#i know he needs to get his car worked on in like an hour but I have no idea if I’m bringing him for that or his dad ?

[cute-sucker]

boxer!rafe holding his baby for the first time, and knowing him he made sure you had a private room and good food.

tell me why he would be so jittery though ??

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

boxer!rafe never had gotten as scared as he did when you had given birth.

waiting. rafe had been waiting for hours, holding a lucky charm that you had given him. the strands of the bracelet were frayed as he toyed with it, over and over again. the smell of the hospital was nauseating, and the feeling of being in a place that smelt like antibiotics and sickness made his skin crawl.

he had gotten the call that your baby was born in the middle of a fight. he was on top of a guy before someone stormed in the middle of the fight. that was uncommon, and the referee quickly had them separated before rafe realised it was your work friend, delany. she looked frantic, as she tried to mouth something.

the minute he realised what it was, he was pulling the ropes of the ring, and yelling at people to get out of the way. blood was splattered across his mouth, and his swelling knuckles stung with pain, as his sweaty t-shirt stuck to his chest.

your water broke.

he was there in minutes, swearing as he tried to close the car. he'd run into the hospital with a huff, demanding to know where you were. to be quite frank it may have been sweet to you - but it was downright scary to the nurses.

a bulky guy with blood splattered all over him, holding a silly pink baby bag. the first nurse let out an uncomfortable laugh before telling him to sit down. now, rafe would have started yelling, but there was this drumming in his heart that made him feel as if he was going to vomit.

he couldn't lose you, no, this was a critical part of all of it. he'd read those stupid books that you had gotten him about pregnancy, and how dangerous it was, and how many mothers had died and how to hold a baby, and, and-

(goddamn it, he was scared.)

"mr. cameron. would you like to come in?"

he looked up to see a nurse with a painful smile, he took a deep breath before nodding his head. rafe felt his hands shake, as he took a step inside the room.

there you were, pretty as always with that discharge night gown, and a relieved sweaty smile on your face. you look so calm, but his eyes zone on your hands. the baby isn't in your hands, and he found himself wondering where the baby was, but he watched you get up to touch him.

"hey, hey baby. calm down. you need to stay like that," he muses, coming closer to rub your shoulders. you close your eyes, a soft gasp coming out of your mouth.

rafe gives you a soft peck on the shoulder, "why didn't you call me?" he whispers in that gentle tone of his. you squirm, peeling open your eyes with those pleading doe eyes,.

"i didn't want to bother you. i knew-" you gasped out, "i knew you had that important match and shit, and i don't know i thought it was like a bad time-"

rafe cursed, "didn't i tell you it was the two of us together? i shoulda' been there for you. shoulda' have held your hand through this shit-" and he knew he's going on a tangent as your lip wobbled and he quickly licked his lips while shaking his head.

"nah, it doesn't matter now. aw, my sweet girl did this all by herself. let me," he muttered, rubbing tears off your cheeks, "where's the baby?" you sniffled, nuzzling your face in his hands, before pointing to the sinks where he saw a small tiny girl.

she's squirming in the nurse's hands, as she gets washed off. her tiny face is squished up as she lets out small squeals. he's struck by how small, how tiny, how he made that little thing with you.

"i-" he choked up unable to take his eyes off your baby, "thank you sweets. thank you." his head bowed down into your lap, the words like worship. he was a devout in your temple.

"here's the baby, ms. cameron."

you looked up at her, a little bundle of joy as the doctor put her in your lap. rafe felt like everything was complete, feeling his throat sting and his hands get clammy. god, what did he do to deserve this?

the baby was perfect, a tiny sweet thing and rafe's hands shook at his sides as you looked up at him with teary eyes.

"do you want to hold her?"

he swallowed hard, his voice that soft whisper you knew so well, "can i?"

you laughed something that was so sweet, ringing in his ear like a song he never wanted to end. yet, he couldn't help but look at you with approval and when he looked into your eyes all he saw was love. all he saw was the truth. finally, he reached for his baby girl, calloused hands cradling her.

he finally had found his family.

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 ✮⋆˙

synopsis: Your secretary Alhaitham and you have a tension full relationship, but he finally snaps after some miscommunication- or lack thereof!

tags: angst for like 1 second, explicit, cunnalingus, office setting, penetration, vulgar

wrd cnt: 1.9k

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

As the CEO of a thriving business, you were known for your sharp wit and unmatched determination. Alhaitham, your steadfast secretary, had always admired you from a distance, his heart secretly harboring a deep affection for you. The dynamic between you two was a blend of professionalism and underlying emotion, a sentiment you both tried your best to hide. It was more than him getting you coffee each morning, more than the soft shoulder massages he’d give you at the end of the day, more than the glances you’d exchange at each meeting.

One evening, you find yourself mindless scrolling down a dating site. Half of you bored, half a little curious. You leave your computer on and exit your office on a lunch break.

Unfortunately for you...your secretary came in to deliver your papers and set them on your desk, glancing at the screen.

You hear the door open to the break room, Alhaitham entering.

"Ms. Y/n, would you like me to schedule anything for you this evening? Or are you doing something personal..." He asks, catching you off guard as it's not usual for him to pry like this.

"No it's fine, I do have something later tonight. Thank you though!" You reply. Watching Alhaithams eyes dim.

The night of the blind date arrived, you got ready with a mix of excitement and apprehension. You chose a stunning outfit and hoped the evening would be a pleasant distraction from all your stressors at work. However, as the night progressed, you realized your heart wasn't in it.

You find yourself subconsciously comparing your date to Alhaitham, his genuine care, and the way he always seemed to know what you always needed. He's always there, fixing things up, making your life so easy and balanced. He knew how to make you happy.

During a lull in the conversation, your date asked if everything was okay. You hesitated before admitting that your mind was elsewhere.

Unbeknownst to you, Alhaitham had decided to swing by the same restaurant after his work hours. It was one of his favorites and one he made you familiar with too, hence why you even decided to pick it for your date.

He had been feeling restless all evening, and a strange intuition led him there. And of course he saw you and your date, talking and spending an evening dinner together.

His heart raced, and he couldn't ignore the surge of emotion. He sat at the other end of the room for about 10 minutes; before getting up and leaving.

You stood up, your body reacting without your minds permission. You followed after him for 20 minutes. Your poor date left in confusion, but it didn't matter.

After not much longer you find Alhaitham back at the office.

You park your car adjacent to his and enter the building, feeling your knees shake as you felt like you did something wrong. You two had always had a sort of...tension. Unspoken, undelved, and more complicated than you could explain.

You're going up the elevator, you know exactly where he could be. Your intuition speaks true.

"Alhaitham!...there you are." You say in a sigh, catching him in your office, organizing the filing cabinet as his light green eyes cut through the air separating you two in the room.

You walk closer to him, the night sky illuminated by the lights of the city, the moon shining through the big glass walls of your corner office.

"Is something the matter? There's no work left on your agenda for tomorrow....l checked." He remarks, pretending like nothing had happened.

"Meaning you have none either...why are you here Alhaitham? You just- left? You didn't even say Hi..." You mention.

His head quickly turns as if you’ve offended him.

"You...wanted me to come talk to you while you were on a date with your partner?"

"My partner? I just met that guy tonight...why would that be a problem anyways?" You say.

Alhaithams scoffs, visibly trying to articulate himself in the professional manner he’s tried so hard to maintain with you.

"It's just-it's not appropriate, is all, we have a professional relationship, right?"

"Well, I mean I consider you a friend, you don't think the same?"

Alhaitham slams the filing cabinet shut, truthfully startling you.

"Your friend? I am your secretary. I plan your meetings, I make your spreadsheets, I bring you coffee, I make sure you finish your agenda, and I take care of all your needs."

"Then why are you acting like this...?" You say in a lighthearted tone, laughing smally. "What do you not approve of my date or something?" You laugh as you get closer to him, a little too close to call friendly.

You let that comment slip out of your mouth, and quickly it's replaced with Alhaithams tongue.

Pinning you to the wall you once leaned on as you spoke, now moaning into his mouth.

He pulls away, his lips touching you as he speaks. "I take care of you. I should be the one you spend your evening with. Right here. In this officer." He mutters, before you pull him back into the kiss.

You can't help but melt right into him, his grip now released from wrists as your hands wrap around his head, his hands holding your waist and the side of your face.

"I didn't know you felt that way...should have said something sooner."

"Well I'm saying it now. You're my boss. Mine to take care of. Mine."

The kiss doesn't last long before things get heated, your secretary now kissing down your neck...unbuttoning your top as his lips trial down your body. He throws your clothes nicely on top the chair nearby, as he works his way down your waist, leaving a trial of evidence down your body.

His jade green eyes glisten in the moonlight, as he drags your panties down with his teeth.

"You can't know how long l've wanted to do this... y/n. How long l've admired you, watched you, I serve you completely." He says, as you feel his warm breathe around out cunt.

"Alhaitham... what are y-" You're cut off, feeling Alhaithams mouth split your lips open, his tongue grazing up your folds and circling your clit. You try to stay standing, holding yourself up with a hand on the cabinet, your other on top of his head. He looks up at you frequently, as he kneels below of you: licking your hole and pumping his fingers inside it. He sucks on every part of your cunt, tasting every inch like his salary depends on it.

The feeling of his hands running up your thighs, and his mouth sucking on your swollen clit, push you over the edge in no time. The vibrations of Alhaithams moans send themselves into your cunt, forcing you to cum; all, over, his face.

You writher and squirm while your knees shake.

Feeling his large tongue lick every drop of cum that spills out of you. Wiping the corners of his mouth with his fingers and sucking it off, savoring you.

He comes back up and kisses you, making you taste yourself.

You kiss him deeply, wanting his tongue. You're both pulling at each other, pushing your bodies closer as you moan into each others mouths against the wall.

"Alhaitham...give me more." You say softly into his ear, as your hands rub his erecting through this pants. Your hand reacted faster than your mind, you couldn't believe this is what you and your secretary were doing right now, but you don't want to stop now.

"Y/n...let me, this is about you." He says, quickly lifting you up with his hands under your thighs, turning you around and dropping you softy on the wooden desk behind you two. Your desk.

He slowly undressed you, leaving you bare infront of him. You lift up your leg and prop it on the corner of the desk, you make him watch as you spread open your lips with two fingers, playing with your pussy while he undressed. "This is what you wanted huh? What a naught secretary."

His face got even more red, before he kissed you again. "You're what I want." He quickly says, before his mouth is latched onto your hard nipple, as the other gets rubbed and pinched by his hand.

"Keep playing with yourself, it's so fucking hot." He snared, biting and sucking your chest, softy enough to make it painless but feel so fucking good.

As Alhaitham works on your tits, his cock springs out of his last piece of clothing.

Leaving so much saliva and hickies on and around your puffy nipples, you're eyes meet with his cock. A slightly dark tan, with the prettiest shaft and a throbbing red tip; just waiting to fuck you.

"Please boss...tell me you'll have me. Let me take care of you."

"Then do it, it's your job, right?" You smirk, before you softy hiss at how good his cock felt gliding all over your folds, he slapped his tip on your clit and rubbed them together.

"God I can't wait..." He says, he grabs onto your hips, as you sit on the desk.

You look down at his cock while it starts to disappear into your sopping wet pussy. Each inch making you gasp and squirm.

"Fuck...Alhaitham, it's not going to all fit..." You hear him grunt, before slamming it all into you. "It has to...it all has to fit y/n, I need you to feel it." He says, as your mouth can't keep in any of the sounds it's making.

His thrusts are slow and calculated, his thumb rubs your sore, engorged clit, while his cock is feeling your walls.

You can't help but fall back as his thrusts get more desperate, shaking you along with the table; which you now lay on, your tits bouncing up and down with it.

"Tell me y/n, will you remember me every time you sit here? Will you remember my cock fucking your tight little hole, like this?" He says harshly, needing you to need him.

You can't even reply, as the only thing coming out of your mouth is his name as you clench around his thick cock.

His body drops down towards you, his arms holding himself up which now lay on both sides of your face, feeling his hair on your forehead.

He's grunting and moaning right into your hear, turning you on even more while his hard cock doesn't stop rutting into you.

"Y/n...fuck, please forgive me...I can't stop boss."

You continue to gasp at the feeling of his cock even more close to you now, as his lips find your neck once again and create more areas for you to hide the next morning.

"Y-Y/n... i'm so fucking close...l don't think I can-"

Alhaithams words find no finish, but he does; you can feel warm ropes of thick cum coat your walls.

You've already came on his cock so many times, but you finish again from the feeling of his release inside you. His breathe is heavy on your neck, his knees buck a few times while his cock still stuffs you, cum oozing out onto the table and the floor all the while.

The night ends with him licking all the cum off you, gently and so lovingly. Dressing you, kissing you softly as he fixes up your desk. Telling you how he's always yours, always there, always the one who will take care of you. Only him.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[unitedhamilton]

Luck

Summary: a resolution with flowers on the counter.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: here is part two of Flowers! I would recommend reading that first. Enjoy lovelies 💜

Lewis’ head shot up off the couch pillow when he heard the lock on the front door click. 

He didn’t move when he saw you in the living room doorway. You broke the silence first. 

“I’m going to bed.”

“Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, Lewis.” 

Then he saw you turn and go up the stairs. 

Lewis dropped his head into his hands. He couldn’t believe what the last few hours had turned into. 

~~~~~

Lewis jogged up the steps, slightly out of breath as the Colorado freezing air kicked his ass. A crappy night's sleep and the change from Las Vegas weather had him struggling. 

He opened the door and immediately saw Roscoe camped out on the welcome mat. While bending down to pet the attention seeker, he caught sight of you in the kitchen. You had a mug held to your lips with your phone in the other hand. 

Lewis felt your eyes on him once he stood up. The light still hadn’t returned after a night of sleeping apart. It’s not like he expected anything different. 

“Morning,” you greeted as you set your mug on the counter. You tucked your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. You kept talking, voice flat as it has been and Lewis didn’t like that. “I’m going to the store so if you need anything you can text me.” 

Lewis walked to the cabinet and grabbed a glass making his way to the sink to get water. He didn’t respond. He didn’t know what to say. 

“Alright, I’m going. See you in a bit,” you said. 

“What store are you going to?” Lewis asked. 

“I haven’t decided yet. Sprouts perhaps. Maybe Trader Joe’s. Whatever I feel like when I get in the car.” 

You started to walk out of the kitchen when Lewis spoke. He really shouldn’t have. He was still pent up from his run and over everything he caused. 

“You’re not going to the store.” 

You froze and slowly turned towards him, eyebrows raised. “We need groceries, Lewis.” 

“No we don’t.” 

“Yes we do.” 

“Nope.” 

“Okay,” you put your hands on the counter, leaning towards Lewis, “the fruit and few vegetables I got yesterday barely feed you so we need groceries.” 

To this, Lewis replied, “I’ll go with you.” 

You barked out a laugh and shook your head. 

“Don’t laugh,” Lewis ground out. 

You both moved simultaneously, Lewis towards you and you towards the door. But, Lewis caught your wrist and pulled you towards him. 

“Don’t laugh at me baby.” 

“Lewis,” you whispered, in shock and maybe even surprise at your sudden closeness. 

He walked you so your back was against the counter. Lewis reached into your back pocket and pulled your phone out placing it next to your hip. 

“Why’d you throw the flowers away?” Lewis rumbled, you didn’t respond, he asked again, “why?” 

“They were dried out.”

“You did that on purpose.” 

“Lew—“ 

“Why?” 

“Just let it go Lewis.” 

He pressed you harder against the counter. “Tell me, honey. Why did the flowers end up in the trash?” 

“They were just flowers.” 

“They weren’t.” 

“You’re right,” you said quietly. “Once you stopped showing up they became just flowers.” 

He dropped his forehead to yours. 

Lewis didn’t mean to hurt you. Truly. You had the best vacation together, something he enjoyed every second of. No work, no responsibilities. Time together that was needed. He did have work he needed to handle when getting home but went about it the wrong way. 

He had to fix what he did. 

“Please let me go Lewis,” you whispered. 

“No.” 

“No? You can’t just say no.” 

He moved his hands from your hips to around your shoulders pulling you into a hug. 

He moved his lips to your ear and whispered, “I hurt you. I messed up and I hurt you.” 

Lewis felt your arms lightly wrap around his waist. He tightened his arms and pressed his temple to your hair. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, baby,” he murmured. 

“Fine Lewis.” 

“Let me in, baby. Let me fix my mistake. I shut you out and I shouldn’t have.” 

He pulled back and saw your hard exterior slowly crumbling. He didn’t let you go but gave you time to speak. 

“We got back from a fabulous time together, Lewis. I would have supported you through whatever you were going through. You know I have supported you and always will,” you said quietly. “What am I supposed to do and think when you aren’t talking to me?” 

Lewis placed a finger on your chin guiding your eyes together. 

“Give me your eyes honey.” Once you locked eyes he continued. “I didn’t want to burden you with everything I was working through. I can’t tell you exactly why I did what I did. I knew it was wrong. I can promise you I won’t do it again.” 

He saw you take a deep breath and sigh. He hoped you weren’t gearing up to keep arguing. 

“I know you didn’t do it on purpose, Lewis. But I’m not here to be thrown to the side when you’re stressed or whatever,” you flicked your hand off to the side. “I forgive you, but I’m not tolerating it again.” 

Lewis felt the smile creeping onto his face. He heard you laugh quietly. 

“Hug me baby. I’ve missed you.” 

At that, you wrap your arms around his shoulder at the same time he hugs your waist. He missed the feeling of you. All parts of you. 

You pulled back, Lewis not wanting to let you go, but loosening his hold, and seeing the smirk on your face. 

He knew what was coming and braced for the incoming sass. 

“Now, can we go buy groceries or are we going to stand here and starve?” 

Lewis bent his neck and dropped his forehead to yours. 

Then, his eyes locked with yours, he muttered, “Of course honey.” 

“Then get off me and let’s go!” 

“Fine, fine,” he replied, fighting a smile. 

You looked into his eyes for a while. 

Then you yelled, “let’s go Roscoe! You’re daddy stopped being an ass so we’re going as a family.” 

Lewis closed his eyes and laughed. Then he moved and touched his lips to yours. 

Then he let you go and watched as you went to get Roscoe’s collar and leash. With you out of sight, he went to the garbage can and pulled the flowers out. They’d deal with them together after shopping.

[holylulusworld]

Gun for hire (4)

Summary: You’re his next target. Nothing else. Right?

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader

Warnings: hiring a killer, Lloyd being Lloyd, sunshine reader, imlied character's death

Gun for hire (3)

Gun for hire masterlist

Lloyd puts on a show for Tommie. He slowly stalks toward your ex-boyfriend, a smirk on his lips and a knife in his left hand.

Lloyd ordered his men to strip Tommie and to restrain his wrists and ankles to the chair he was sitting on. They left him his plain cotton slip to cover his modesty.

“What do we have here?” Lloyd flashes Tommie a smile. Your ex-boyfriend fights the ropes holding him to the chair. He pants heavily and murmurs behind the makeshift gag Lloyd’s men made out of Tommie’s socks. “A piece of shit ready for the slaughter.”

Tommie sniffles behind the gag. He screams, desperate to tell Lloyd he’ll pay him any sum if only he shelters his life.

“Sunshine, I don’t wanna hear it,” Lloyd sits on a chair opposite Tommie. He crosses one leg over the other and sighs. “I told you about my rules. Now it’s too late. I’m not much into redemption.”

“Boss, we didn’t find money. All he had with him is over there,” the one reaching Tommie first says. He hands a phone and keys to Lloyd. “Nothing else.”

“Good job,” Lloyd nods in approval. “Enjoy your week off. Now leave me alone with my new friend. I think we need to have a serious conversation with Tommie boy…”

The panic in Tommie rises when the man capturing him silently leaves the room. He doesn’t know why he believed having the man there would keep Lloyd from killing him.

“Ple-ase,” he screams behind the gag the moment Lloyd gets back up from his seat. He shakes his head and struggles against the ropes.

“Relax,” Lloyd pats his cheek. “We have all the time in the world…”

Back and forth. You’re rocking back and forth. It’s all you can do. Somewhere in this large place Llyod Hansen, the man who came to end your life, is torturing your ex-boyfriend.

You should be happy, or gleeful. Tommie wanted to kill you and even hired two killers to get rid of you. For what – a house and a car. He wanted to take your life to make another woman happy.

Still, you don’t have it in you to wish pain or death on him. This isn’t you. All your life you tried to be a good person and help others. Even if Tommie tried to kill you, this is no reason for you to do the same to him.

Maybe, if the new woman in him didn’t influence him, he’d never do such a thing. Tommie wasn’t a bad person before he met her.

You shake your head. No. Tommie always was selfish in any way. You just didn’t want to see what was right in front of your eyes, believing you could change him for the better.

Sadly, he’s not a dog you can teach how to behave.

“What do I do?” You wring your hands. “What will he do to me after he’s done with Tommie?”

Sucking in a breath you hear the door to the bedroom Lloyd brought you to unlock. A petite woman in a maid outfit walks inside. She doesn’t look at you, nor does she say a word.

The woman places a tray with food and a bottle of water on the bed. She glances at you before turning to leave the room.

You’d love to talk to her but know better. Just like the men working for Lloyd, she wouldn’t answer your questions.

As much as you hate to admit it, you’re starving. It’s been hours since you ate your ordered food. Your stomach rumbles and you’ve got no other choice than to dig into the food.

“Ah, I see you’re enjoying the food,” Lloyd walks past the maid to enter the room. “Is it any good?” He questions while sitting next to you on the bed. “I took care of your little problem.”

Lloyd steals a green bean from your plate. He watches you still the fork, a smirk on his lips. “What now?” You feel an icy shiver run through your body. He kept his promise and killed Tommie. Not for you, of course. Lloyd killed the man not paying him for his service.

“Well,” he snatches another bean from your plate, “you paid me well to get rid of your ex-boyfriend.” Lloyd grins when you turn your head to look at him. “I got more money than he’d ever pay me.”

“What? I—no!” You shake your head. “I didn’t pay you a single buck!”

“Oh, yes,” he laughs when you look at him like a confused puppy. “Did you forget that you sold your house to pay me? I just received the money.”

You gape at Lloyd. This can’t be real. You’re sure you did not sell your house to pay him for murdering your ex-boyfriend.

“See,” he gets his phone out of his pocket to show you a transaction. “I received the transaction this morning. You’re officially my best customer this month.”

“What?” You feel like you are losing your sense of reality. Lloyd must be lying. If not, you lost your mind over the last few days.

He sighs exasperated. “Cupcake. Do you remember my rules?” Lloyd angrily asks. You nod hastily. “I do not kill people for free. You paid me to keep you safe and kill your ex-boyfriend. Which means, you gotta stay here for the time being until I find out if Tommie boy hired a more talentless hitman.”

Lloyd gets up from the bed. He looks you up and down before leaving the room. The lock clicks and you sit there in uncomfortable silence.

You didn’t pay him, but Lloyd made it look like you did. Why? Why would he do such a thing?

“Why?”

Lloyd watches you pace the bedroom. Back and forth. Back and forth until your feet are hurting. You clutch your hands to your chest, and sigh.

“Boss, what about the woman? Do we get rid of her too?”

“She paid me well to protect her,” Lloyd dips his head to look at the man working for him. The man nods and swallows the words burning on his tongue. If he says something wrong, he’ll end up dead too. “She will stay here for the time being. That woman is officially under my protection.”

“Got it, boss. I’ll tell the others.”

“Do that,” Lloyd turns his attention back toward the monitors on the wall. He leans back to watch you sit on the bed. He waits until he’s alone to pump up the volume. “What do I do with you now, cupcake…”

Tags in reblog.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Tippington Affair

Summary: Y/N and Dean are unaware of just how similar they are.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: None really. Angst. Pining. Some making out. Kissing. Fluff.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 5,314

A/N: In February I got a request from a lovely anon asking this:

hiii :)) idk of you're taking requests rn, but i was wondering if you could write something with dean x fem!reader where dean really loves her for a while but hasn't told her and plan on never telling cause he just thinks he's bad for her or that he's "poison", but he sees her getting close to some guy they're working with and starts to get like suuuper jealous, enough to make him forget he's not supposed to be with her. I absolutely love your writing and your stories, I'm pretty sure I've read them all haha :)) thanks!

It took me a while to get to this, but I hope you think it was worth it! Thank you so much for this request, Nonnie. And I hope everyone else who reads it enjoys it too. ❤️

Master List || Dean Winchester One Shots || Tag Lists

Dean shouldered his big green duffle bag, slamming Baby’s trunk and frowning at his phone.

-

-

Dean scowled at the name “Tippington”. Scott Tippington.

What the fuck kinda name is Tippington? Dean thought angrily. Sounds like he should be taking cigars and brandy in the library instead of out hunting with a flannel and a shotgun. 

Sam joined him back at the car, having just checked them in and got their room key from the front desk. He tossed it to Dean. 

“203.” He told him and they bounded up the stairs two at a time to the second floor of the Sleep Eazzz Motel. 

When they’d spotted the motel on the side of the highway and Dean mentioned stopping, Sam told him the name of the motel was too close to “Sleazzz Motel” and they should keep driving. But Dean had already been driving for almost twenty-four hours straight. Sam offered to take over but Dean said he needed to stretch out on a real bed. 

“Plus,” he’d pointed out, “you have a habit of really riding the brakes.”

So, they’d stopped for the night.

As they walked through the orange motel room door, they both gave a relieved sigh. The outside of the motel was hideous, but the room seemed decent. It actually smelled and looked clean, there was a decently modern TV, one from the 21st century anyway, and to Dean’s delight, both beds had magic fingers.

They each picked a bed and dropped their bags. Sam sat on the end of his bed and ran a hand down his face before turning to his brother.

“Hey, did you manage to get a hold of Y/N? Is she coming?”

Dean dug into his bag and started taking weapons out to clean them, doing his best to seem nonchalant. “N’ah, she’s werewolf hunting down in North Carolina.”

Sam nodded. “Ah. Too bad, we could use her.”

Dean shrugged. “We got this, it’ll be fine.”

Sam grunted his response and started unlacing his boots. Dean sat back on the bed and laid out a cloth to set the weapons on before starting in on his 1911. 

After a minute Sam kicked off his boots and pushed himself backwards so he was leaning against the pillows on the bed as he picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. Dean was quiet until Sam settled on an old episode of The Simpsons and tossed the remote aside.

“Hey, do you know a guy named Scott Tippington? ‘Nother hunter?”

Sam scrunched his forehead thinking. “Out of Utah? Tall guy, blonde?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t know him, that’s why I was asking you. What’s he like?”

Sam sat forward a bit to pull off his overly warm flannel. “Well, if it’s the guy I’m thinking of, I only worked with him once, a few years ago.” He darted a look towards Dean. “When you and I were, uh, apart. After Amy.”

It was awkward for a moment before Sam looked back at the TV and continued on. “Anyway, I don’t remember a ton about him, but we ended up on the same Rugaru case and we hunted it together. He was good, I think. If he was bad or stupid, I’d probably remember him more.” He looked at Dean again. “Why do you ask?”

Dean shrugged. “Oh, just Y/N said she’s working with him again. This is like the third or fourth case in a row they’ve worked together, so I was just curious.”

Sam smiled knowingly. “Ah! I get it now.”

Dean scowled at his little brother and then went back to aggressively cleaning the barrel of his pistol. “There’s nothing to ‘get’.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow.“You’re worried Y/N’s getting a bit too close with this guy.”

Dean scoffed. “Whatever. She’s teamed up with him a couple times, and I just wanna make sure he’s not a tool that’s gonna get her killed.”

“Uh huh.” Sam said in tones of disbelief.

Dean shook his head. “Shut up.”

He didn’t bother arguing the point with Sam any further because he knew Sam would see through him - had been seeing through him for the last four years, since the day they’d first had a run in with the former FBI agent.

***

Dean had been immediately blown away by her. She was a power and a force all unto her own, and she was immediately suspicious of them. 

They were working the case of a shifter who was shifting into different parents, and snatching that parent’s kid. They were pretty sure the bastard was selling the kids to other monsters for obviously horrific reasons.

Y/N was only aware of the most recent kid, snatched ten hours earlier. She was on the case, knowing that a twenty-four hour clock was ticking. There were witnesses and CCTV camera footage of the boy’s father picking him up from school, so of course he was their prime suspect. 

But when Sam and Dean came into the local FBI field office and said they’d been instructed to interrogate that suspect, Y/N had just frowned at them and asked to see their badges again. She’d studied them for a worryingly long time before handing them back.

She squinted at them. “You look kind of familiar to me. Have we worked together?”

Both brothers assured her they’d never met and demanded again to speak with the suspect in custody. She’d reluctantly agreed and taken them into the room. But they got little new information out of the incredibly distraught father.

As they were leaving, Y/N caught Dean’s arm and he’d been amazed with how much that little touch had affected him and how badly it made him want to pull her closer, cover her delectable mouth with his and see what she tasted like.

But she’d merely asked him one more time if they’d ever worked together. When Dean denied it again, she shook her head and let him go.

But early the next morning, she’d been outside their motel room, pounding on the door. Dean’s bed was the closest and he stumbled out of it, half asleep, to open the door. He stood there in his black boxers and gray t-shirt and she seemed momentarily surprised, looking him up and down before she pushed past him into the room. 

“Hey!” He protested. He looked over at Sam’s bed, but it was already empty and made up. Probably out running. Dean thought with an internal eye roll as he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on as Y/N spun around to confront him.

“I know why I know you.” When Dean said nothing, she planted her hands on her hips. 

“You're Dean Winchester. And that guy with you,” she pointed at Sam's bed, “is your brother Sam.” When Dean still stayed silent she moved her hands from her hips and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Also, you’re dead.”

She began pacing back and forth in front of him. “After a horrifying and bloody murder spree across several states, you were both killed - ‘decapitated’ the report said. When I called the sheriff who wrote the report, I found out that both he and his daughter, who just happened to be the coroner who processed the bodies, were also missing and presumed dead.”

She turned back to look directly at Dean and in spite of the seriousness of the situation, he found himself once again caught up in how beautiful she was, in the way her eyes flashed as she studied him. And once again he had the impulse to wrench her forward and crush her mouth under his…probably a bad idea, he thought.

Y/N eyeballed him, but he couldn't decipher her expression. Her voice was stern when she spoke. “I should be here to arrest the murderers who faked their own death.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

She stared at him for a minute before she shook her head. “No, because you and your brother aren’t the only weird thing going on with this case. After you left yesterday I dug deeper into the case and stumbled across six other cases, from local municipalities, of missing kids. The cases had been reported to the FBI for consultation, but they all seemed cut and dry, so the locals took care of it themselves.”

She inhaled deeply, frowning at Dean. “The disappearances of all six kids were reported as parental abductions. In every case, there was footage of the parent picking the kid up from school, but every accused parent vehemently denied taking them. Four out of the six suspects arrested, also had ex spouses who refused to believe their former partner had taken the child because they were in very friendly and functional co-parenting situations. Oh, and all six kids were never found, and no body was ever recovered.”

She shook her head. “Now there is a seventh kid missing and it’s exactly the same situation. If you add to that, two fake FBI agents who are actually mass murderers back from the dead, well I gotta think there’s something more going on here that I don’t understand.”

Sam walked through the door just then,  freezing when he saw Y/N standing in the middle of the motel room. 

“Uh…”

Dean waved him in. “Come on in, Sammy. Time to give the talk.”

So, they’d spilled the beans about who they were and the life they lived. She didn’t believe easily, but eventually she admitted that there had been a few other cases in her ten year career that had felt off, that left her with a bad taste in her mouth about what was really going on.

She’d insisted on helping them find the seven year old boy that was missing, and with her help they’d found the shifter and put a silver bullet in his heart in time to save the kid and return him to his real parents.

After that Y/N tried to go back to being an FBI Agent, but eventually she came to see the boys. 

“I can’t go back to pretending that everything is normal. Everytime we’re going after a suspect, I’m wondering whether they’re actually a monster in disguise, or if they’ve got a monster framing them.” She’d shrugged. “So, teach me to be a hunter. I feel like there’s gonna be a lot of career overlap, and hey, the FBI doesn’t pay great either.”

So they’d helped her out, but she was a very quick study and it hadn’t taken long for her to become a great hunter. They often worked cases together.

Or they had until a few months ago when Y/N had met up with Scott Tippington and started working all her cases with him.

Tippington. Dean thought again, dismissively. Definitely a douche.

***

***

“Cheers!” Y/N reached across the table and clinked glasses with Sam and then turned slightly to touch glasses with Dean who was sitting beside her. 

He gave her a lopsided grin. “Cheers.” He said with a nod. 

They all took a big gulp of beer and then clunked their heavy glass mugs back down on the table. 

“So, how have you guys been?” Y/N asked, wiping her hand over mouth to ensure no beer clung to her upper lip. 

Dean grunted non-committedly and she looked to Sam for further explanation.

Sam chuckled. “That’s Dean’s way of saying taking down that nest of vamps we went after, ended up being a bit tougher than we thought it would be. Three of the vamps were friggin’ huge and they didn’t go down easy.”

“Shit!” Y/N said, shaking her head and looking Sam up and down. “They were bigger than you?” 

Dean answered. “Yeah, believe it or not. One of them picked Sam up like he was gonna bench press him and then chucked him clear across the room. Thankfully, I was too quick and agile for him to catch me.”

Sam snorted. “Yes, you were just like a ninja while the one with the beard had you in a headlock choking you out.”

Dean waved him away. “Got out of it didn’t I?”

Y/N chuckled and took another sip of her beer. Sam shifted his gaze from his brother to her and gave her one of his dimpled smiles. “How about you? How’d your last hunt go? Wolves right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, and then a wraith on the way back. They were both pretty quick and clean. We took them out without a problem.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Right you were working with uh…what was his name again?” He asked, as though the name hadn’t been plaguing his nightmares.

“Scott Tippington.”

Dean picked up his cardboard coaster and began shredding it. “Right. You’ve worked with him quite a bit lately. I guess he must be good.”

Y/N shrugged a shoulder, smiling fondly at the memory of her most recent partner. “Yeah, he is. I like working with him a lot. He makes me laugh.”

Dean nodded, a little rapidly, she thought. “Oh that’s good. Important that your partner can tickle your funny bone just before a demon smashes your head into a wall.”

Y/N frowned. “He’s a good hunter too.”

“Huh.” Dean grunted. “That’s good.” He nodded. “I mean it’s obviously more important that he’s a good hunter so, you know, he's not gonna get you killed. But it’s great that you get along so well too. Important.” He finished with a mumble.

Y/N looked at him askance. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The table was quiet for a minute until the waitress came by to drop off more pretzels and peanuts for the table.

Dean turned a bright smile her way and Y/N felt her stomach lurch as he moved into flirtation mode. She’d seen it many times before, over the last four years, and it never got easier. It was, in fact, the main reason she’d started hunting with Scott. She’d needed distance from Dean. She couldn’t keep watching him walk out the door with yet another new woman under his arm.

But once again, his charm was in full effect as he addressed their waitress. “Thanks sweetheart.” The waitress had long, dark hair, big boobs and a short skirt. She also had a very sweet smile that she flashed his way, making Y/N wanna scream or scratch her eyes out - maybe both.

The waitress popped a hip out as she stood beside their table. “No trouble, honey. Can I get you anything else? At all?” She asked, her warm brown eyes entirely focused on Dean.

Y/N thought the woman was being a little obvious and forward the way she rested her popped hip against their table and leaned forward so that Dean had a fabulous view of the cleavage revealed by her low cut, scoop neck t-shirt.

Dean didn’t even try to hide his ogling and Y/N gritted her teeth as he leaned his elbows on the table, looking up at the waitress. His green eyes glittered brightly with obviously dirty thoughts and promises. “Well, I wouldn’t mind knowing what time you get off.”

The waitress blushed prettily and bit her lip. “Um, I’m off at midnight.”

Dean gave an exaggerated expression of surprise. “Well, how ‘bout that, midnight is just when I was planning to head home. Maybe we could meet up.”

Y/N was clenching her teeth so hard she thought she might crack one as the waitress giggled and nodded. “Okay, maybe you can give me a ride home.”

Dean stared straight into the woman’s eyes and slowly licked his lips before speaking. “Oh, I can definitely give you a ride, sweetheart.”

“Jesus.” Y/N heard Sam mumble under his breath, but she didn’t spare him a glance. 

She was too intent on staring at the waitress who was practically salivating as she stared at Dean, before she giggled again and bounced away from their table. 

Dean watched her go with his head slightly tilted. 

When he swung his gaze back to her and Sam, he seemed slightly angry and she figured he expected them to bug him about his carousing while they were all just sitting at the table.

She wanted to make sure he knew she didn’t care, so she laughed. “Jesus Dean, why didn’t you just mount her right here on the fucking table.”

Oops, she thought, that sounded a bit more angry than teasing. 

Dean shrugged a shoulder. “What? I wanted a date, I got a date.”

Y/N snorted. “A date? A date implies dinner and a movie, I doubt very much you’ll bother with either. You don’t even know the woman’s name.”

Dean scowled at her. “It’s Cindy.” Y/N raised an eyebrow and he shrugged again. “She had a name tag, and I notice things.”

Y/N snorted. “Yeah, especially when they're pinned to a pair of enormous tits.”

Dean wore half a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He drained his beer in one swallow and stood up. “I’m gonna go ask Cindy for another one.”

He sauntered away and Y/N took her hands off the table and shoved them into her lap so Sam couldn’t see her shaking.

She raised her eyes to his and plastered on what she hoped looked like a real smile. “So, Sam, how is YOUR love life going?”

Sam chuckled. “Non-existent and boring.” He took a sip of beer. “How about you?”

“Non-existent and boring.” Y/N said with a small nod.

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

“So…” Sam cocked his head. “You don’t have anything going on with this uh…Tippington guy you’ve been working with?”

“What? Ew! No.”

Sam frowned in apparent confusion. “Ew? Why ew?”

Y/N shook her head, her face still scrunched. “Because he’s the same age as my Dad!”

Surprise registered on Sam's face followed quickly by confusion. “Scott Tippington? Out of Utah?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, he's from Virginia, or…no West Virginia.”

“Oh.”

Y/N shook her head and then grinned at the idea of dating the grumpy old hunter. “I mean he's pretty good-looking for a 68 year old hunter. But…I think we're just gonna be friends.”

Sam smiled, chagrined. “That's probably a good plan.”

Dean sauntered back towards them and Y/N felt her stomach muscles tighten at his long-limbed, bow legged stride. Dean moved in a way that always made her take notice. When he was hunting, his movements were crisp and efficient, no wasted motions. He was precise and deadly. 

When he wasn’t hunting though, when he was relaxed, he moved his body through the world with a kind of ease, loose and almost carefree. He reclined in chairs, leaned in doorways, and put his feet up on tables. He stretched and relaxed his tall frame into comfortable positions that always made Y/N wanna climb up into his lap and cuddle.

He plunked himself back down beside her with a new mug of beer. Y/N tried to make her grimace look like a grin.

“So, you got your evening all planned out?”

Dean nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Yeah, we’re outta here in about fifteen minutes.” He looked at Sam and winked. “Don’t wait up.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t planning to.”

Y/N let some of her frustration show. “So, you’re really gonna ditch us after like a half hour. I thought we were supposed to be catching up.”

Dean’s jaw ticked as she looked at his profile. “I figured we were all done catching up. Your wolf hunt went great cause you had your amazing new partner and our vamp hunt went kinda shitty cause we could have used an extra pair of hands.”

Y/N scowled at him. “Seriously? Are you pissed at me for hunting with Scott? I wasn’t aware we’d signed exclusive contracts.”

Dean chuckled darkly. “N’ah, we’re definitely not exclusive. You are under no obligation to us whatsoever. So, you’re good.”

“You’re unbelievable.” Y/N said and Dean turned to look at her. “You’re seriously running off to spend the night with wonder tits over there because you’re pouting?”

“Wow.” Dean said with a head shake. “Whatever happened to the sisterhood? That was pretty rude.”

Y/N scowled at him. “You know, you’re right. I should do my part for the sisterhood by going over to that nice girl and warning her to find another ‘ride’.” She said, using air quotes. “Cause God knows she’s gonna come to regret it when she turns into just another notch on your belt.”

There was no hiding her annoyance now and she didn’t bother.

Dean dropped his jovial pretext too and turned to face her better. “Why the hell are you being so preachy and judgemental? Since when do you give a shit who I fuck?”

“Dean-” Sam started to speak but Y/N spoke over him.

“I don’t.” she denied vehemently. “But I mean, Jesus. Do you ever think with anything other than the dick in your pants? I mean seriously, it’s gross.”

“Y/N-” Sam tried again but Dean leapt to his feet, banging the table and sloshing their beer across the wooden top.

“For fuck’s sake.” Sam mumbled as he jumped up too, trying to avoid the beer streaming towards him.

Dean’s face was furious as he stared down at her. “Well I don’t wanna gross you out, so I guess I’ll just go sit at the bar till I’m ready to go.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, guilt plagued her when she saw the hurt in Dean’s mossy green eyes as she slid out of the bench seat to stand just in front of him.

“Don’t bother. I’m gonna take off, got a lot of driving between here and my next hunt.” She stared up at Dean, hoping against hope that he might tell her that they should both stay.

But he just smiled a tight smile. “Yeah, say hi to Tippington for us.”

Y/N gave a terse nod. “Yeah, whatever.” She glanced at Sam. “Take care, Sam. Hope to see you soon.”

She didn’t bother addressing Dean again, just turning away and walking out the door, wishing she could leave behind her feelings for him just as easily.

***

Dean grabbed a rag from the bar and wiped up the spilled beer before sliding back into the seat across from his brother who was frowning at him.

“Dean, what the fuck is the matter with you?”

Dean glared back. “What’s wrong with me? Nothing’s wrong with me. Why don’t you chase Y/N down and ask what the fuck’s gotten into her lately. She goes months without seeing me, us, I mean, and then storms away just because I had the audacity to make a date for later.”

Sam let out a frustrated growl. “You really think she was just mad you made a date, which, by the way, is a very loose translation for what actually happened with the waitress.”

“No, she was obviously mad and took off because she thinks I’m gross, cause she disapproves of my lifestyle, I guess.” He said, trying not to let the hurt bubble up. 

What the fuck do I care what she thinks of my choices? He thought angrily.

Sam opened his mouth to say something more, but Cindy showed up at the end of their table.

“My boss let me off a bit early.” She smiled bashfully and nodded towards the door, clearly anxious to be underway. “Wanna go?”

Dean smiled at her and stood up, grabbing her hand. “Hell yeah, let’s go.”

***

***

There was a pounding on Y/N’s motel door that would have woken her up if she’d actually been asleep. But she’d just been restlessly tossing and turning, feeling guilty about Dean, but hurt over Dean too. The fact that he hadn’t texted back, clearly meant he was still on his “date”.

The long and short of it was she was in a rotten mood and the pounding on her door at two in the morning wasn’t helping. 

Stupid drunken idiots next door.

When they wouldn’t take the hint and go away, Y/N threw off the covers and stomped to the door, throwing it open, ready to tell them to fuck off. But it wasn’t her neighbors on the other side.

“Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, her surprise turning into a frown. “What the hell are you doing here? Where’s your date?”

“I got your text.” Dean answered, brusquely.

He was staring at her, raking his eyes up and down her form standing in the doorway. Two spots of pink rose in Y/N’s cheeks as she realized she was just wearing a ratty old t-shirt and panties. She tugged self-consciously at the front hem of the shirt trying to ensure she was covered. 

She opened her mouth to ask again what Dean was doing, but before she could get a word out, he’d pushed her backwards into the room with his hands at her waist. In one quick motion he kicked the door shut and spun her so he could slam her up against the wood-paneled wall.

She gasped, her eyes wide and her heart slamming against her ribs. Before she could get a word out, he was crashing his lips onto hers and sweeping his tongue into her mouth. He tasted like smooth whiskey and she was quickly drunk on him, her head reeling as his hands moved from her waist to grasp her cheeks and hold her steady.

His mouth ravaged her, pulling shocked and hungry whimpers from her throat. When he finally pulled his mouth away from hers, he simply trailed his silken lips down the length of her throat, while his rough hands strayed down her body to slip under the hem of her shirt and up her ribcage. His hands rested there, and he lifted his thumbs to brush tantalizingly against her rock hard nipples.

Y/N threw her head back, cracking it against the cheap wood paneling and knocking some sense into herself along with the slight pain. 

She shook her head and pushed against his forearms. “Dean! What the hell? What are you doing?”

He pulled his head up, licking his lips and panting heavily. His hands stilled, but they stayed warm against her ribs.

She tried to make sense of what was going on, but his tantalizing lips were still hovering above her and it was everything she could do to not simply ignore her sense of reason and latch on to them again. 

Instead she shook her head again and frowned. “Dean, what's going on? You were supposed to be on a date, remember?” She tried not to let too much vitriol into her voice, but felt like she’d failed. 

Dean’s jaw ticked. “I just drove her straight home.” He paused, still breathing rough. “I don’t want her.” His gaze dropped to her mouth again and he bit his bottom lip. “All I want is you.”

Y/N shook her head, willing herself to wake up and live with the disappointment of this all being a dream. “Dean,” she whispered, “what are you saying? Where is this coming from?”

Dean’s gaze turned sad before he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to hers. “Don’t date him.”

Y/N frowned in confusion. “Don’t date who?”

Dean shoved away from her and ran a hand through his hair as he began pacing. “I know I have no right to ask you, I have no right to you, no right to love you, I know I’m poison, I know I’m an asshole for trying to make you connected to me, I know I’ll never deserve you.”

He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. “I know Tippington is probably a much better option, but…” He strode three paces back to her and cupped her cheeks in his big hands. “But he can’t possibly love you more, want you more. I know that too.”

All Y/N could do was blink at him and then suddenly his words penetrated her brain and tears flooded her eyes and she begged her mind to just let her keep sleeping, keep living in the dream. 

Dean’s face crumpled and he looked stricken. He pulled her against his chest and she buried her face there. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m sorry. It doesn't matter. Ignore me. It’s okay, I’ll be okay. You don’t have to say anything back. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Please don’t cry.”

His voice sounded choked and he rubbed a hand soothingly up and down her back. “I shouldn’t have come here like this. I’m an asshole, just ignore me, okay?” He repeated, and took a shuddery breath. “Date who you want, of course. Don’t cry.” 

Y/N pulled back from the softness of his flannel beneath her cheek, raising an eyebrow as she shook her head. “And what if I wanna date you? Does that declaration of love come with dinner and a movie?”

It was Dean’s turn to stare blankly at her. She reached up and dashed away her tears before wrapping her hands around the back of his head and pulling his lips back to hers. Y/N kissed him for a solid thirty seconds before his brain seemed to kick into gear and understand what she was saying. When he did though, he growled and deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms tightly around her ribs and pressing her close. She reveled in the long, hard feel of him pressed up against her, the way she’d dreamed of him for so many years.

When they were both desperate for oxygen they finally broke the kiss and panted harshly as they looked into each other’s eyes, both of them thrilled when they read the real, solid proof of love in the other’s gaze.

Dean’s beautiful face split into an equally beautiful smile. “So, are you really picking me?”

Y/N smiled back warmly and let her hands rest against his scruffy cheeks. “Dean, I love you, and I choose you completely, over everyone, anyone. But…” She grinned at him mischievously. “Scott Tippington is sixty-eight years old and has never been anything more than a good hunting partner. Just so we’re clear.”

Dean frowned. “But Sam said -” He cut himself short before closing his eyes and shaking his head. “So, I was jealous of nothing.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Were you jealous? Really? Like me with the waitress…Cindy.” She gave a little eye roll.

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, we’re a couple of dumbasses.” 

Y/N punched him lightly in the bicep. “Speak for yourself. I wasn’t a dumbass, I was a tragic pining heroine. After all, you gave me no hints you felt this way; how could I have possibly known?”

“Are you serious?” Dean asked incredulously. “I did everything but climb into your lap and beg.”

Y/N laughed and then felt her body warm as she laid her hands on his broad chest. “I’d be onboard for that.”

Dean’s eyes darkened as he lowered his head and captured her lips in a long, languid, sensual kiss, just dipping his tongue in to taste her and sipping at her lips.

When he pulled out of the kiss to nuzzle the shell of her ear and then suck her earlobe between his plump lips, Y/N gasped and clutched his shirt in her hands.

“Please.” She whimpered.

Dean gave a soft, slightly wicked chuckle against her neck as he skimmed down her skin. “That was supposed to be my line, sweetheart.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

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@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@rizlowwritessortof

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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[roostersbby69]

0.4 | Brothers best friend

Summary: the furniture is finally moved in and you finally get to move into the new place.

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Seresin reader

“You sure it’ll be here today?” Jake said through the phone to the delivery guy. He paused as he listened to the guy on the phone, “Okay, because if it isn’t here I’ll sue you.”

You rolled your eyes and continued to play on your phone at the table. Today, you were going to pack your things and, hopefully, move into the house. You had already changed and packed your stuff up, Bradley was putting his things in the bronco and came inside to grab your bag. “This it?” He held up the duffle bag.

You nodded and put your phone in your pocket, “Yeah, thank you.”

“No problem.” He said as he playfully struggled to pick your bag up. You gave him an unamused look and he picked it up with a smile before heading outside to load it in the bronco.

“Alright,” Jake put his phone in his pocket, “let’s hope this works.”

-

You decided to ride with Bradley because you couldn’t take another three hours with Jakes horrible music taste. Bradley had a good playlist, he liked 80s music, it was so much better than Jakes… whatever the hell he listened to.

Sunglasses perched on your nose, you nodded your head to the song he was playing. You slipped your flip flops off and kicked your feet on the dash as you sang the words to Hit the road Jack.

“You know your legs are going to break if we get into a wreck.” He looked at you then turned back to face the road.

“We won’t.” You said then went back to singing.

“Okay, don’t come crying to me when you have to get a double amputation.” He shrugged and sang along.

“You know what car I want.” You set your sunglasses on your head.

“What’s that?” He kept his eyes forward.

“A convertible mustang.” You smiled.

“A convertible?” He looked at you with a twisted face, “why the hell do you need a convertible?”

“Language,” you scolded him, “And it’s convertible mustang, I want to be able to ride along the beach, in a sundress, my arms out the roof, with music playing until I reach my beach house.”

He smiled, “What color?”.

You thought for a second, “Probably white with cherry red seats.”

He nodded and continued to drive as the sun began to set.

-

“Hallelujah!” Jake shook the guys hand as they got the last of the furniture into the house. You had taken your bed frames up to your rooms and set the mattresses on them. The couch and small table were now inside and the chairs were delivered.

“Yeah, sorry it took so long man.” The delivery guy apologized.

“Wasn’t your fault.” You backed him up and shrugged.

He shook Bradley’s and your hand before getting back into the truck and driving off.

You walked inside and plopped on the couch on your stomach.

“This looks like a nice couch.” Jake groaned as he laid on top of you.

You cried out, “Get off of me, fat ass!” You tried to shove him off.

He finally got up and walked off as Bradley sat on the couch with a groan.

“I’m so happy I get my own room.” You smiled.

Bradley gave you a look, “You? I’m so glad I get my own room, since someone took mine. Not pointing any fingers.” He he stretched back and tried to discretely point one at you.

“You offered.” You sat up on your side and scoffed.

He shrugged, “I had to.”

“No you didn’t.” You turned so you stared at the ceiling. “But your mom would be upset if she found out you didn’t offer.”

He nodded, his mom always taught Bradley to be respectful when around other girls, and to be respectful to girls in general.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you dug it out of your pocket to look at it.

Unknown Caller: why arent you responding to me?

You: Maybe I just don’t want to talk.

Unknown Caller: Come over. I miss u

You sighed and set your phony on the ground as you slid off of the couch and slowly onto the carpet floor.

“Look, I don’t know no CPR so don’t rely on me.” Bradley said as he looked up from his phone to you.

You rolled your eyes and groaned. You know you shouldn’t see Jackson. But for some reason you wanted to. Maybe he changed, maybe he matured since high school. Hopefully.

It wouldn’t hurt anything. You could just see how he’s doing and decide then.

You: I don’t have a car.

Unknown Caller: I’ll come pick you up

You: You don’t know where I live

This might be a bad idea. Jake would be furious if he found out you were doing this.

Unknown Caller: Send me the address then

You sighed as Bradley got up from his spot on the couch, should you really be doing this?

You set your phone down, deciding to forget about it, and walked up to your room. You had spent the day putting all of your clothes up and making your bed, you put curtains up and your little desk in the corner.

You grabbed a towel and your pajamas and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

-

“Want a beer?” Bradley asked Jake as he looked into the very empty fridge.

“Always.” Jake rubbed his stomach and grabbed a bottle from Bradleys hand.

You came down the stairs with a towel on your head, Bradley stared at your pink pajama pants and white sports bra.

“Hey!” Jake called to you, you turned around while going to grab your phone from the floor, “put some clothes on in front of Bradley.”

Bradley wasn’t alarmed by this, you rolled your eyes and grabbed your phone before standing up holding your towel on your head.

“Grow up.” You muttered as you passed them and bent down to grab a coke from the fridge.

“Hey!” Jake threw his arms out in front of your ass, trying to cover it from Bradley.

“Come on.” You sighed and walked over to sit at the table with your knees to your chest, “So, Jake, can you take me to go see Jackson?”

“Absolutely not.” He sipped his beer again.

“Why not?”

“Because, I don’t like him, I don’t trust him with you and lord knows what would happen to you.” He went on.

“Yeah, why do you need to see him anyways?” Bradley asked, including himself in the conversation.

“None of y’all’s business.” You shrugged.

“You aren’t even dating.” Jake said, “And you’re definitely not just hooking up.”

You rolled your eyes, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

Bradley watched as the two of you bickered back and forth, he wondered why you needed to see Jackson so bad. He didn’t want you to, but it was none of his business.

He watched as you got up and walked up the stairs, angrily. “I don’t understand why she’s trying to… grow up so fast.” Jake huffed as he downed his beer.

Bradley watched him, “You can’t hide her from everything.” He said and shook his head.

“I know I can’t, but I’m her big brother. It’s my job.”

“If you’re her big brother, then talk to her rather than telling her what to do.” He lectured, “Bossing her around is just going to push her away more, but if you talk to her and tell her you care about her, then she’ll listen.

Jake took his words wisely and nodded before throwing his bottle away. “Old Bradshaw giving wise words.” He teased as he walked up to his room.

Bradley finished his bottle before turning all of the lights out and locking all of the doors. He walked to the couch and grabbed your charger before heading up the stairs to your room.

Your door was cracked as he brought his hand up to knock. He couldn’t help but peek through as he saw you pull your sports bra over your head. He got a peek of the sides of your boobs as your back was turned to him. He straightened up and looked away, respectfully, before waiting another second. He knocked lightly and waited for you to give him the green light to come in.

He opened the door further, acting like nothing happened, and held the charger out for you. “You left this.”

You had changed into a larger shirt and still had on your pajama pants, “Oh thank you.” You grabbed it from him and noticed how warm his hands were.

You held eye contact and noticed how much taller he was than you. He stared at you until you thought you had something on your face. “Is something wrong?” You asked sweetly.

“No, I’m just…” he blinked out of his trance and rubbed his palms on his jeans, “just getting ready for bed.” He headed towards the door.

“Okay, good night Bradley.” You smiled.

“Good night, Y/n.”

—————————————————————

So sorry this was so late!! But thank y’all so much for the love!

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Pains that Grow

Author's note: Su'cona's next chapter.

Past =-= Next

Warnings: descriptions of chronic illness and pain. Uh. Let me know if I need to add anything else.

Summary: Su'cona tends to his bonded when they are having a bad pain day.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

You wake up and turn to look at your phone, which you have charging next to you as it rings, waking you up from sleep. You groan and grab your phone, squinting down at it. Reading the numbers on the clock which brightly tell you the time. You set your phone down and rub your face with a tired groan. 

It’s been a while since you pushed yourself and helped out at a Soup Kitchen. Part of you had known that doing so would have Consequences, but you liked helping out people who had less fortunate situations than yourself when you could. Besides, volunteer work was not quite-mandatory for your Work. 

If you did do Volunteer work, logged the hours, and sent in the hours, dates, times, as well as Proof of doing it, then you’d get extra paid time off. Which could be a godsend sometimes. Your job, which you are very grateful to have is remote work, with once or twice a month you come into the office to have In Person meetings that the Higher ups insisted had to be done in person. 

You didn’t mind it. Much. The in-person training days were fine, and you learned the things that you needed to, or the refresher courses. It also helped when new team members came on to have everyone meet face-to-face, rather than over a Video conference phone call. You shiver a little as you feel a burning feeling that has been spreading over your shoulders and down your back, and has been slowly intensifying since you’d finished doing the Soup Kitchen. 

There is a dull throbbing sensation that pulses angrily to the beat of your heart. During one of the times you had worked at a soup kitchen, you met Su’cona, a Salamander Space Marine. He’d seemed… lost and alone. Which, as far as what you knew about Marines (which wasn’t much, just what ‘everyone said’ about them) it was unusual for him to be alone. 

He’s also hungry, and happy to hand out soup and sandwiches to the very grateful folk who’d shown up for the food and drinks. You hadn’t ever thought about having a Space Marine in your life, sure, as a kid you’d been as excited as most kids about maybe getting a Space Marine, but as you’d gotten older and your life had gotten much fuller and emptier in some ways, you didn’t have room in your life for a pet, or a romance partner, much less a space marine, but one had shown up in your life. 

Large, Green, warm, and very affectionate and friendly. You had to move, since Su’cona had decided you belonged to him now (some people would say that the Space Marine’s belonged to them) for some reason, you think that it’s likely more complicated than that. 

But, having subsidized Space Marine housing that included housing for you because of Space Marine Stuff isn’t something that you were going to complain about. Grateful that your job was mostly remote, and that it was still within reasonable driving distance to get to and from the office in a car. Su’cona was already quietly puttering about, making both of you breakfast. You slowly get up, and carefully stretch as you try not to whimper in pain. You have a high pain tolerance, usually, because of your condition, but it was feeling particularly bad this morning.

Su’cona comes over to where you are, out of armor and tilting his head down, a concerned expression on his face as he trills down at you in Space Marine Language ???. You try to smile up at the big guy.

“Thanks for worrying buddy,” You say rubbing your eyes, “It’s just a bad morning.”

He tilts his head a different way, his brows furrowing, as he lifts a tray of food that had a warm, tasty looking and smelling meal. It’s one of your favorites, but your stomach rumbles uneasily and the thought of food makes you want to gag. 

“Thanks for making breakfast,” You say as you get up, and carefully take the tray from him. “I’m going to do it in a bit, I need to get ready for the day.”

He gives you those devastating fire-bright puppy eyes that melt your heart. Every. Single. Time. Your shoulders slump a little, “Buddy, I need to get ready for work. I get a half day off since I did the Soup Kitchen, but there is an important deadline that the Boss is on my ass about.”

Su’cona rumbles down at his bonded human. They are having a Bad Day, he’d learned quickly that his human had a… condition? Of some kind where they would get pain that would flare up. Their skin would become discolored and warm to the touch. 

It had alarmed him when he’d seen the mottled purplish and irregular looking skin. It had Worried him, afraid that they were ill. As they had been so lethargic and unlike their normal self. He’d gotten one of his Apothecary Brothers to make a house call to see what the issue was.

He’ll make sure to get them some of their medication to help ease the pain, swelling, inflammation. If it’s a particularly bad day, their skin could be so sensitive that the slightest touches of wind or cloth could feel like torture to his poor human.

He wondered if this was a curse that beset his poor human from Chaos. But his Librarian brothers had assured him that it was no curse, and his Apothecary brother’s had explained that it was just how their body was made. Which had distressed him greatly, as he’d hoped he, or his brothers or cousins might be able to help ease their distress and pain.

They also could forget things easily, or become frustrated, with themself, or their world around them. So he’d learned how to help them, make sure to give reminders and help them when their brain and body worked against them. They have such a strong soul and spirit. He admires and cherishes his Bonded human dearly. 

He’s glad that they were able to have a full night’s sleep, as that could be an issue, with the pain their body had, sleeping was in short supply a lot of time. Su’cona had learned about the symptoms and signs of his human’s conditions, and the ways that he could help them… without being overbearing. 

Which had… taken time to learn what they would allow him to help them with and what they wouldn’t allow him to help them with. He knew that some of the Death Guard Apothecaries were willing to make medications that were not available for humanity in this age, for a price, and he’d heard of Apothecary Hura- a Death Guard Veteran and Apothecary who could be… reasonable, for a certain measure of the word with Renegade and Loyalists. Of course, all services come with a price attached to it. He shook his head, banishing thoughts that could go down a bad, dark, ugly road if he wasn’t careful. He’s not met this Hura, only heard of him from his brothers and cousins.

[blackoutspoetry]

Ghoap on the ride out from Las Almas

this follows from a post I made in February you can find here: https://www.tumblr.com/blackoutspoetry/742235462268239872?source=share

I apologize if I've posted this before but I found it in my drafts and wasn't sure if I shared it earlier

background: Ghost has been actively trying to avoid talking about the kiss for weeks but its been complicated after they shipped out to Las Almas, especially more complicated after Grave's betrayal and the Alone Mission, where Ghost had to tap into their mutual feelings to keep Soap alive and talking. Now in the wake of all that, Soap is tired of Ghost being distant. if you enjoy reading this, please consider checking out the first few chapter of this fic posted on ao3 :) https://archiveofourown.org/works/53226112/chapters/134687209

Rain forked across the window in dramatic, twisting rivulets, disturbed periodically by the swaying of the wipers at full speed. The scrape against the window punctuated the stillness of the road, absolute absence of shouting voices, blood and gunfire from all directions. The back window is busted with a neat bullet hole punching just off from the middle and the rain drips a trickle onto the faux leather of the back seat, now also covered in a dusting of reinforced glass. The car now feels more like poorly insulated shack on wheels, but a getaway vehicle is a getaway vehicle. Soap will take anything he can get. 

Soap's teeth are gritted and he can see out of the corner of his eye that Ghost’s hands are clenched around the steering wheel like he’s trying to strangle the cold metal. He keeps glancing back in the rear view mirror at the empty stretch of road behind them. Thankfully, there’s always nothing. But even Soap doesn’t trust his own eyes with the emptiness of the road and he checks the mirror on his door too, just to make sure there wasn’t some asshole with his headlights off tailing them. 

They’re a while out of the centre of town now, but they’ve not passed the threshold of Las Almas just yet. There’s still room for someone to corner them. 

Anything that Graves can dream up now with access to the resources at Alejandro’s base and his own aircraft could render them useless in this tin can. So it went without saying that they needed to get out of the open quickly, but they could not return to Las Almas behind them. 

Soap shifts in his seat to lean his head against the cold window, groaning as his injured arm snags on the seatbelt. 

At the noise, Ghost glances sideways at him. “You alright?” 

“Took a bullet to the arm. The bleeding’s alright now.” 

“When?” 

“Graves took a shot at me before we split. Wasn’t head on and it was rather okay until I took that tumble down the slope. The dirt and grass scratched it up worse.” 

“We need to get that cleaned up,” Ghost says with a worried tone. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Soap shakes his head. “We can take a look at it when we find a place to regroup. Should be a place that Graves doesn’t know about.” 

“I’ve already got that covered, Soap,” Ghost says as they’re coming up on the sign marking the border into Las Almas, now with the open road ahead of them. 

There should now still be a few hours left before sunrise, but throught the drifting clouds, the moonlight pearls on the rain-wet surroundings and renders the world around them in tones of blue and white. It catches every minor divot in the road and the brush growing along side the road, catching on the barbed wire fences sectioning off the farmland on either side and stretching off in parallel lines converging on a distant horizon. 

Briefly, a disturbing vision comes to Soap’s mind as he remembers where he is. He can tell just by how tense Ghost is beside him, that he feels it too. 

“Does it bother you? Being back in Mexico.” 

“We’re in Las Almas, Johnny. Its not quite the same area.” 

“It’s still Mexico.” 

The windshield wipers swiped twice across his line of sight before he added onto the question, trying to prompt Simon into saying something. He can’t take this atmosphere anymore. They’ve barely spoken a word outside of work for the last few months after the engagement party and its starting to grate on his nerves. For a moment there, over comms, the banter, the connection, he caught a fleeting moment of what their relationship had been like up until that day and he misses it. 

His patience is thin, he can’t take it anymore. 

“Won’t you just fucking talk to me.” 

“I am talking to you…” Ghost says, feigning ignorance, but he knows exactly what Soap means by it.

Ahead of them, there’s a fork in the road and Ghost takes a left onto a much less maintained gravel track. 

“Oh cut the shit. you know what I mean. You’ve been avoiding me since that night and I have barely been able to get a word out of you for the past few weeks. You’ve avoided me the entire time we’ve been here and tonight, when I was inches away from losing my life, you decide to start talking to me again. So either, you only care about me as long as you can keep me at arm’s length and use me whenever you decide you’re ready, or I’m starting to think you’ve never cared about me at all.” 

Ghost bristles beside him. “That’s a wild fucking statement to make, Soap. Given that I risked my ass to get you to safety and all I’ve ever done is make sure you don’t fall down the same trap I did when I was too stupid to realise the people I trust were using me. I’m trying to keep you alive.” 

“Its your job. That doesn’t mean you care about me…” he says after a moment, softer, slow. Like he’s trying to understand the gravity of each of those words. The word ‘love’ is right there, but he can’t say it. Neither of them will be able to salvage this thing if he says that right now.  

“You actually think I don’t care about you?” Ghost asks incredulously and Soap feels like he’s actually overstepped a line, but its too late to take it back now. He needs to stand with what he said, even if he regrets it.

He avoids eye contact, choosing to focus on some approaching lone standing tree in the distance. 

“I mean, sort of. You haven’t really given me any reason to think otherwise.” 

Soap curses as the car lurches to a sudden halt with Ghost slamming his foot on the brakes, hard. Even through the mask, Soap can feel Ghost’s eyes burning him, but he refuses to look. 

“I care so much it scares me. Every day I wake up and I think about you. I think about you dying and there’s nothing I can do to save you. Everyone I’ve ever cared about, anyone I’ve ever loved, died because of me. My mother overdosed on drugs while I was away and I couldn’t save her. My brother and his wife and kid got killed because my past came back to haunt me when I escaped the hell I went through in Mexico. I just don't want to be the reason you die."

[intosnarkness]

So my cat died today.

(tw:pet illness, death)

idk I might try and write the whole story later, but 15 years is a lot to try and boil down. (NB, I got him when he was 2, which you might have figured out because he was 17.)

But long story short, in February of 22 I was in Florida setting up an expo for work when the vet called me. Nat had taken the boys for a dental cleaning, and Peri lost like, a pound in a few weeks.

I was 900 miles away and could do nothing as they did scans and blood tests and I hid behind a shipping crate and cried.

They found a mass in his stomach and he's been on steroids since. We didn't know what it was, because I didn't want to do the exploratory on a cat his age. The vet agreed. I thought at the time that I had 3 months left. I got 18.

Recently Pman has had less appetite. This came to a head on Wednesday when I got home from work to feed the cats and he didn't come when I opened the can. He was also leaving more and more food uneaten.

I called the vet yesterday but it didn't feel emergent so when i got voicemail I gave up. Called again around 11 this morning and they asked me to bring him in ASAP. I had a Feeling then that today was going to end with a cremation.

Nat was headed home early from work because they're doing construction on his building and he was Done so I called and asked him to take Peri in. He agreed.

When he got to the house, Peri had found a bobbin for embroidery floss at some point between when I left at 7:45am and when he got home at 11:45am and eaten the thread off of it.

Nat called me and I just.. left. I just got up and left work and called the people I needed to call from the car to tell them I had a pet emergency and was leaving for the day. Nat and I met at the vet.

The issues came down to this:

When a cat eats string, your concern is it being in the intestine. If you pull on the string you can tear the intestine with the pressure. If you don't know how long it's been, you need to scope the cat or do exploratory surgery.

Our vet did not have anyone to scope the cat. They called every other vet in town, apparently. Time ticked by. They found one about 40 minutes away.

At this point it was close to 1:30. In the best scenario, it had been at least 2 hours since the thread entered his system. It would be another hour before we could get the scope in him. I kept saying to Nat, as we sat and waited, that there was no world where it wasn't in the intestine by the time we got him there. This is when I started to really fucking lose it.

If the string was in the intestine, they were going to have to do exploratory abdominal surgery on a 17-year-old cat to get it out. I remember what his recovery was like when he was 3 and did this. I was not sure it was fair to do that to a cat as old as him. I was pretty sure I had murdered my best friend with embroidery floss, which is going to be funny in retrospect but right now it isn't.

I know Peri has eaten string before. I remember the night he did it in the Laurel apartment like it was yesterday. I was usually vigilant about not leaving shit around for him to eat. The number of times I nagged Nat about spools of thread, or shoelaces, or twist ties. I looked at that bobbin yesterday and thought "I should put that away before Peri gets at it." I did not put it away. I was starting to convince myself that I killed my cat. That this whole thing was my fault. Poor Nat sitting next to me in this vet room. He is not an affectionate person. He does not touch. I doubt we have ever hugged. Here we are, and I'm holding my cat and crying. He mustered up all his courage and touched my shoulder. We stan one emotionally unavailable roommate.

As it turned out, it didn't matter. The x-ray revealed that the mass in his stomach had moved to his chest. His lungs were scalloped around the edges and there was fluid around his heart.

Nat and I both cried and killed an entire box of tissues. Peri let me hold him and he even gave us some moops. The vet told me to just keep talking. And the only thing I remember saying was that he had been such a good mommy to those ferals we fostered because he did such a good job of raising me, first.

So best boy, lover of Popsicle sticks, Wrong Tail haver, spottiest cat and cattiest spot, Peri Pants McGee, the Periman, Pman, Mr. Mooperman, and any other name I called him over the last 15 years was the best cat that most of you never got to meet.

His favorite thing in the world was when I put a blanket over my legs and then he laid on the blanket. He liked to lick my toes and ankles, which was the worst. He was a very good reason to stay alive on certain days when that didn't seem to be a priority. He was my best friend, and I love him.

[luvvsim]

loml

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

park sunghoon was once the love of your life, and now he would be remembered as the loss of it. inspired by this song, i strongly advise u to listen to it as you’re reading<3

⊹ ࣪ ˖ park sunghoon x fem reader ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings | purely angst,, major character death, arguments,, car accident mentioned.

(a/n) ;; guys pls pls pls listen to loml by ts as ur reading, it adds so much to the experience like i was so emo as i was writing this :c I apologize in advance. <3

⋆ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 1.6k

our field of dreams, engulfed in fire. your arsons match, your somber eyes. and I’ll still see it, until I die. you’re the loss of my life. ‹𝟹

the sun had barely risen, casting a soft, golden light through the sheer curtains of your shared apartment. the faint glow illuminated the room, making everything look almost ethereal, like a scene from a dream. but this morning, it felt more like a nightmare.

you and sunghoon had been arguing the night before. it started over something small – he had forgotten to pick up groceries on his way home. but like all unresolved tensions, it escalated quickly. the argument spiraled into something neither of you had anticipated, touching on deeper, more painful issues that had been boiling up inside of you beneath the surface for months.

“i don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal out of this,” sunghoon had said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“it’s not about the groceries, hoon!” you had snapped back. “it’s about you never listening to me anymore! you’re always so caught up in your own little world that you don’t even notice when i need you.”

he had run a hand through his hair, a gesture that showed he was trying to keep his temper in check. “that’s not fair, y/n. you know how busy i’ve been with work.” he said shaking his head at you as you felt yourself getting angrier.

“busy? we’re all busy! trust me, i’m busy too! but we make time for the people we care about. or at least, we’re supposed to.”

the argument had gone on for hours now, voices raised and accusations thrown cracking each of your hearts more by the second, each word cutting deeper. by the end, you were both exhausted and emotionally drained. sunghoon had retreated to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him, leaving you alone in the living room, tears streaming down your face.

you stared at the door, contemplating on making up with sunghoon, but you shook your head. you were done with the way he had been treating you, now he could deal with the consequences of his own actions.

the next day, in the early morning light, the weight of last night’s argument hung heavy in the air. you sat at the kitchen table, staring blankly at a cold cup of coffee. you replayed the argument over and over in your mind, feeling the sting of regret with every bitter word exchanged.

sunghoon emerged from the bedroom, dressed for work. his face was pale and his eyes red-rimmed, a stark contrast to his usual composed self. he paused in the doorway, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read – a mix of regret and something else, something you couldn’t place.

“i’m leaving for work,” he said quietly, almost whispering. “i’ll be back late tonight. we can talk then.”

you didn’t look up. you couldn’t. the words were stuck in your throat, and all you could manage was a stiff nod.

sunghoon hesitated, then walked over to you. he bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “i love you, y/n,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

“mhm.”

that was all you could say, his words from last night were still clouded over you.

you were still too hurt, too angry. you didn’t respond. you didn’t even look at him. he lingered for a moment, as if waiting for you to say something else , anything else. when you didn’t, he straightened and walked out the door, the sound of it closing echoing through the empty apartment.

as the silence filled the air once again, you felt a churn in your stomach. a bad feeling, maybe you should’ve said something else, you thought.

the day passed in a blur. you went through the motions, trying to focus on anything other than the gnawing ache in your chest. but everything reminded you of sunghoon – his favorite coffee mug, the jacket he left draped over the chair, the photo of the two of you on the fridge, smiling and happy, a contrast to the misery you felt now.

you kept checking your phone, hoping for a text, a call, anything from sunghoon. but there was nothing. the silence was deafening.

It was now late in the evening, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, you had been sitting on your couch, waiting for sunghoon to get home, yes you were angry but you had missed him much more than anything else.

and suddenly, there was a knock at the door. you excitedly opened it expecting to find sunghoon, but except finding two police officers standing there, their faces solemn.

“are you park y/n?” one of them asked gently.

your heart dropped to your stomach, you knew whatever the man was going to say next probably wasn’t going to be good.

“yes,” you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

“i’m afraid we have some bad news ma’am. your partner, park sunghoon, was involved in a car accident this afternoon. and.. i’m sorry, he didn’t make it.”

the world seemed to stop. everything around you faded into a blur, and all you could hear was the deafening roar of your own heartbeat. you felt like you were drowning, the weight of their words dragging you down into a dark spiral.

“no, no, you’re mistaken.” you whispered, shaking your head. “no, that can’t be true. i just saw him this morning, he was here- he can’t be...”

the officers exchanged a glance, their expressions filled with pity. “i’m very sorry for your loss. if there’s anything we can do...”

but their words were lost on you. the room seemed to spin, and you clutched the doorframe to keep from collapsing. sunghoon was gone. your sunghoon.

the last thing you had said to him – or rather, hadn’t said – echoed in your mind, shadowing down on you as if it was mocking you, a cruel reminder of your silence.

“i love you, y/n.”

the memory of his soft voice, so soft and full of longing and love, cut through you like a knife. you had ignored him, let him walk out the door without a word. and now he was gone. forever, and you couldn’t help but think he died not knowing how much you had loved him.

in the days that followed, you moved through life in a daze, present but not really there. the apartment felt unbearable, each corner filled with the ghost of sunghoon. you couldn’t escape him, and the memories – his laughter, his touch, the way he used to hold you when you were sad. every moment was a painful reminder of what you had lost.

you found yourself replaying that final morning over and over, wishing you could go back, not arguing with him, holding him a little longer, asking him to stay, and telling him how much you had loved him, but it was too late. the chance to make things right had slipped right through your fingers, leaving you with nothing but regret and a heart shattered into a million pieces.

sunghoon’s funeral was a blur of black clothes, tears and somber faces. you stood by his casket, staring down at his peaceful face, wishing with everything in you that he would open his eyes, with that gentle smile, and tell you everything would be okay. but he didn’t. he was gone, and nothing would bring him back.

as you stood over the casket, you held his hand. it was cold, it wasn’t the same warm hands holding you at night- the same hands holding you only two weeks ago.

glistening tears ran down your cheek as the people surrounding you watched in pity and despair for you.

“poor girl.. losing her husband at such a young age, i can’t imagine.” they whispered.

as the weeks turned into months, the pain didn’t fade. it settled into your bones and became a part of you, a constant ache that you couldn’t escape. you tried to move on, tried to live your life, but the weight of your loss was always there, a heavy shadow that followed you everywhere.

you couldn’t possibly forget him, he was your everything, he was the love of your life- and now he’ll be remembered as the loss of your life.

every night, as you lay in bed, you would hear his voice in your mind, whispering those final words. “i love you, y/n.”

you’d feel the absence of his comforting embrace, the arms that would coax you to sleep, his kisses, the feeling of his hair tickling your neck.

you remembered the wedding vows, you remember how sunghoon had promised you a lifetime with him, how you were supposed to grow old together.

you would give anything to hear him say his last words to you one more time, to have one more chance to say it back. but all you had were memories, and the haunting realization that the love of your life was gone, leaving behind a void that could never be filled.

@luvvsim

[thenwethrowitonthefire]

Shout-out to everyone who survived a "fun" easter with the family

[lovelyisadora]

it isn’t the end of the semester but i’m already having my end of the semester breakdown oh my GOD I am going to have a heart attack. sprite save me

[kennabeth]

dustfinger is so funny imagine being so painfully awkward that you just let your family think you're a cheater who abandoned them if it means you don't have to have a Conversation

[echoxshxrx]

.

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[madigoround]

I’m literally just venting below to get it out of my head feel free to ignore