how you flinched at any contact, the way you closed up during arguments, it was all because of him. All because he couldn’t fucking help himself; his anger or his need for control. 

He doesn’t escape the cycle. 

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you walked away, tears streaming down your face. Your hands shook as you wiped them away, the weight of everything breaking free in a flood of sobs.

You immediately make your way to the drink stand, praying to whatever god there is that no one else can perceive you for the rest of the night so that you can drown in your sorrows and drink all of it away. 

You barely registered Chrissy approaching you between sobs and the harsh scoop of the 'pure fire,' as Steve called it, into the red cup clutched in your fists. “Can I talk to you?” Her voice, when it finally reached your ears, felt mocking, and carried a giddy undertone that enraged you more and more. 

“No,” you scoffed, refusing to entertain the idea, turning your attention back to the sorrowful task of filling your cup.

“Come on, take a chill pill,” she attempted to joke, her usual signature line falling flat. Your glare, sharp as the knives you felt in your back, met her with anger. She huffed a sigh of breath. 

“Please I’m sorry, just let me talk—”

“What the fuck do you want to talk about, huh?” You set the cup down harshly, the impact of it had the drink sloshing all over the surface, “the fact that you tried to kiss my boyfriend?” you interrupted with a spiteful look.

Her wavering sympathy dissipated at your accusation, eyes turning cold as she furrowed her brows. “What?” she hissed. “Tried? Is that what he told you?” She scoffed.

Your face scrunched. “I wouldn’t put it past you.” You spat back, you didn’t care if your words hurt her in the slightest, your thoughts were purely consumed by her betrayal. 

 “Excuse me?” Chrissy’s eyes narrowed.

“Jesus, Pinky are you really that fucking gullible?” She asked tilting her head almost mockingly. 

“Or do you really think that highly of yourself?” Your mouth struggled to open, heart dropped to your stomach when you realized she didn’t even care.

“We were in that bathroom for twenty minutes, use your imagination.” That goddamn smirk curved on her lips, and you knew you have never felt this amount of pain before, it was insulting, to ever think you called her your friend. 

“Oh, you are such a fucking-” You could feel your blood boiling, almost ready to attack her, your drunken haze giving you enough courage. 

But her annoying tone interrupted you, “Did you really think you were perfect? That you were enough for Billy?” 

“What did you think? That he would want a fucking charity case like you?” The tears pooled your eyes again, but you weren’t going to let her see it, so you held them in, clenching your fists as your breath caught in your throat. All of her insults became a deafening background noise to your ears. “Newsflash, Pinky you have junkies for parents. You’re too messed up. Even for Billy.” 

The heat rushed to your cheeks at the last insult, earning a visceral reaction because of how cruel she was. Disgust and anger overtook your senses quicker than you intended them to, you felt small, and so fucking stupid. 

Regret gnawed at you – You should’ve never let her in. You should’ve never let her comfort you. You should’ve never told her anything. It was all your fucking fault. For trusting anyone that came in your way. 

Just because you wanted to feel loved, just because you wanted to fill that void that your parents left. And it was so ironic, considering they couldn’t give two shits about you, yet your deepest wound would always be them. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic, Chrissy.” You spat, masking all of your emotions. You had mastered it at this point. You didn’t care what she said about you, she could keep her mouth running, because she was dead to you. Maybe you could’ve forgiven her for the whole Billy thing because fuck him too, he was no saint, right? 

But making fun of your parents was one line she couldn’t cross. 

“You’re more fit for that trailer trash freak.” Scratch that. Making fun of Eddie was one line she couldn’t fucking cross. Eddie. She couldn’t breathe near him if she wanted to, she didn’t deserve it. 

Your teeth grounded together, and fury fueled your rise to your feet. “Don’t ever call him that again.” The words slipped between gritted teeth, the realization of how close you had walked to her only dawned as you unintentionally cornered her.

She looked taken aback, brows pinched together. “What are you gonna do? Go all trailer trash on me too?” She chuckled, annoyingly loud.

You shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t. 

But she also shouldn’t have insulted Eddie. 

You are ready to lunge at her, feet planted closer as your hands are formed as fists at your side, and just as you’re about to take another step, a harsh arm yanked you away. Seconds away from getting that satisfaction, and just like that, you’re ripped away from it.

“What the—” You turned swiftly to see the culprit, as you harshly shook off the hold on you, your bruises still hurt, causing loud whines to part from your lips. Steve. Chrissy was back in your face, mocking laughter dancing in her eyes. “God, you’re predictable.” The laughter stung, and the pressure of your anger almost built up in your jaw. “Fuck you, you stupid—” You try again. No luck. Of course, Steve, with an unyielding grip, dragged you away.

Chrissy walked past, reveling in the scorned look etched on your face. She paused, turning with a smirk. “Oh, and next time you get a ‘freak accident’, make sure you don’t forget your jacket.” She pointed toward the fresh bruise on your forearm, courtesy to Billy who grabbed you a little too hard during another heated argument. Then she threw the jacket right next to you, on the floor landing with a mocking thud as she left with an irritating cackle. 

Impressively, Steve picked it up while maintaining his hold on you. “Let me go!” Your almost-scream echoed, his hands were unintentionally grazing the tender bruise, and it fucking hurt.

Only when he knew Chrissy was out of sight did he release his grip, and you shook him off with an exasperated huff. “What the fuck?!?” You questioned, gaze burning with fury. “Right back at you, what the fuck was that, Pinky?” He asked, tone more concerned than angry.  “Nothing,” you muttered. It was such an obvious lie that Steve rolled his eyes. “That won’t work with me.”

In a defiant move, you grabbed the drink, aiming to drown the tension, but Steve intercepted, harshly putting it back down. A glare shot his way. “Will you leave me alone?” “No.” He protested with a pinch of his brows. “So, tell me.”  “Steve,” you whined. You didn’t want to be interrogated by him, you knew he cared. But you just couldn’t handle it.  “I’m serious, you do realize this is my house, right?” His tone carried a veiled threat and you rolled your eyes at him. “I could kick you out any time I wanted to.” Your gaze narrowed, disbelief etched across your face. "You wouldn’t do shit." With a raise of his brows, Steve swiftly picked you up, slinging you over his shoulders. It all happened so fast that you weren’t quick to start softly punching his back and screaming.  God, he really was good at distracting you, so good that his little act almost coaxed a reluctant smile from your lips.  “Put me down!” You yelled behind him, your fists landed on his back with a not-so-impactful force. 

“Are you gonna tell me?” Steve asked, relishing the way you continued to thrash over his shoulder. Your face grew hotter every second, and with an annoyed huff, you finally nodded. “Yes, Jesus Christ!”

He gently lowered you to the ground, and a teasing glint danced in Steve's eyes as he quipped, "Atta girl." You responded with a scoff and a mock annoyed chuckle.

“So?” He questioned, arms crossing against his chest, his demeanor shifted,  the playful atmosphere dissipating as his expression turned serious.  “I caught Chrissy and Billy in the bathroom.”  “What?” Genuine shock washed over Steve's features, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Yeah I—” “And she still had the nerve to say all those fucking things?” Embarrassment surged, fluttering your cheeks hot. “You, uh, you heard those?” Steve responded with a quick nod.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Pinky, not with me.” He reassured you, his hand finding a comforting place on your waist, “she's the one who should be fuckin’ embarrassed. Jesus.”

“Thought she was supposed to be your friend,” Steve said, his gaze softening with empathy.

“Me too.” A sad chuckle escaped your lips.

His gaze lingered on the gnarly bruises decorating your arm, a visible wince reflecting in his expression. "And what about those?" he gulped, concern etching lines on his face.

You were quick to dismiss it with a wave, too quickly that of fucking course Steve knew something was wrong, you didn’t even dare to look at the bruises, or him in the eyes. 

“Bike accident,” you muttered, lying through your teeth.

"Since when do you have a bike?" Steve questioned and gauged your reaction, he knew you were lying, you were avoiding his gaze, and you looked visibly nervous, but he didn’t want to push this. It was too personal, and this wasn’t the place for it.  So, he understood, of course, he did. He or Nancy should’ve been the one you confided in. But you didn’t want to burden them with your problems.

“If—” Steve took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “If you ever need to talk about anything—and I mean anything—you can always talk to me. Hell, us! You can always talk to us, you know that, right?” His hand was quick to caress your back, gently, letting you know that he would always be there.

You nodded, but you wanted this pity party to be over, you wanted—needed Eddie. Just one hug from him. And maybe a joint.

“I-I know, thank you.” You hesitantly replied, stumbling over your words.

“You need anything?” He asked sincerely.

You shook your head softly. “No… but have you seen Eddie?” 

“He was selling to some idiots on the porch, might still be there.” He shrugged.

You were quick to nod, you had to leave, immediately. You didn’t want to worry Steve. “Thanks, Stevie, see you around?” You hummed, managing a smile that he mirrored.

And with that you were quick to grab your drink, downing it with a hiss before you almost ran to the porch, you didn’t want to see Billy or Chrissy again. You needed to find Eddie. And god, was it hot, you didn’t know if it was because of everything that transpired in the last twenty minutes, or it was because of the alcohol flowing in your system but you were burning up. And you didn’t want to wear your jacket. You should have.

A harsh breeze of air hit you once you finally stepped on the porch, fresh yet biting, serving as a slap of reality that had your eyes watering, you didn’t know why, you didn’t know how, but the tears came immediately.  It was pathetic, really. You with the bruises, half-drunk, discovering your friend with your boyfriend, breaking up with your boyfriend, and then earning insults from the said friend who was hooking up with your boyfriend.  A rollercoaster of a fucking night, but it was just getting started.  Slouching on the porch stairs, your head hung low to your knees as you covered your face with shame, almost. Mind reeling in the worst way possible. 

The insults stuck to it, Chrissy’s plump lips, Billy’s disheveled hair. His harsh grip on your arm. The way he mocked you. The insults Chrissy uttered. It was all a fucking mess. And you couldn’t handle any more of it. 

All the emotions you pent up over the years wanted to flow through your eyes, ruining you, completely breaking you apart. 

The red cup in your hand was crumpled roughly, each attempt to stifle your cries only intensified the shaking of the cup, spilling over to the stairs. 

Where was he? 

Where was Eddie? 

Your mind was spinning and the only thing you could think of was him. 

“Pinky?” The soft tone of his voice sliced through the tumult in your mind, and your head snapped up, eyes immediately watered at the sight.

There he stood, a boyish grin adorning his face, shaggy bangs falling over his amber eyes, a stupid leather jacket, and those stupid black jeans with chains attached to the hip. Him.

“Finally! Been lookin’ everywhere for you, sweetheart,” His voice wrapped around you like a reassuring embrace, but your foggy mind took a while for everything to register. When it did, you shot up, the world spinning dizzily, as you threw yourself into his arms. Sobs escaped freely, muffled against his jacket. 

His voice immediately softened, gentle hands running through your hair as he cooed. “Hey.. hey… what happened?” His tone so sweetly sick that you couldn’t help but melt into him, letting his warmth take over. 

Your breath caught up in your throat, and Eddie gently pulled away from the hug. Soft hands cupped your tear-streaked cheeks, grounding you with a simple touch. You gave into him, succumbing to his tenderness. 

This was what you needed. And it was almost as clear as day. It should’ve always been him. 

"I-I-" Your words stumbled over your sobs, the weight on your chest making it hard to breathe. Eddie's concerned eyes met yours, wiping away the tears on your cheek gently. 

“Honey, hey, hey…” He caught your attention, his soothing voice breaking through the haze. His brows furrowed with worry, and you blinked open your eyes, focusing on him. "Breathe, can you do that for me, sweetheart?" Like a lifeline, his words pulled you back from the edge. Concern etched on his face, apparent from his brows creasing.

What the fuck happened? And who fucking did this to you?

Eddie had a good idea who did it: Billy. The very thought of that name sent a surge of anger through his veins. Hadn't this asshole put you through enough already? What could he have fucking done now?

You drew in a shuddering breath, and Eddie, recognizing your struggle, encouraged you while soothingly caressing your hair, calming you down further and further.

"Deep breaths, just like that. Breathe for me," he coaxed, and you obediently followed, shallow breaths gradually returning to normal as you focused on him.

His touch was gentle, hands still caressing your cheeks as he asked with genuine concern, "Are you doing okay now?" He asked, gaze mellow and lips overturned with worry

You nodded, but it wasn't convincing enough for him. As your hiccups persisted, you finally managed to articulate through the tears, "Chrissy."

Eddie's heart tightened, a quizzical look on his face. Chrissy? What did she have to do with this?

"Billy hooked up with Chrissy," you revealed, it was the most clear you had spoken to him and he still had a hard time understanding it.  

His brows pinched together both in anger and confusion, his hold on you faltering once he registered your words.

So, Billy cheated on you? 

Oh, now he was going to kill that bastard. Once he made sure you were okay, he was going to beat the shit out of him. 

"What?" he exclaimed a little too loudly, his hold on you momentarily faltering in sheer shock.

"They—what?" he stammered.

"I caught them in the bathroom, Eddie, I—" Your tears blurred your vision again, and in frustration, you ran your hand through your hair. 

That's when Eddie's eyes widened, and he pointed to something, asking, "What's that?"

You froze, desperately attempting to dismiss it, but Eddie wasn't having it. His hands gently flew to your forearm, and you flinched just in time, hastily trying to put on the jacket you should've already been wearing. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Now he was going to ask so many questions, and you knew he wouldn’t let go like Steve did, and he would know if you lied, in a heartbeat. 

He huffed quickly, ignoring your protests as he softly held onto your arm, just around the bruise, being careful not to cause any more pain. Your lip trembled in the process. Shit, shit, shit. 

“Pinky…” he murmured, worry creasing his brows at the royal purple mark.

If Eddie knew, there was no turning back, there was no way he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. A part of you was happy about it—maybe he could pull you away, maybe everything would be okay. 

But the other part of you was terrified. Because you know he wouldn’t think of your bruises as nothing like you did and like Billy kept assuring you, he wouldn’t just let this go like you would. He would stand up for you, and while you were grateful, you were equally scared. 

“N-nothing,” you muttered, avoiding his intense gaze. 

“That’s not nothing,” his hand extended, slowly but surely making you reveal the full extent of the huge, gnarly bruise on your arm, with another one freshly forming from the hold Billy had on you earlier. Fuck.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, trying to avoid the genuine gasp waiting to escape his lips, “What happened?” His gaze found yours. 

“Bike accident,” you lied through your teeth, a stupid fucking lie. He would never buy it.

“You don’t have a bike.” He heaved a sigh of breath, the thought of these bruises forming because of Billy didn’t even form his mind, sure he was awful and an asshole, but Eddie never thought he would be that awful. 

“I used Mike’s.” Another lie. 

“Did something bad happen?”

“No!”

“Pinky,” he said it so seriously that you felt bad.  “Tell me, please.” His tone was awfully worrying. 

How the fuck were you going to tell him?

“We were arguing—”

“What?” He quickly snapped back, not at you, but at what you were implying. He could almost feel the color draining from his cheeks. You surely didn’t mean…

“It-it was nothing!” You defended with a dismissive wave, but it didn’t stop his eyes widening. “We just- we were just arguing, and-and then he tried to hold me but i-it was just a little tight!” 

“H-he did this to you?” Eddie’s jaw clenched in an instant, and he tried his best not to react, trying not to show you how he could feel his blood practically boiling, you’d been through enough, you didn’t need to deal with calming him down now, too. 

“No, no, it was just a little accident. It doesn’t matter!” 

“Yes, it fucking does!”

“No, it doesn’t!” Frustrated, you spat back, a bit of your pent-up anger lashing out at Eddie.

“I’m going to kill that asshole,” He scowled, rising to his feet, eyes spitting fire and you were quick to have a strong hold on his arm. “N-no! Please.” You whispered, the desperation in your voice slicing through the tension. Your touch brings him back to the present, reminding him that you matter more than his impulsive reactions.

Eddie stopped with a sigh of breath, gaze returning to you, and you nervously licked your lips fingers combing through your hair to gather your thoughts. “Look, Eddie, I-I just needed to see you, I just needed to feel normal for a moment, please, not now.” Your gaze was sympathetic, you looked so hurt that Eddie’s brows scrunched in pain.

He opened his mouth, about to speak, about to tell you that he could protect you, but your brows furrowed, and that teary-eyed look returned on your face. “Please,” Desperate, tugging on his arm, and he had no choice but to nod. He could deal with this later. 

“O-okay,” he muttered, meekly, swallowing the lump in his throat. His stomach churned in pain and anger when he realized that bastard actually fucking hurt you. And you really thought it was all okay…

“What do you need, honey?” Sickeningly sweet tone was back again, and it warmed you up, removing the coldness that sat on your chest. 

“A hug…” You muttered, “and maybe a joint.” 

That brought an unintentional grin to both of your faces. “C’mere.” He whispered, arms quick to wrap around you, holding you close. The subtle sway of his body rocked you in the promise that you were not alone, his gaze filled with concern and you couldn’t help but melt into him when he pressed a kiss onto your hair. 

Too engulfed, too distracted to realize someone almost sprinting toward the two of you. Before you could process the approaching figure, a voice cut through the air, sharp and accusatory. “You didn’t kiss him? Bullshit!”

Confusion etched across your face as Eddie's protective arms tightened around you. “What the hell are you—” 

Billy, possibly fueled by alcohol, swaggered toward you both with an air of aggression.  “Stay the fuck away from my girlfriend.”

The scent of alcohol wafted from Billy, and Eddie’s unbridled rage was now on the surface, he wore a scowl, eyes daggering through Billy. His hand protectively remained on your hips, gently pulling you aside. You tried to look at him, silently pleaded that you didn’t want this, that you didn’t need him to do this. But it was no fucking use. 

“She’s not your fucking girlfriend, dipshit.” 

“Stay the fuck out of this, freak.” He ignored Eddie, rage now full on display as he fully turned toward you.

“What, you gonna deny it, or no?” Caught in a crossfire, you felt a surge of panic, and just as you were about to speak, Eddie did it for you. 

“No, she’s not gonna fuckin’ deny it.” Your eyes widened, blinking rapidly to process what Eddie just confessed to.

“Eddie—” You tried but again, no use, Eddie took a step closer to him.

“We did kiss.” A smirk played on his lips, he was doing it on purpose, he wanted to get Billy to punch him. 

“I fucking kissed her, asshole.” Shit, you internally cursed at him.

The tension thickened, you could see it in the ticking jaw and bulging vein on Billy's neck. He moved forward, poised to strike at Eddie. “You have the nerve you fuckin’ freak!” He stepped forward, attempting to get at him. 

You acted quick, acting as a shield to Eddie, you didn’t care, you couldn’t let him get hurt because of you. You couldn’t handle that. 

“Billy, don’t!” Your desperate plea was drowned out by the pounding music and the escalating chaos. Despite your efforts, Billy's aggression only intensified. A forceful push sent you sprawling to the unforgiving ground. Tiny rocks bit into your palms, and your knees scraped against the abrasive cement.

The impact on the ground sent a shockwave of pain through your body, a groan escaping your lips at the pain. Your world spun harder, you didn’t even know what to focus on first; the throbbing bruise on your cheek, Billy's kiss with Chrissy, the haze of your drunkenness, or the startling fact that Billy had pushed you to the ground. All of it made you dizzy.

You could barely blink when Eddie knocked Billy out cold, with three well-aimed punches, lunging at him the moment he laid hands on you, your gaze narrowed to make sure you saw it correctly. 

Eddie was fine. Eddie was okay. 

“Sweetheart, oh my god.” Eddie's voice cut through the haze, his worried tone a soothing balm. With a gentle scoop, he lifted you to your feet. 

You didn’t want to be there when Billy woke up, some drunk idiot could help him. Or Chrissy would, for all you cared. And as if Eddie understood you, he quickly helped you move away from the scene, guiding you towards the row of parked cars, away from everything.

Once you were at a safer distance, Eddie tried to hold you, face etched in concern, as he ventured to ask, “You doing okay?”

The scowl you wore was anything but, “Why did you do that?!?” The words spat from your lips surprised him.

“Excuse me?” Eddie responded, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yo-you shouldn’t have told him!” Worry was etched all over your face, Eddie didn’t realize the consequences of what he did would have, but you did, oh, you did. 

“D-do you realize what you just fucking did?” You wanted to cry, or you were already crying, you couldn’t tell when your cheeks were wet already. 

“I—”

You interrupted him. “I-I don’t need this, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset—”

“I’m not upset!” Your scowl deepened, face flushed with frustration. 

He tried to reach closer, tried to help you but you refused. “Don’t- just don’t!” 

“I-I don’t need to be saved or protected, okay?” Your lips wobbled, “just l-leave me alone, Eddie.” 

“What?” His face fell, lips downturned, as he struggled to comprehend your sudden detachment.

“Leave me alone, I-I can take care of myself!” You begged, but that anger sank on your chest, it made you bitter, made you want to close up entirely.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” He spat, hands ruffling through his hair in anger. He took a step closer to you, stomach churning with the need to hold you.

“Pinky don’t you fucking see it? I care about you, you’re the only thing I care about in this goddamn world! How the fuck do you expect me to leave when you’re hurt?” His voice cracked, and your gaze softened with it.

“How do you expect me to not beat the shit out of that fucking asshole for doing that to you?” The raw emotion in his voice was enough to pierce through your defenses, making your heartache.

“I get it, I get that you’re tough, but shit—”

“I can’t just sit and watch you get hurt… I can’t.” The truth in his words hung heavy in the air, it was almost like a shift between the two of you, like the barrier finally dissipating, so that the true feelings would prevail. 

Yet, despite that you pushed back, your own stubbornness overtaking you. “But I want you to leave me alone!” 

You knew your words were nothing but a lie, you needed someone, him specifically. Sure, you had always been tough, but this? This was too much. And you knew he was the only one who could make you feel better, yet like an idiot, you pushed him away. That’s all you were good at, wasn’t it?

Your tears came back when you saw his face, defeated, all because of you. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you. He deserved better, he shouldn’t be roped up in this mess. You had to push him away, you fucking had to. 

He didn’t do anything but look at you. Really, really looked at you. 

And you looked a mess, hair disheveled, mascara running down your cheeks, bruises on your arm, knees scrapped, lip wobbling, and you could barely stand. The worst possible condition he saw you in. 

He knew what you were doing, you were pushing him away because you were afraid. A move, he always pulled, a move he was good at until he met you. He understood you, possibly in a way no one ever could. 

Eddie, undeterred, stepped closer to you with a calm determination. Your head snapped up at the movement, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration. 

“No.” He muttered. 

“What?” 

“I’m not gonna leave.”

“But—”

“No but’s, wear your jacket, I’m taking you home.” His tone was clear, not harsh, not soft either. Just letting you know that he was here, he was always going to be here and he was not leaving, even if you tried so hard to make him. 

“I-I don’t think I wanna go home.” You muttered.

“My place?” You nod softly. 

You don’t know why it caused you to break down again, but it did, tears were your friend and they were overspilling faster than you intended them to. His arms opened up instinctively and you didn’t hesitate to let him engulf you. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmured between sobs, the words catching in your throat. “‘M sorry, didn’t mean it, ‘m so sorry, sorry, so—” Hiccups interrupted your apologies, but Eddie hushed you gently, his presence making you feel at ease.

“I know, I know…” he cooed, hand ghosting over your back, the hold he had on you tight enough to let you know that you were safe. “It’s okay, honey.” He reassured. The sweet name had your heart beat faster once you looked up at him. 

“I-I didn’t mean it.” You stammered all teary-eyed, and Eddie couldn’t help the way his chest tightened, you didn’t deserve this, you didn’t deserve to cry. He was going to make sure you were okay.

“Hey, hey, I know.” He cooed softly, gently caressing your face.

“P-please, don’t leave.” Your tone framed the words so gut-wrenchingly painful that Eddie ached, his heart broke a million times, over and over, pieces to pieces. 

“Never.” 

“I’d never leave you.” 

NOW STEVE'S BRUNCH.

With the missing pieces of the puzzle finally being revealed to Eddie, that memory was what he replayed in his head, over and over, until he finally couldn’t handle the way Steve reassured you, hand on your waist as he told you idiotic jokes. 

He couldn’t shake off it, he shouldn’t just leave it like this. He should fight for you, he should do something. His hand was quick to fish out the notebook, his eyes scanned through it to find the perfect note, maybe, this would help you realize that he had always been there for you. A feeble attempt, but he didn’t have any other choice, you didn’t want to talk to him, so he just slipped the note to Jonathan and left. 

You watched him leave, a scowl on your face, heart aching when he didn’t even utter a goodbye to you. It was hypocritical, considering that you had asked him not to acknowledge you, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t help yourself when it came to him.

Hours had passed since that moment and you had apologized to Jonathan and Nancy a hundred times by now, but they shrugged it off without a care. God, you really didn’t deserve them, did you? 

And everything was going finally back to normal. Sipping the cocktails and munching on the amazing pancakes Steve had made everyone, and dabbling your feet in the water as laughter was all that surrounded the group. 

This was what it should’ve been, all of you, and Eddie. If he hadn’t brought her. 

But of course, all the bliss disappeared once Steve decided to bring it up again. 

“So… how do you feel?” You threw him a glare, splashing some of the chlorine-filled water directly at his hair. 

“Jesus, not the fucking hair!” He groaned, ruffling it with his daggering glare thrown at you. “Now you have to tell me!” He insisted, shoulder nudging yours. 

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you muttered, facing away from him as you felt everyone eyeing you. 

“Maybe, we should.” Jonathan chimed in, making you furrow your brows. 

“What does that mean?” Steve replied before you did. 

With a sigh, Jonathan extended a rustled paper, and you immediately recognized what it was, “He said he wanted me to give this to you.” 

“A note? So brave of him,” Steve mocked with a roll of his eyes, groaning when Nancy elbowed him. 

Robin hid her giggle with her hand, and Nancy threw her an icy glare, shutting both of them up. 

Your brows furrowed in disbelief, lips kissing your teeth as you snatched it out of his hand. “Oh, he did?” You didn’t mean to sound sarcastic, but it was pissing you off at this point. 

He didn’t utter a single word to you. And now he didn’t even have the decency to give you this? 

Steve was right. 

Why was he being a fucking coward? 

You were quick to get up from the side of the pool, plopping onto the nearest chair to read the contents. 

You could feel their eyes on you but they were quick to hide it, going back to their chatter. 

“When she gave me this, I never thought I’d actually end up writing in it for anything other than lyrics. Some ideas. But ever since we kissed, I can’t stop or control my thoughts, it’s been nonstop flowing and this is the only way I can express it. The only thing to make me feel sane, to make it seem like it really was real. My mouth hasn’t shut up about her since she kissed it, my thoughts haven’t been okay ever since I saw the curl of her lips right after she kissed me. I know how hard it is for her, I know how much she struggles with that dipshit who doesn't deserve her. But it doesn’t matter, now. I’ll wait. I’ll wait forever if she asks me to. I’ll do anything if she asks me to.”  

You turned the note over, nothing else was written, with your brows pinched together angrily, you smushed it into your pocket, ignoring the protests of everyone while you jumped into your car in a hurry. 

What the fuck was he thinking giving you this? 

What the fuck was his problem? 

If he wanted you, why couldn’t he just tell you? 

And if so, why did he even bring Chrissy? 

It wasn’t long till you made it to Eddie’s trailer, and with your harsh knocks, it wasn’t long till Eddie opened it. 

“Jesus Christ—” His words fell in the air at the sight of you, eyes widening. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” You yelled, lines on your forehead deepening into a frown as you held up the note in his face. 

“You didn’t utter a single word to me, and you’re just giving this note to Jonathan?” He stammered, mouth unable to find the words to speak, not really expecting you to confront him like this. 

“Why don’t you just say it to my fucking face?”

“I would, if you weren’t so busy.”

Your brows pinched together, “excuse me?” 

“Is this some kind of a joke?” He asked.

“Y-you tell me not to speak with you! You tell me that we shouldn’t ever see each other again, then you leave with Steve and somehow I’m the problem?” He said, exasperated.

Was he… jealous? Of Steve?

“No, the problem is you being a coward!” You raised your voice, hand pressing the note to his chest dramatically. 

“You think I’m a coward? I’m the furthest fucking thing from it, and you know that.”

“You think a coward would put everything aside for you? You think a coward would run away with you?” 

“O-okay, okay!” You want him to stop speaking, because you know he’s right, he wasn’t a coward, at least when it came to that. But he was a coward when it came to his feelings, and maybe it wouldn’t have pissed you off this much if you weren’t one too. 

The two of you were dancing around what you actually needed to talk about, feelings, and it was getting ridiculous at this point, because neither of you could pull away, no matter how many times you said you would. He pulled you in, and you pulled him in. 

“I fucked up, I did. But don’t ever act like I’m the one who ran away when things got too hard, okay?” He leaned further on the door frame, face inches away from yours, it made your breath hitch, heart thumping inside of your ribcage. 

Your words meshed together when your gaze stooped on his lips. He was close, so close, and he occupied your mind. “H-How did we even go back to this? It’s like we’re moving around in a stupid fucking circle and—” You took a deep breath to gather your thoughts. 

“I told you I didn’t want to do this back and forth with you and here we are again!” It was frustrating, everything with him was frustrating, but you couldn’t stay away from him, how could you?

Those five years had been hell. 

“Are you kidding?” His words were dripping with irritation, “You came to my door! Started screaming in my face and waving notes!”

“I only did it because you were too much of a fucking coward to give me the note!” Now it was fully getting ridiculous, arguments turning into a bickering old couple. 

“I told you I’m not a coward—” He defended.

You interrupted with, “Fine, fine! You are not a coward whatever!” 

“What you are is fucking infuriating!” You spat, taking a step closer to him. 

“Infuriating? You started this!” He fueled it, mirroring your steps, one more step from either of you, and his lips would be pressed onto yours. 

“Oh, so I kissed Chrissy?” You scoffed, arms crossed against your chest.

“Jesus, that’s not what I meant!” He almost groaned, frustrated. 

“You want me to prove it to you? You want me to tell you how much I messed up? I’ll fucking do it.” 

There was that tension between the two of you again, it wasn’t filled with hatred in the slightest, but there was so much unresolved shit that it might as well suffocate you if Eddie stepped any closer, it ached, making a way to your heart. 

Three hours ago you wanted him out of your life, for good. Now, all you wanted to do was see him prove himself to you, it was stupid, psychotic, and maybe a little selfish. But you couldn’t help yourself when it’s him. 

“You will?” You stammered, you didn’t fully know what that meant, but it was somehow making your heart jump knowing that maybe the notes still meant something. Maybe, just maybe he wanted you, still. Your forehead relaxed, and lips itched to curl into a smile. 

And of fucking course, Eddie caught it. “Yes.” He said, all smugly, making you want to roll your eyes. 

“G-good, uh, until then, I-I mean it, I don’t want to see you.” You shifted uncomfortably in your place, fully realizing how close he was to you, and it somehow brought confidence to Eddie.

He tssked, “Then you probably shouldn’t come to my door, then.” His nose scrunched sarcastically, eliciting an eye roll from you. 

“Munson.” You warned. 

“Pinky?”

“You really are infuriating.”

“Am I?” He tilted his head all adorably. 

“Yes.”

“See you tonight, sweetheart.” He winked. 

And you groaned with that, flipping him off while you hurried back to your car. 

He closed the door with an amused smile, his nose scrunching as he replayed the conversation in his head. 

“So you two good now?” Wayne’s grouchy tone almost had Eddie jump in place.

“Jesus Christ, Wayne! Were you just eavesdropping on our conversation?”

“What? You said y’all had the worst fight of your lives, that don’t seem like it to me.” He shrugged.

“We did— but uh, I don’t know, I just don’t know what the actual fuck is going with us, I thought I was dead to her but then she just barges in—”

“She cares about you, Eddie.” Wayne sighed. 

“I know that girl like the palm of my hand, if you were dead to her, she wouldn’t even acknowledge you, just her bein’ a big fireball shows she still cares.” 

Eddie sighed, “But she said—” 

“Hell to what she said! Both of y’all are idiots when it comes to this, you go prove to her that you’re sorry, tell her how you feel and then you can thank me.” He exclaimed.

“But—”

“Boy, do what I told you, apologize to that sweet girl, and make sure you do it until she forgives you.” Eddie threw a look at Wayne. 

And Wayne dismissed it with his finger pointing at him, “I mean it, Eddie, after all the shit you told me about what that little blondie did to my Pinky, you should be on your knees beggin’!” 

“Okay, okay!” Eddie admitted the defeat.

“Jesus, old man, it wouldn’t hurt for you to just take your nephew’s side once in a while, would it?” He mocked dramatically. 

He threw a daggering look at Eddie, “Fine, fine, I’ll apologize.” Wayne narrowed his gaze. “A proper apology.” Eddie muttered, almost embarrased. “And?” Wayne raised his brows. Eddie groaned loudly, “and I’ll tell her how I feel.”

✦ final authors note — okay i promise the next two chapters are going to be less angst-filled (like gonna be worth the wait i promiseee) 🤭 and yes the note was inspired by alex turner's letter to alexa chung okay!! reading that at like 13 altered my brain chemistry a LOT. anyway like i said pls leave some feedback i swear it motivates me a LOTTT. thank u for reading ilyy💗

[nmakii]

THE MONSTER’S GONE

— don’t be scared, lucifer is here

— inspired by a little alastor hallucination i had tonight, but it didn’t really fit him, so who’s hell’s greatest dad? gn!reader

today was the worst. hell just seemed to get worse— if that was even possible.

you fell into bed, crying your eyes out, the blanket you held became wet with tears and snot. as you struggled to stop your panicked breaths, a knock came from your door.

“sweetie? it’s dad. i heard you run to your room crying. is everything ok, sweetpea?” lucifer asked as he sat on the side of your bed.

“i’m okay… i just want to go to bed already…” you frowned, hiding further in your bed. “you haven’t had dinner yet, you sure?” he asked as he ran a finger in your hair. “you won’t understand it, dad…” you scrunched your nose up while your dad kneeled to look you in the eye.

“sure, i might not understand it… but, won’t you let me comfort you at least? i wanna know that my baby went to bed not crying.” he said as he ran his thumb along your jawline. “okay…” you murmured out past the small hics coming from you.

lucifer pulled you to his chest as he sat much more comfortably on your bed. he laid on your pillow as he stroked your back, patting your head gently as you cried into his shoulder.

“it’s okay, baby… whatever it is, it’s over now… just rest your head, you’ll be okay. this isn’t the end of the world, you’re a strong kid. y’know how i know that? cause you’re my baby and it’s in our blood to be fighters.” he smiled, scratching your scalp as he comforted you.

as your tears subsided and you grew tired, you dad sang a soft song, an old one as well… something he used to sing to you and charlie when you had nightmares as a child.

“close your eyes….

have no fear…

the monster’s gone, he’s on the run

and your daddy’s here…”

your dad whispered to you as you fell asleep.

“my beautiful, beautiful, beautiful angel…” he spoke, kissing you on the forehead before humming the tune until you fell asleep.

“you’ll get through this, sweetie. you’re my kid after all…”

[fairyofshampgyu]

Devil by the Window 𖤐⁶⁶⁶𖤍♱

genre: smut, succubus demon

Pairing: beomgyu x succubus! Reader

Warnings: reader is a s*x demon, smut, sub! beomgyu, dom! reader, blow job, pegging, riding, ass slapping, hair pulling, overstimulation

Word count: 1.5k

No matter what beomgyu does, he cannot seem to sleep at all.

He could scream from the utter frustration. He feels tired so why isn’t he asleep?! Could it be the coffee he had in the morning? But he always has coffee and it never does that to him. Was it the thriller he watched with Kai? He doesn’t really find stuff like that scary though. Beomgyu has tried everything from counting sheep to asmr whale sounds, none of it seems to work.

That’s when he feels the outside breeze coming from his window and being hit with the sudden yet subtle coldness. He swears he can hear something whispering his name continuously but it’s probably just the wind. 

Wasn’t his window closed? He could have sworn he never opened it. That’s strange. He leaves the comforting warmness of his sheets and gets up to close the window, lying back down and beginning to close his eyes. But he feels the chilliness almost instantly again, he sighs, opening his eyes and noticing his window was open somehow yet again.

What the hell? Now he’s a bit freaked out, there’s no way the wind could just open his window like that. He closed it fully shut too. A million thoughts race his mind, it could be because it’s dark—he’s been deprived of sleep for hours, watching that thriller earlier on and also he can be a bit of a hypochondriac—but the only reasonable explanation he could think of was a serial killer.

He’s going to get murdered tonight. Unsuspecting victim gets brutally stabbed in the middle of the night in their own home. He can already see the headlines. That’s when he sees a shadow slowing creeping in through his window. Okay, he’s absolutely, definitely, completely going to die tonight. He tries to scream but is muffled by their hand.

“Shushh relax, baby. I’m not here to kill you. Well, I could if I wanted to, but you’re too cute to die just yet.” You say to him in a sultry voice that’s not very reassuring. That’s when he’s actually able to see what’s in front of him.

Small horns on your head, matching tail, black lingerie and tits practically pouring out. Glitter shimmering and scattering parts of their face and body. This is definitely him hallucinating from the lack of sleep right now but he asks anyway, “What…What are you?”

You laugh, “I’m your wet dreams. A sex demon, succubus. I fuck people at night.”

“Oh. Cool.” Damn, he doesn’t even get this good hallucinations when he’s high.

“Oh cool? I usually get more of a reaction than that. That’s a first.”

“Are you gonna fuck me then? You can fuck me if you want.” Beomgyu shrugs, he doesn’t really care if he’s hallucinating at this point, it’s better than staring off into darkness, trying to go to sleep, crazed out of his mind. At least whatever his imagination conjured up was hot. Although, he didn’t think he was THAT freaky he has to admit. He’s kinda turned on now though.

“Wow. You really are a different one. Are you really not fazed at all? I’m a demon.”

“Yeah I didn’t know I had some sort of demon kink either. This hallucination is wild.”

“Hallucination? This isn’t a hallucination. I am very real.”

“Whatever you say.”

“This is real! I am literally real bro.”

“You can’t really prove it.”

You sigh, frustrated. “Whatever. I don’t care, I just need to fuck someone.”

Not wasting anytime, since you need to fuck in order to survive and you haven’t fucked anyone in mere hours, you crawl on his bed, sitting in front of him and pulling out his already hard dick from his plaid pajama bottoms.

You pump him a couple times then bring your mouth to his dick, sticking your tongue out and dragging his tip back and forth against it. His precum dribbling onto your tongue as you continued swirling your tongue around his tip. And then you take take him in properly. He gasps as you fit pretty much all of him in your mouth without even gagging even though he’s quite big. Must be demon things or something.

You carry on bobbing your head up and down on his dick, holding his hips down as he cutely gripped your horns with his hands for dear life, moaning out prettily. The human’s already going to cum and you can sense it.

“Need to cum…” He whimpers and says after a while, his thighs clenching.

“Aw I haven’t even started yet and you already need to cum? What a cute human. Go on then.” You say, condescendingly.

So he does, whining out and gripping on your horns even tighter, hips lifting off the mattress and squirting into your mouth.

Next, you throw him like a rag doll to his desk you see and bend his pretty figure over it.

“Wanna be fucked?”

He nods fast.

Supposedly out of thin air since beomgyu doesn’t recall you having it on previously, you’re in a strap on, dildo already lubed as well.

You slowly push the dildo into his ass and he moans, slumping his body more onto the desk. You hold onto his waist, thrusting into him. You speed up and beomgyu moans and whines even louder each time you roughly pound into him.

You slap his little ass and it seems to elicit even more moans out of him.

“More…more pleas-ahh…” He begs.

You slap his ass repeatedly until his cute cheeks and skin are red and marked, fucking into him even more harshly and fast, skin slapping sounds so loud at this point.

You tug on his long hair, still spanking his red ass and all he can do is moan continuously, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the feeling of his hair pulled, being spanked and fucked dumb too much for him, he’s practically drooling.

He’s never been fucked this good ever. At the back of his mind, he’s beginning to question whether this was all really just a hallucination of his, everything feeling almost too real. But he’s feeling way too blissed out to give a damn at all. He can’t stop his dick from leaking from it all, he could cum any second again.

“Such a whore hmmn? Just a cumslut wanting to be fucked by anything? That you even wanna be fucked by a demon?” You pull on his hair, bringing his face up. But all beomgyu can do is pant and moan even louder.

“Say it. What are you?”

“Your cumslut-ahh…” He slurs, eyes heavy and glazed up.

You take his dick, pumping it fast at the same rhythm of pounding into him and he yelps, spurting heaps of his cum onto his desk. He slumps on there, catching his breath, shutting his eyes.

You push him back on the bed, holding his dainty wrists next to his head and he complies. You straddle his waist, lining up his cock to your cunt and sinking on it, beomgyu letting out a broken mewl, he’s too sensitive but he doesn’t want you to stop at all. You begin to ride him, rolling your hips on his.

You’re starting to like this particular human. You like how he’s eager and lets you do whatever you want to him. Others haven’t been as fun. Men and their egos. This one’s also very mesmerising to look at, his features making him look like he was sculpted by the gods, you hate to admit. His reactions and moans so pretty as well. You’re tempted to keep him all only to yourself forever.

You pick up your speed significantly, riding him to oblivion, sounds of it all sticky and he’s a moaning mess, seemingly in a trance from how out of it he looks. You let your devil tail trail, moving to his face to caress it as he groans to the side, cheeks blushed.

It then slowly trails down his body along his neck and to his nipples where it continuously prods, pinching and playing with them. Beomgyu endlessly moans, gasps, whimpering and whining, any kind of sounds coming out of his mouth as you bounce wildly over his hips, up and down.

“Please…cum…need” The words not coming out of his mouth as his brain goes fuzzy and eyes get clouded, his moans increasing in octaves then his breath hitches and he spills all his cum once more.

You still continue to bounce on him erratically though, milking him of every drop he has as he spasms underneath you, overstimulated, he’s seeing stars and his ears ring from the unparalleled bliss he’s feeling. Is he gonna pass out?

“I’ll see you again soon. Sweet dreams~”

~~🌀🌀🌀~~

Beomgyu wakes up.

That was one heck of a wet dream…or hallucination…whatever it was. He feels sore and his legs kinda ache, pants soiled. He feels like a pubescent teenager again ew.

The breeze comes in through his window. He gets up to close it, seeing a trail of a glitter from the window to his roof. Huh. That’s weird.

PLEASE actually reblog and comment if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and nice if you do tysm !<3🙏💕😊 It’s discouraging when fics have such little reblogs 👎🤨

[frayaziwriter]

I'm A Spider - Wait, What?

Chapter 1

You weren’t sure what was happening.

One minute, you’re dying and the next you’re-

Actually, where are you? It feels like you’re in some sort of container.. You squirmed a bit, and the thing pushing against you on all sides rocked back and forth, but you couldn’t seem to break through. 

Huffing, you tried again. You felt something give way and pushed once more. 

Crack. Crack. CRACK.

You topple out of whatever container you were stuck in and land harshly on the hard rock below. What the hell?? Where-? Turning around, you catch sight of - is that an egg? Did you just come out of an egg?

What was going on??

You frantically glance around, your eyes searching for something you weren’t quite sure of what but were confident you’d know when you found it. And all you saw were similar eggs to the one you just climbed out of.

The hell??

A shadow loomed over you and you glanced up. Flinching back, you skittered back into the remnants of the silver egg. Above you stood a giant yellow spider. 

‘Holy fucking shit!’ You thought. Your feet moved instinctually and you found yourself skittering across the rocky ground away from the monster spider. ‘What the hell is that?!’

[Answer; an Arch Knight. Arch Knights are a type of spider monster. This one belongs to the Golden Spider Clan.]

‘What - what - what - what?’ You screeched as a golden egg beside you started cracking. Skidding to a stop, you watched dumbfounded as the golden egg broke apart to reveal - another giant yellow spider.

Even though they were roughly the same size as you, they were still bigger than you and it was terrifying.

The spider crawled out of its egg and met your eyes. A moment passed and then-

A loud screech stabbed your nonexistent eardrums.

You swore your soul left your body a second time. ‘Okay - what the fuck?! Why the hell am I surrounded by giant spiders?!’

[Answer; you are in a spider-hatching cave.]

‘Yes, I got that thank you, but why?! And what the frick are you?! Why are you in my head?!’ You jumped when more golden eggs around you started cracking. Out came more bright yellow spiders, and suddenly you were being bombarded on all sides by cries from unreasonably big baby spiders.

[Answer; I am your {Unique Skill; Chiron}.]

‘Okay.. That explains nothing. ‘Skill’? What are those? And why am I here?!’ You flinched when the Arch Jurogumo behind you suddenly dropped a giant snake-like corpse. All the spiders around you rushed towards it. Your stomach rumbled. 

[Notice; you are running low on energy. Suggestion; eat. The Arch Jurogumo delivered sustenance.]

‘So, you want me to go to the giant spider that may or may not eat me in the hopes of getting food? Do you want me dead?!’

[Suggestion; if you do not want to die, eat the Black Serpent.]

‘...I’m hallucinating. This is a fever dream my brain made up as I’m dying.’

[Notice; you have already died. You have been reborn as a Small Lesser Taratect.]

You froze. ‘...I’m a what..?’

[Answer; you have been reborn as-]

The world went dark.

[...Notice; starting {Auto Pilot}. Hijacking body in three...two...one. {Auto Pilot} is now on.] <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

When you woke up next, you were eating something and yet you weren’t in control of your body. 

‘What the fuck?!’

[Notice; you had fainted due to low energy levels and high shock levels. {Auto Pilot} had been activated for safety.]

‘You can hijack my body whenever you want?!’ You thought as you gobbled up another bite of food. ‘That’s creepy!’

[Notice; you were going to die. Deactivate {Auto Pilot} now that you are safe from dying?]

‘Yes, please!’ And suddenly your body was yours once again. You peeled yourself away from the food and shook your new body. You were full now, so you backed up from the Arch Knight and - shit, that is a really big snake. You eyed it one last time before turning tail and making your way to what you assumed was a stream of clear water.

It was coming from some sort of crack in a wall and was pooling into a hole. You studied it for a moment. The hole was smooth at the edges, showing that it’s been smoothed down by the water for years upon years. Eying the cracks in the wall showed the same smooth edges as the pool.

The water itself looked clean, but... There was always that lingering doubt in the back of your head. ‘Is this even safe to drink?’

[Answer; yes.]

‘...Oh. Thanks?’ 

Reaching a leg down, you poked the water’s edge. Ripples spread out from your touch and you watched, transfixed, as the image of your new body came into focus.

‘So.. I really am a spider.. Heh, this is so weird.’

It was..a bit jarring to see a pure white spider with eight red eyes staring back at you instead of your old human face. Actually, scratch that. It was downright unsettling! There was still a part of your brain convinced this was a fever dream, but..the more time you spend in this cave, the more you realize that it wasn’t a fantasy your brain made up to soothe you in your dying moments. 

This was real. 

And you had no idea how to handle it.

You decided to deal with this later. So, you dipped your leg into the pool and cleaned the droplets off of the spiky fuzz on your pointy leg. ‘Now that I have a clear head.. How the hell can I eat regularly? Spiders don’t have the same kind of digestive system as humans! Does this mean spider monsters in this world aren’t actually spiders?’ Then, you paused. ‘I just realized.. I’m the only spider here that’s white.. And everyone else has a different body shape, too! I wonder why..’

[Answer; you are the first and only Jorogomo of your clan. Congratulations.]

‘Huh. Thanks.’ You paused and turned back to your reflection. ‘Hey, you mentioned earlier a ‘yellow clan’. What’s that about?’

[The Golden Spider Clan is the fourth spider monster race to appear. They belong to the monster species “Jorogomo”, commonly known as “Giant Spiders”. There are currently three older clans before the Golden Clan; Obsidian, Bronze, and Ruby.]

‘Does that mean...I’m clanless? I’m a different color than everyone here..’

[Answer; you are the first of your race. Congratulations.]

You huffed. ‘So, I’m currently clanless.’

[Answer; correct.]

Moving away from the pool of water, you face your siblings. (Were they actually your siblings? You knew regular spiders can have hundreds of children at once, but your new form isn’t exactly just like a spider..) ‘Nice to know. So, uh.. Why do they look different?’

[Answer; the Golden Clan are known as the warriors of the Jorogomo species. They have evolved for battle.]

‘I..see. This implies that Jorogomo races have separate abilities, correct?’ You clicked your chelicerae together. ‘Since the Golden Clan are the ‘warriors’?’

[Answer; correct. Would you like to learn the other races’ purpose?]

Humming, you shake yourself in a quasi-shrug. ‘Sure, why not? Should come in handy later.’

[The Obsidian Clan are known to the surface world as “Black Spiders”. They are the oldest clan of the Jorogomo species. Their purpose is espionage and planning. The Bronze Clan is the second oldest. They are the species’ builders and have carved out the underground colony the species lives in today. The Ruby Clan are the medics and farmers. They provide sustenance and medicine for the species. You already know the Golden Clan’s purpose, and your clan’s purpose is currently unknown.]

You would sigh if you could. ‘Because I’m the first.. Got it. Okay. Um, thanks! Now, do you have any suggestions on leaving this place?’

[Notice; it is not recommended for a Small Lesser Taratect to travel outside of a hatching cave. Especially one belonging to the Golden Clan.]

The chelicerae clicked again. You eyed the hulking form of the Arch Knight just...staring out over the sea of golden spiders. What was up with it? ‘How come?’

Just then, a spider hatchling near you shrieked. You turned around just in time to see it pouncing on another hatchling. The two spiderlings screeched and clawed at each other, and soon a few more spiders got caught in the fight. You shrank back as more and more hatchlings joined in, and then you found yourself skirting around individual fights to find safety.

[Answer; the Golden Clan is prone to fighting each other, especially in the first few stages of evolution. Golden Spiders live by the rule of, “Survival of the fittest.”]

‘Oh great!’ You think frantically while you skitter around pouncing spiderlings and flying claws. ‘I just had to be born in the most belligerent family ever!’ You swiftly found a rock column and climbed it. 

Turning back once you deemed yourself high enough, you watched as all hell broke loose down below. You shuddered. ‘Glad I escaped that..’

“Damn, it started already? Not even an hour into life and they’re already fighting! Nice!” You jumped at the sudden voice echoing through the large cavern and glanced up at the Arch Knight. That was the first spoken voice you’ve heard since you died! It took you a few moments, but you eventually managed to spot the speaker.

And once your eyes landed on her, you double-take. What the hell? What’s a girl doing here?!’

Standing right next to the Arch Jurogumo was a girl with beautiful golden hair. She was decked out in full armor and a weapon was held tightly in her hands. Her red eyes flitted across the sea of fighting baby spiders and a grin spread across her face. You estimated her physical age to be around mid-teens, but something told you that her looks were deceiving. (She looked so...unassuming. Like the kind of person who rarely got angry.)

[Notice; that is not a girl.]

‘Then..who is she? What is she?’

[Answer; that is the Golden Queen Spider.]

Holy shit, the queen was a human?! Wait.. queen? Like a queen bee?

[Notice; the Queen Spiders are the leaders and mothers of the clans. They are not human.]

Oh. But, she looked so..human-like. 

“Hey, hey,” The queen patted one of the left forelegs of the Arch Knight impatiently, “You said you had something to show me? What is it?”

The giant spider turned to look up at you before raising its first right foreleg to point at you. You felt your heart skip a beat. (Wait, do you even have a heart anymore? Does it even pump blood like human hearts?!) The queen followed its leg and her red eyes were suddenly on you.

‘Oh, shit-’

An even bigger grin stretched her face while her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. She raised her weapon (which you belatedly realized looked a lot like a spear) and slammed the butt of it down on the rocky ground. The sound echoed around the cavern, and all fighting ceased.

You clung harder to your little pillar. ‘I’m about to die, aren’t I?’

“HEY! WHITE SPIDER!” She screeched and pointed the tip of her weapon at you. (That wasn’t a spear.. What was it? An ax? No..) “GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!”

‘Oh, hell nah. I’m staying here, thank you very much.’

“DON’T MAKE ME COME UP THERE, YOU FUCKER!”

You cowered and skittered back up the pillar. ‘Why is she so scary?! She looks so nice! It should be illegal!’

[Answer; the Golden Clan are warriors who abide by-]

‘I know why she’s so aggressive, it’s just that her looks are completely throwing me off!’ You huddle in a nook high up the pillar. You could hear the queen seething down below and snuggled deeper within the hidey-hole.

“DON’T YOU-! OH, FUCK YOU! YOU BETTER COME DOWN HERE BEFORE I COUNT TO THREE, DAMMIT! ONE!”

Can she even get up here? You have a suspicion that she can in fact get up to you.

“TWO!”

..On second thought, maybe it’s not wise to piss off a warrior queen.. Especially when she has an army of children right below you..

“THREE! ALRIGHT, YOU ASKED FOR IT, BITCH!” And silence. And more silence. 

..Huh. Maybe she wasn’t coming-

“MOTHERFUCKER GET OUT HERE!” Oh shit, there she is! The queen grabbed ahold of your foreleg before dragging you out of your hidey-hole. You screeched and squirmed in her hold, trying desperately to wriggle your way out of her grip, but surprisingly she was strong. (You hated it.)

“Oh, come on,” She huffed as she glared down at you, holding you up with just one hand. If you could cry, you would be doing so right about now, “Even those weak fucks down there can put up a better fight than that. Where’s your fighting spirit?!”

You glanced down and shrieked even louder. She was floating?? Queen Spiders can do that??

[Notice; all Queen Spiders have the {Skill; Thread Manipulation}. They can use strings to manipulate objects, including people.]

‘S-So, this is just her being held up by strings?’ A glint caught your eye, and you peered closer to see a mass of thin strings just under the queen’s feet. ‘O-Oh. Fun. W-What’ll happen if she drops me? Will I go splat, or..?’

Silence. ‘C-Chiron? Hello?’

Still silence. ‘Dammit, Chiron! Don’t leave me here to die!’

“Alright, you tiny little maggot,” The queen glowered at you, “You’re coming with me. Don’t even think about running!”

‘I’d rather not go anywhere with you-!’

And then she carted you off to...somewhere. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

The caverns were quiet when she forced you out of the hatching cave. Not a single other spider was in sight - well, besides her guard spiders. They looked similar to the Arch Knight but smaller. Does that mean they were of a different rank or something?

[Answer; they are Knight Spiders. They are the highest evolution male spiders can achieve while female spiders can achieve the evolution rank Arch Knight. Due to this, they are primarily male spiders.]

Ah. Okay. You trill softly as you skitter along nervously by the Queen’s heels. ‘This is starting to sound more and more like an RPG mixed with regular nature. Back home, male spiders were normally smaller than females.’ At this, you paused. ‘Hey, does that mean that Arch Knight is technically my mother?’

[Answer; Arch Knights and Queen Spiders are the only ones capable of reproducing. Arch Knights are also in charge of child-rearing. They do this through a nest rotation.]

‘So, that’s a maybe. Got it.’

“Damn, you are one stubborn bitch, aren’t you?” The Yellow Queen huffed as she crossed her arms over her armored chest. You angrily clicked your chelicerae at her. ‘Don’t insult me when I can’t insult you back!’ She smirked, pausing to drop into a squat beside you. You flinched back as she examined you. “There you go! Now that’s the kind of fire befitting of the Golden Clan! You really did come from one of my offspring, huh?”

Then she popped back up and continued to stroll leisurely with her weapon laid across her shoulders. “Anyways. We should hurry it up; the caverns will be crawling with my kin soon, and we don’t wanna keep Blackie waiting! She’s a certain type of angry that scares even me!”

‘If this Blackie person scares this monster of a girl, then how strong is she?!’ You quivered. Suddenly, you really don’t want to continue following her..

“HEY!” You flinched at the fierce glare she sent over her shoulder. “HURRY IT UP, HALF-PINT! WE DON’T HAVE ALL DAY!” You skittered after her with a small shriek. Seemingly satisfied, she turned back around and hummed. “You know, despite how annoying you are, I kinda can’t wait to see what you’ll accomplish!”

You hissed, and she laughed at your obvious indignation. ‘How rude! I’m not annoying!’ The Queen turned around and walked backward, sending a feral grin at you. Your hissing cut off and you shrank back from her.

The spider-girl heaved a heavy sigh and grumbled. “Now I’m starting to wonder how you ever came from my clan. You’re feisty, but you’re so-so-so... timid! It’s mind-boggling.” 

Huffing, you stomped after her. ‘She’s so rude..’

“So, might as well get this out of the way now!” She exclaims, turning the corner. You glance down the other way. Nothing but more tunnels. How are you ever going to navigate this place?! “Welcome to the Colony. The land of the Jorogomos! There are currently four clans watching over it - ah, fuck!”

You jumped at her sudden shout and she turned to glare down at you. “You’ll end up making us fuck with the maps! We just got everything established, why’d you come now of all times?!”

(You had no idea what she was blabbering about, nor do you want to know. ‘She’s so scary..’)

“Anyways, four clans were watching over it. We’ll need to adjust some things, again. Dammit.” Why the hell was she glaring at you?! You didn’t do anything but hatch! “We Golden Spiders are in the far west. Our job is to keep that fucking Church in line.” Church? What church? Is it like the Catholic church? “The Obsidian Clan is found in the southwest, our closest neighbors. The Rubies are in the southeast. And then the Bronze fuckers are all the way to the northeast. Don’t know how the hell they haven’t been caught yet by the surface dwellers..”

You glanced around you as your little group trudged through the tunnels. ‘Surface dwellers, rock tunnels.. Are we seriously underground?! Ugh, I hate that! I wanna be outside!’

“But,” The Queen continued, “Keeping the Church out isn’t all we Golden Spiders do. The full picture is to protect the Colony from all threats. Obsidians are the info-gatherers and strategists, Bronze are the architectures and archivists, and Rubies are healers and farmers.” Do you have to sit through this? Chiron already explained all this to you.. “Your clan will be in charge of something else once it grows. Who knows what it’ll be; I for one thought we had all we needed. Apparently not.”

‘Right.. Each clan has a different ability..’ You look away from the Queen. ‘So, what’s mine?’

[Notice; I cannot give you that answer.]

If you could sigh, you would be doing so. ‘So this is something I need to find out for myself.. Yay.. Cue the stereotypical inspiring speech from an elder or something-’

“Hey, what’s taking so long?!” The Yellow Queen snapped at you. “Don’t make come over there! We’re already behind schedule!”

You squealed and ran after her. ‘So scary!’ <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

It was an hour or two after you had left the care of the Golden Clan, and boredom was numbing your mind. Your two escorts were eerily quiet and you still haven’t figured out how to use that Thought Communication ability.

‘Hey, Chiron? What’s the evolution tree look like for Jorogomos?’

[Answer; Small Lesser Taratect, Lesser Taratect, Medium Taratect, Greater Taratect, Knight Spider, then Arch Knight. The Small Lesser Taratect stage is the shortest one.]

You looked up at the Knights before you. ‘How do I evolve then?’

[Answer; monsters normally evolve when taking in enough magicules. Most monsters are unable to evolve without the process of Naming, but some species can do so by consuming other beings with enough magicules.]

‘I’m assuming the Jorogomos is one of these few?’

[Answer; correct.]

Nodding, you tune back into reality. ‘I see.’

The earth was vibrating a little.

A thought hit you and you almost gasped. ‘Hey Chiron, did the Gold Queen have bigger eyes than normal humans?’

[Answer; correct.]

‘Her mouth was also looking a bit weird.. Huh. This is a prime example of the uncanny valley, and yet I’m not disturbed by it. That’s so weird.. Is it because I became a spider?’

Rumbling cut into your thoughts and you perked up. ‘What’s that?’ Your little group of three marched onwards, toward whatever was making that rumbling noise. Soon, you started to see other Knight Spiders crawling along the tunnel walls. You stared up at them as you moved along.

And then you came upon a problem.

Turns out giant spiders are kinda bad at keeping track of tiny spiders like you. Maybe that’s why you weren’t allowed to leave the hatching cave before the Queen kidnapped you.

(..Spidernapped? Oh well.)

Nothing had prepared you for the absolute chaos that was the intersections in this underground society.

‘Can I get through this mob?’ You thought to yourself as you stared out at the moving crowds of spiders much, much bigger than yourself. You flinched each time a sharp leg stepped too close to your body. Spiders moved every which way; up, down, sideways, forwards, and backward. It was hard to keep up with all the legs scrambling everywhere. ‘Is this where I die a second time?’ 

Chiron was suspiciously quiet. You couldn’t help but shrink in on yourself. Even the one thing meant to help you doesn’t believe in you..that stings..

‘Oh well. If I die, I die. I already dealt with dying once, I can do it again!’

And with that, you scrambled after who you thought were your escorts. 

You jumped through gaps between the legs and scuttled under giant bodies as quickly as you could move. Turns out smaller spiders are actually really fucking fast. You ended up scaring yourself on more than one occasion with your speed.

‘God, I hate this. Where’re my escorts?!’

You thought you spotted them turning onto a side tunnel and scurried after them. ‘Wait for me!’ <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Turns out you didn’t see them go this way.

It was a couple of hours after what you have decided to deem the “Intersection Nightmare” when you stopped.

Your escorts were nowhere in sight, and you’re pretty sure you stopped seeing other spiders about an hour ago. Chiron was unhelpful in locating the giant Knights, and all the tunnels looked the same. So you supposed it was time to face the music. 

Falling to your stomach, you grunted. You’re completely and irrevocably lost. Maybe you should have known better than to think you’d be fine navigating a maze when you’ve never done so before.. Guess you’re still a little bit human, huh? That’s comforting to know.

‘Chiron, I’m lost, aren’t I?’

[Notice; the probability of being lost is 99%. Suggestion; find a safe place and wait it out.]

‘That’s a good idea, but...’

A grumbling sound rumbled from your stomach, and you whined. ‘How long will finding me take?! There were at least a hundred different tunnels back there and I can still see so many down here! And I’m hungry!’

[Notice; there are around a thousand individual tunnels in the Black Spider section of the Colony.]

You stick a claw in the air and glare up at the ceiling. ‘That just proves my point! They’ll take forever to find me! God, where even am I?’

[Answer; you are in an abandoned section of the Obsidian Spider section of the Colony.]

‘Oh?’ You perked up and rolled onto your back. ‘Why was it abandoned?’

[Answer; humans sealed the Storm Dragon, Veldora, 300 years ago in this section of the caves. The Obsidian Spiders abandoned it to avoid detection by the humans. It is now known as the Sealed Cave.]

‘Huh.’

An echoing screech from down the tunnels caught your attention, and you worriedly got to your feet. ‘Hey, uh, Chiron? Is there anything else that lives in the Sealed Cave?’

[Answer; yes. It is home to several different monsters.]

‘And what exactly are they?’

[Answer; not including Obsidian Spiders, there are Monstrous Centipedes, Giant Bats, Black Serpents, and Armorsauruses.]

You skittered back as the screeching got louder. ‘And..how big are they?’

[Answer; bigger than you.]

‘That’s so descriptive, Chiron, thanks.’ You huffed.

[Answer; you’re welcome.]

...If Chiron was an actual tangible being, you would have tried to strangle it. (It’s a really good thing that it isn’t, otherwise, you would have probably died in the near future.)

‘So, what’s coming my way? And can I beat it?’

[Answer; a horde of Giant Bats. There is a high probability of your death if you face them as you are now. Suggestion; run and hide.]

You took one moment to settle your nerves before turning down a random tunnel and booking it. ‘Run and hide. Right. Tiny legs, don’t fail me now!’ <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Growwwl.

‘God, I’m hungry..’ You whined as you sluggishly made your way down another tunnel. You had managed to outrun the Giant Bats and were now looking for a place to lie low for a bit. ‘Ugh, what I wouldn’t give for a nice, juicy steak right about now... Hey, Chiron? How long has it been since I got lost?’

[Answer; 7 hours.]

Your legs almost buckled underneath you, but you somehow managed to keep your footing. ‘..And how long has it been since I last ate?’

[Answer; 15 hours. Notice; energy levels are low. Suggestion; eat.]

And then your legs fell out from under you once more. You groaned. ‘But what am I supposed to eat if there’s nothing here?!’

[Notice; there is a nest of Monstrous Centipede hatchlings nearby. Suggestion; eat.]

You paused. ‘You want me to eat a giant bug? Something that was considered a pest and not to eat back home?’

Chiron was completely silent at this, and you let out a sigh before getting to your feet. ‘Fine, fine. I’ll go eat the baby monster bugs. How far-?’

[Would you like to use the {Skill; Spider’s Sense}?]

You tilted your head. ‘I have a skill? And it’s called Spider’s Sense?’

[Answer; correct. It provides a mental map of sorts of a certain radius in an area. Use the {Skill; Spider’s Sense}?]

Sighing, you shrugged. ‘If it’s gonna help me find that nest, then go for it.’

Suddenly, you could feel everything. You flinched ‘What the.. Is this-?’ 

Every movement, every crack or crevice in the walls around you, even the tiniest particles in the air were suddenly just - there! It was like you were that one character from Demon Slayer! It was so cool! (It was also a bit overwhelming..)

You snapped out of your awe at another painful grumble of your stomach and skittered down a tunnel and then up the wall. It led you to a spacious cavern, not unlike the ones you saw back in the Colony.

In the center of the cavern was a pit. Crawling closer, you could see a mass of long, wriggling centipedes crawling about. The closest one was about five meters long. 

‘Holy shit. And these are babies?! They’re bigger than me!’

[Notice; Monstrous Centipedes have the {Skill; Paralyzing Breath}. Suggestion; tread lightly.]

You shivered. ‘Duly noted. Thanks. Question; do they have more than one brain or heart?’

[Answer; no.]

Your forelegs, which were already sharp claws, glinted in the light when you readied them. ‘Good to know. Thanks!’

And then you drove a claw through the head of one centipede nearby. <><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

[Notice; evolution requirements met. You are now evolving into a Lesser Taratect. Congratulations. Suggestion; find a safe place.]

You jumped at the sudden notification, dropping the half-eaten bug on the rocky ground. ‘Wh-Wha?! Evolution?! Already?!’

It was only a day after you had become lost. You were still working on a little home nearby. Would it be safe enough-? You shook yourself and double-timed it. ‘It’ll have to be! Chiron, what’ll happen during evolution?!’

You spotted your new hidey-hole nearby.

[Answer; you will automatically fall into slumber. Notice; evolution will commence soon.]

‘Shit! That means I’ll be vulnerable! Hold on, I’m almost there!’

You ended up tripping and rolling into your hole. Slamming into the walls, you groaned.

[Notice; evolution will now commence.]

The world was engulfed in black as your stomach rolled with nausea. 

[Congratulations on your evolution to Lesser Taratect. Notice; you have gained new skills.]

notes: and this is the first chapter of this fic! hope you enjoyed! stay safe, and please remember that you're all AWESOME! XP