#i'm in my mid 20's i swear

[quarklynx]

here’s my cosplay of that old lady with a sword

[nuhuhwinniethepooh]

Valentine's Day

Tags : smut with slight plot, f!reader, non-con?, freaky satoru, reader is in a relationship with a non-sorcerer, basically has cheating implied but it's not cheating (I'm gonna defend reader with my life on this), unprotected sex (I cannot stress this enough but do not attempt, use protection), characters are in their mid 20's, lil' angst (if you squint), Non-con (nvm it's con, I change my mind), stomach bulge (it's subtle), plot twist in the end.

Minors please. You know the drill, out 🚪🚶🏻‍♀️👈🏼

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Gojo regrets his offer on lending an ear to you, tired of listening to every whine and complaints you make against your non-sorcerer boyfriend that you've been dating for 5 months; he really should've joined Suguru on his mission to eradicate all non-sorcerers, at least he'd have you all to himself then.

But what he regrets most is the fact that he didn't ask you out earlier than your current boyfriend, missing the chance to be called yours, instead that rat-faced guy- that can't treat you right- now has the label of being yours. But now you're telling Gojo that you suspect your boyfriend's cheating on you? He couldn't be more delighted listening to that. Maybe he doesn't really regret on his offer afterall.

"And guess what Satoru! I called him last night and I swear on my life that I heard a woman's voice on the line calling him back to bed before he cut the call on me!" You throw your arms up frustratedly, inches away from smacking Satoru's face as you plop down on the couch with a dejected sigh and a small frown, missing the glint in his eyes; you'd have missed the sight either way since he wears a blindfold.

"Why are you even with him then?"

Another heavy sigh from you makes Satoru sigh too, why couldn't you just break up with your current boyfriend and get with him instead? Satoru is way better in everything and did he mention that he's way better in everything? Yes, he did. What else do you want from him at this point? "You don't understand, I love him," you mumble, fiddling with your hands as you stare at the ceiling longingly. Unbeknownst to you Satoru did understand afterall he holds the same feelings you do; seething with jealousy again, he silently curses the very three words that poured out of your mouth that wasn't aimed towards him. He hates your boyfriend with a burning passion now, well more than he usually did.

"I love him," you whisper softly, leaving Satoru unsure on if you're convincing yourself of your love or announcing your love to the world; he'd prefer the former choice if it came down to it.

February 14th, 6 : 45 PM

Satoru rushes towards the bus stop as he looks down at his phone and your stagnant location, unmoving and unchanging for the past 2 hours, fearing for the worst of situation. Looking around hurriedly after arriving, his heart leaps with relief when he catches sight of your figure but it falls just as quickly as he notices your condition.

Your beautiful locks was now unkempt because of the wind, your skin peeking out of the sleeveless dress almost looked translucent with the chill settling in but what broke his heart was your expression, the look of a shattered heart set so deep in your eyes that you no longer looked like you anymore.

"You're gonna get sick at this rate," he sighs, throwing his coat over your shoulders. You look up at him with listless eyes, redness decorating every inch of it as you wipe your sore eyes again. "He cheated on me," you say quietly, shivering slightly as you finally come to your senses, pulling the coat a little tighter over you.

Helping you up on your feet, he pulls you close with an arm and gently rubs your back," Let's get you home," he mumbles softly- you slump under his hold, mindlessly moving your feet as he takes you back home.

7 : 23 PM

"Tell me everything from the start," he folds his arm across his chest with his blindfold off, satisfied as he watches you all bundled up on the couch. You take in a deep breathe, lips wobbling slightly as you pathetically hold back tears again; Satoru really needs to get rid of your boyfriend quickly.

"Well, I wanted to surprise him for valentines day so I stopped by his house," you take in a deep breathe, voice thick with emotions as your trembling hands pick on the blanket over you. "An- and when I entere-," you sputter, fresh new wave of tears pouring out of you as the memory floods in. Immediately rushing to your side on the couch, he pulls you in and shushes at you- baffled at how vulnerable you were at the moment, he watched you exorcise curses multiple times your size and strength without seeing you flinch even once but the fact that one non-sorcerer has you shaking in tears baffles him, thoroughly so.

You clench onto his shirt, looking up at his cerulean eyes with your own wet eyes and tear-stained cheeks." Satoru, help me," you whimper out pleadingly. "What?" Satoru breathes out, looking down at you from the squashing hold he has you under, "Help me forget," you sob and he mentally kicks himself for finding you so pretty even in this situation.

"Knock me out, use your cursed techniques. Do whatever you want just please hel-" he cuts you off, pressing his lips softly against yours- no longer able to hold his feelings back when you're practically begging him, all his morals practically thrown out of the window. Your breathe hitches in surprise when you feel his hand snaking up your head, tangling it in your hair and feels his tongue swiping against your lips for entrance; you pull away and he reluctantly allows you to do so, lips slightly parted as he looks at you guiltily.

"I'm sor-" this time you cut him off, pulling him in and crushing your lips against his- you needed to forget and he kissed you first...so that's a good sign isn't it? The feeling of heartbreak and want to forget completely over-powering the guilt of using Satoru for your own benefit; Satoru couldn't be happier though, the initial shock of being kissed was wearing off and being replaced by a primal urge, he could finally show you that he was so much better than your boyfriend. In more ways than one.

Hungrily kissing your soft lips, he paws at the blanket and pulls it off of you, eager to touch your skin- delighted when you allow him to do so, your own hands tangling in his hair. "Bedroom," you gasp hurriedly, pointing towards the direction and he immediately complies. Stumbling towards the bedroom, neither breaking the heated kiss as pieces of clothing gets discarded on the floor and fingers tug at everything and anything.

Reaching the room without breaking the kiss, Satoru tugs at your bra with a firm pull and rips it apart, earning him a small protest out of you," I'll replace that later," he mumbles in your lips, hands cupping your ass. Sloppily kissing your jaw and making his way down to your exposed chest; licking, sucking and rolling every inch of your skin possible, marking your body red and purple- he shuts the door behind him with his feet, reveling in the small sounds of pleasure gushing out of your mouth.

"Satoru, can't stand," you whine out when your legs gives out under you, arms wrapped weakly around his neck as he lifts you up and gently lays you down on the bed, shifting himself right in-between your legs and prying it open with little effort from his side when you try to shut it close. Hooking a finger at the edge of your lacy underwear, he pulls it down torturously slowly- mouth drying up at the sight of your cunt, wet and clenching onto nothing. "So pretty," he coos, holding your thighs apart with his hands, he leans down and inhales your scent, ignoring the way you squirmed underneath him. Gently parting your folds with his fingers and watching your slick coat your walls, he swallows thickly as he licks his lips.

"Wai-" you cry out, hands hurriedly grabbing onto the sheets when he sucks at your clit with no warning, gulping down your juice like a starved man," tastes s' good," he moans, sending vibrations through you; arching your back and grinding your hips against his face, your eyes roll back from the stimulation. Popping a long slender finger inside, he explores every inch; a wide grin stretching on his face when he grazes a spot and your hip bucks up, sucking his finger whole with a loud moan.

"That feel good?" He asks, lazily adding in another and abusing your weak spot. You nod your head, hands clasping over your mouth to hold back your moans as tears collect in your eyes again, spilling over the edges and onto the sheets. "You look so much prettier crying under me instead of over him," he mumbles, resting his head on your thigh as he looks up at you with flushed cheeks, working his fingers inside you.

Fondling his clothed bulge with his other hands, his gaze zeroes on you, burning every detail into memory afterall you might never wanna see him again after this so he'd rather take the chance to memorize all your cute reactions and small mewls, clenching around his finger and oozing cream over it as you jerk from your orgasm, your vision goes black and Satoru moans loudly with you- imagining his cock being replaced with his fingers does wonders for him.

"I'm putting it in," he sits up hurriedly, positioning himself between your legs while pulling his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. You gulp at the sight of it, pre-cum leaking out heavily from the tip and his happy trail making it just the more appetizing but there was just one big problem- he was big, too big in both girth and length. He was so much bigger than your boyfriend and your boyfriend's dick felt right despite not wanting to admit it, the size did feel right. But Satoru's? His was gonna rip you, it's not gonna fit and you're not exaggerating just for the sake of it. It was pretty, sure but it's not gonna fit.

"That's not gon-" he cuts you off yet again, shoving his slick covered fingers in your mouth as he tuts at you disapprovingly. Gathering the slick from your folds with his other hand, he slathers it against his raging cock reverently- pulling his fingers out of your mouth, he licks it clean as he watches you gulp from the sight of it, a small smirk on his face; pushing your folds apart, he angles his fat tip against your hole and pushes in slowly.

"Satoru, wait," you whine out, hands pushing against his muscled alabaster chest, squirming under him and trying to scoot backwards but alas, his grip on your hips prevents you from doing so," you should stop moving so much," he grunts, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes to hold himself back from slamming his cock in you.

"I change my mind, stop. Please," you plead, nails digging in his chest and he sighs, frustratedly pushing his hair back and quickly pulling away from you. Watching him leave out the door, "probably to pick up his clothes," you think, relieved for having your cunt spared despite the ache between your legs. Your relief is quickly cut short when see Satoru enter the bedroom still naked, still hard but with a blindfold in hand now, leaving you swallowing thickly.

"What's that for?" You squeak nervously, sitting up and looking at him standing above you with a wide grin, flashing his pearly whites at you which just unsettles you more. "You'll find out," he murmurs, leaning down and grabbing your ankle, pulling you towards him when you start inching backwards. Your sputtered out protests falls on deaf ears and you're left shocked when he pulls the blindfold over your eyes, hindering your sight as you start panicking, hurriedly trying to pull it off your eyes but stopped when a hand grabs hold of your wrists and pins it above your head with a bruising grip, pushing you flat on the bed.

More protests pours out of your mouth but is quickly silenced when soft lips crushes against yours, the lack of sight only making you more sensitive when you feel a hand press down on your belly, lighting your skin aflame and groaning when the hold on your wrists tightens ever so slightly. Heat pools in your stomach and you buck your hips up, helplessly grinding your throbbing cunt against chiseled abs for friction. Loud whimpers of protest from you gets muted down by Satoru's lips against yours when he pushes his cock between your walls, unrelenting even when you're tugging at your wrists and squirming under him.

Inch by inch, he pushes into your velvety walls steadily with no sign of stopping, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels your cunt squeeze and pull him in so needily. "You're s' needy," he moans in your lips, finally bottoming out in you with a grunt, pulling a long needy whine out of you. The delicious stretch of his cock minimizing the pain of being stretched so far, your eyes cross underneath the blindfold and your mouth lolls open, giving Satoru free reign as he sucks and lolls his tongue with yours. Pulling away with a loud smack, a string of saliva attaching itself between both your swollen lips, he looks down at your breatheless, twitching body with a satisfied hum.

"You're really so selfish, y'know?" He grunts, grinding his hips against yours, not yet letting go of his hold on your hand. "All you do is whine and complain about your boyfriend to me without ever caring about how I feel," he stutters, pulling out and ramming back into you with a loud squelch, you squeal and arch your back as he looks down fascinatedly at your cunt taking him in.

"And do you know what makes it worse? The fact that you always say you love him in my face," an incoherent babbles of what he thinks is 'I'm sorry' pours out of you, uncaring of your condition he continues ramming himself in with every word. "When you clearly know that I love you, it's like you consciously try to make me jealous," he snaps his cock brutally against your sweet spot, his hand finally lets go of your pinned hands and grabs hold of your hips to pull you down and meet his. His other hand abusing your swollen clit, leaving you with broken whimpers and stuttering breathes.

Leaning down and resting his face on the crook of your neck, his whispered "I love you's" falling upon unheard ears. Kitten scratching his back and your hips moving against his, his hand glides down to the protusion on your belly everytime he's inside and presses down on it- light flashes in your eyes through the blindfold and you squeal out, cunt squirting it's juices against his stuttering pace. Still fucking you through your orgasm until he cums in you, your silky cunt milking him for all it's worth.

He falls down ontop of you and refuses to pull out, trying to plug his cum inside you- lucky him if he got you pregnant. Pulling the blindfold off from your eyes, he looks at your starstruck eyes with a tired grin. "That help you forget?" He mumbles, kissing your collarbone as you weakly nod your head. You whimper tiredly when you feel his softened cock get hard inside your sensitive hole," Let's just make sure it stays that way, yea?"

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Bonus :

Satoru is woken up by the sound of a ringing phone, groggily looking around when he notices your naked form snuggled against his which pulls a small smile out him. However the insistent ringing is starting to annoy him, what if it woke you up and made you pull away from him? He'll get to that when you wake up naturally, he has plenty of time till then.

Sighing and gently prying you off of him, his silent footsteps pads off towards the hallway filled with strewn clothes. Reaching down to your upturned phone, he annoyedly picks it up and looks at the caller, "Love♡" being the ID, he rolls his eyes at it. Why was your boyfriend even calling you at 4 in the morning? "That's a nice way of calling yourself insensitive." He mumbles to himself, picking the call up and bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hey, its not what you think it is. I swea-" your boyfriend starts, " Thanks for messing up. I appreciate it," Satoru cuts him off, quickly cutting the call and switching it off, silence ensuing in the dark hallway again. Throwing your phone back into the pile of clothes, he makes his way towards the bedroom again when another phone starts to ring. He lets out a frustrated grunt, he shut the phone down so why is it ringing? Looking down he realizes it's his and sighs when he looks at the caller ID, "Plan C". Begrudgingly picking the call, he mumbles an annoyed hello.

"I did what you told me too, that'll be a million," a feminine voice rings from the other line," I'll send it right now," Satoru answers, quickly sending the cash through online payment. "Great doing business with you," the voice replies cheerily before cutting the call. Satoru shuts his phone too, languidly throwing it in the pile again as he walks towards the room. He got rid of your feelings for your boyfriend now all he needs to do is get rid of your boyfriend before you realize that everything was a set-up.

You're smart afterall, talking to your boyfriend might just give Satoru's plan away but until then, all Satoru wants to do is snuggle with you for the moment. He'll save the rest later.

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I know I'm 4 days late for valentines but I had to post this 😭 luckily, my cast is off now >♡< (can't say the same about my laptop though 🥲)

Updates will be slower than usual until I replace my laptop.

Masterlist

[keikikait]

ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ (ʙɪᴋᴇʀ!ᴍᴇɢᴜᴍɪ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

for my other megumi fic, click here (warning - smut!)

pairing: biker!megumi x f!reader (au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 2k

summary: you love your new apartment, as small as it is. it's in the perfect place, right next to the train station, and is cheap as hell. the only downside? your neighbour, who revs his bike outside your window every morning.

warnings: NO SMUT!, no angst!, multi part series, kind of enemies to lovers, slowburn?, megumi is kinda rude lmaoooo, the girls are fighting!, he says sweetheart twice, reader is kinda down bad lmao

a note: sorry for the delay, i've been busy with work! also, 8 square metres is about 86 square feet :).

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

The rent was cheap. Suspiciously cheap. 

You should’ve been wary, but you didn’t have many options. After a bitter fallout with your roommate, you needed to move out quickly. You should’ve paid more attention to the listing, you realise, as you stop in front of the building and it sinks in that your new digs weren’t 18 square metres.

It was eight square metres. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have much furniture with you, needing to sell it all to afford the move. Your apartment was essentially one long, two-story hallway, just enough for your desk chair and TV. 

You get settled in quickly, trying to liven up the place by replanting your herb garden outside on your small porch. The apartment doors faced an alley, and on the other side of the alley was another apartment building. You didn’t know how much sunlight your basil would get, but that’s a problem for future you.

A problem for the current you, however, was your neighbour's motorcycle. The bike is an exact replica of the legendary Honda Super Cub that was used in the original anime Akira, and as pretty as it is, that shit is loud. His apartment is right on the edge by the sidewalk, meaning the only place he can park it is right in front of your window.

You’ve tried everything. Earplugs. Noise-cancelling headphones. Ear plugs under your noise-cancelling headphones. Sleeping with a white noise machine. Nothing works. You only moved in a month ago but you’re already sick of this mysterious man and his bike. You don’t run into each other often, catching glimpses of him as he drives off in the morning and comes home at night. You didn’t want to be that neighbour, the one that complains about every single little thing, but it was driving you mad. He revs his bike so loudly and for so long, that you’re starting to think he’s doing it on purpose.

You wake up that fateful morning and decide you’ve had enough. You wait for him to return home, hyping yourself up in the mirror before heading outside to confront him. You idle nervously in front of his front door for a few seconds before knocking. 

He answers, looking exhausted, his hair a mess from his helmet. “Yeah?” You have to admit, he’s pretty cute. Tall and lean, with bicep muscles that strain against the fabric of his black t-shirt. And you swear you can see some eyeliner smudged on his water line.

You smile, trying to come across as calm and casual, slightly flustered by how attractive he is. “Hey. I’m your new next-door neighbour,” You gesture with your thumb. “I don’t wanna be that person, but would it be possible for you to not rev your engine so loud in the morning? It’s just…it’s right by my window, and it’s really loud.”

He lets out a sigh of frustration, not exactly in the mood for what you're throwing at him. It was already 9 pm on the third day in a row that he had worked the late shift, and this was not something he needed right now. He looks at you, his expression a mixture of irritation and confusion. “Look, I'm not doing it on purpose. I park where I park, nothing is going to change that. You just moved in, this is how it's been and how it's always going to be.”

You blink, a little taken aback by how rude he was being. “I understand that, but surely I'm not the only person in the building who gets inconvenienced by your bike.”

He crosses his arms, his eyes narrowing. The last thing he wants to do after a long shift is argue with someone about something as insignificant as noise. “Look, if you don't like it, then move out. I don't see anybody else complaining. You're the only one.”

You clench your jaw. You had some experience with bikes, your ex-boyfriend being a mechanic. You knew it was possible to make the revving quieter, it just seems like he didn’t care. “Can’t you just buy a muffler silencer?”

He lets out a short, sharp laugh, one that doesn't hold a single trace of humor.  “A muffler silencer? For a Super Cub? Are you serious? That would be like asking a Ferrari to be quiet.”

“You can’t expect everyone to just be okay with how loud your bike is, man.” You say. “I’m sure it inconveniences everyone in the building, but no one wants to be the person that confronts you.”

He seems to be holding back from saying what he wants to say, taking a shallow breath. “Look. It's my bike. I can do whatever I want with it. No one else is bothered, so why should you be any different? Why do you care so much?”

“You’re not the only person who works early mornings.” You say. “You aren’t the only person in the world, you know.”

That strikes a nerve, clearly, but he still doesn't seem interested in hearing what you're saying. He just rolls his eyes, looking away at his bike for a moment before looking back at you. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but in case you haven't realised, you're not that important.”

“Neither are you.” You say impulsively. It was mean, and you didn’t like being mean, but he wasn’t giving you any other option.

He glares at you, his expression darkening. It's only for a moment, but you can see there is actual vitriol in his eyes. “Look, I'm going to make this simple for you. If you don't like the noise, then move out. That bike is not going anywhere. It has more meaning to me than you'll ever understand.”

“Yeah, I’m sure Akira meant so much to you as a kid,” You say sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t keep doing this, man. Buy a muffler silencer.” 

He laughs, but there's a slight tinge of bitterness to it. “Oh, so it's just a cartoon to you? It’s not an influential masterpiece that changed motorcycle and animation culture forever? Okay, great. Good to know.” He is starting to get worked up, but then he shakes his head, trying to regain his composure. “Look, like I said, I am not doing anything to this bike. Not the mufflers, nothing.”

“Then park it somewhere else.” You snap. “Keep it away from my window. I don’t want to hear that shit.”

There's a flash of annoyance on his face. “There's no place to park it away from your window unless I block the sidewalk, which I guarantee you would cause more inconvenience. You're just going to have to deal with it.”

“Are you always this rude and stuck up?” The question stumbles out of your mouth before your mind can process it.

His temper flares up. He takes a step towards you, putting his hands on his hips as he glares at you. “Are you always this entitled and self-absorbed?”

You take a step back. You hate to admit it, but the way he towers over you is arousing. His cologne fills your nostrils and you find yourself getting lightheaded. It was slightly spicy, with a hint of vanilla and coffee. 

You ground yourself, swallowing hard. “Look, I don’t want to argue with you. I just want us to come to a reasonable compromise.”

He glares at you, his eyes boring into you as you step back. You can feel the heat on your skin as if every drop of sweat in his body has been activated by the situation. His cologne is overwhelming you, filling your whole body. “There is no compromise to make here. You don't like the noise, tough. You're just going to have to get used to it or move out. That's it.”

Your eye twitches. “You’re such an asshole.” At this point, you didn’t feel bad being mean to him. He kind of deserved it.

He laughs, seeming almost amused by your temper. “You're one to talk. You come barging up to my apartment, demanding I make changes to my bike, and then you get mad at me when I tell you not to waste your time. Look in the mirror, sweetheart, and then come back with the right to tell me I'm an asshole.”

Fuck. You shouldn’t like the way he says sweetheart, but it causes your throat to dry up. “I tried to be nice to you,” You say. “You’re the one that got defensive and rude.”

“Nice? Maybe in your little dreamland that's what you think you were doing. Maybe you even believe that you were just being friendly and reasonable, I don't know. But in reality, all you were doing was pissing me off and acting like some sort of entitled princess.” He takes a step closer to you, his finger pointed in your face. “But one thing is certain. I’m not changing anything about my bike just to make you happy.”

He’s so close to you that it makes your head spin. You step back again, leaning against the railing surrounding his small porch. “Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t blame me for being upset.”

He doesn't seem interested in letting you off the hook yet, not when he looks so close to snapping. “It doesn't matter if you're upset or not. You don't get what you want by coming here and giving me an attitude like a fucking brat.”

You swallow hard. Fuck. You shouldn’t be attracted to this man, he was rude as hell and didn’t seem to care that he was inconveniencing not only you but everyone in the building. But you couldn’t help yourself. He was so pretty, and he smelled so good, and his voice was so nice. You were going to have to change your panties when you got back home. 

You stand up straight, trying to stay headstrong. “You’re being incredibly rude about this.”

“And you're being incredibly entitled. There's only one of us that needs to change here, and it's not me.” He narrows his eyes, his gaze still burning into you.

You lick your lips. “Look, we’re not going to get anywhere by arguing.”

He gives another one of those short, sharp laughs. He smiles, and it makes your stomach flip. “You finally said something smart. I didn’t know it was so difficult for you. Now, are you ready to accept that you're not going to get what you want, or do you want to keep wasting my time?”

Your eyes narrow. What the fuck? “Excuse me? Did you just call me dumb?”

A smirk spreads across his lips. “You heard me. Or did you need me to repeat it for you?”

You let out a sharp laugh, moving off of his porch. “You know what? Fuck you.”

He raises his eyebrow, a faint smile on his lips. “Oh, so you've switched from demanding to insults? Real mature, aren't you?”

You head over to your apartment, laughing again. “I should’ve known trying to reason with you would be impossible.” 

He calls after you. “You're damn right it's impossible. You come here, make some demands, and then get mad when I tell you no. You're a spoiled brat who always gets her way, aren't you? Well, today's a bad day for you, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck you.” You say, holding the door to your apartment open. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I’m not sure I want to.” He says, smirking slightly. “I’m not into brats like you. I think you need to be taken down a few pegs. You need someone to put you in your place.”

You scoff and flip him off before slamming the door behind you, and just like that, you have given up. 

He leans against his door, crossing his arms and smiling as he watches you leave, his eyes on your ass. He’s just a tiny bit disappointed that you gave up so quickly. He's got to admit, it was pretty fun messing with you, watching how angry you get. He thought you looked cute like that, your cheeks all red and flustered.

Maybe next time…

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

part two is here

dedicated to the lovely @whereflowerswenttodie

[becca-e-barnes]

The Bad Day at Work

I'd been thinking about The Video earlier and I thought this might make an awfully sexy short part 2. In my head, the two pieces are set a couple of months apart. If you didn't already think I have a God complex, you'll think that by the time you're finished reading this 🙃

Pairing: Pornstar!Dad's Best Friend!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky has a tough day on set

Warnings: Age gap (Bucky is in his late 40's, reader is in her mid 20's), masturbation, unprotected sex, cream pie, praise kink, mentions of pornography

Minors, do not interact

You were beyond glad that your parents weren't home when the front clicked shut.

You were even more glad to be home alone when you felt a pair of warm lips on your neck, restless hands on your waist and the slight scruff of Bucky's stubble scratching your skin.

"Hello, you." You couldn't help but smile, partly because you didn't expect to see him today but mostly because he was so fucking eager.

You felt him hum his response more than you heard it. His mouth was occupied after all. His fingers flexed and tightened their grip on your waist, pulling you as close as he could manage.

"Good day at work?" You teased, arching your back slightly to press your ass against him. No matter how many he sees in his line of work, Bucky is absolutely an ass man.

"Are you joking?" He groans, sounding frustrated. "I don't think I've ever had a worse day on set."

He's piqued your interest, that's for sure. By all accounts, he's usually very happy with his job but that's to be somewhat expected when you're one of the most popular male pornstars in the industry.

Your phone lies long forgotten on the marble countertop and you do your best to loosen his grip enough to allow you to turn to face him.

"What happened?" You don't even sound incredibly sure of yourself. He might not want to talk about it and if that's the case, you don't want to press him.

"I couldn't finish." His cheeks are burning pink like someone has slapped both of them; frustration and shame blazing under his skin. "I tried everything. Thank God I had a condom on so I could fake it."

Your heart rate speeds up because you don't have a clue how to fix this. How do you make him feel better? What could you say that won't make him feel worse?

It's fine, it happens to everyone! Perhaps not.

I'm so sorry you couldn't finish for some other woman. Nope, not awfully sincere.

Maybe you're just getting to that age? No, definitely not.

"Well, what did you try? You've never had that problem when we're together." Your fingers drift through his dark hair and you can smell the fragrance of his shampoo so strongly, you know he's had a shower before he came over. He always does. It's just nice to be reminded though.

"Everything I usually do. I tried talking dirty, I tried changing positions. Nothing worked for me. She was a lovely woman, don't get me wrong." He's never sounded less sure of himself and it's actually a little heartbreaking. "I think you've broken me."

You can't help but laugh. You've broken him. As if he doesn't consistently leave your legs shaking. As if he didn't introduce you to pleasure that even your favourite vibrators can't compare to.

"It's true! I swear. The only time I even got close was when I closed my eyes and thought of you. But Jesus, that felt so wrong. I couldn't do that." He didn't think he'd admit that to you but in the moment, it was hard to keep it in.

That's a compliment though, right? It's a little weird but he meant well.

You didn't expect any of this when he walked through the door and you feel yourself racing to keep up, trying to find something to say to fill the silence.

"Nothing feels as good as you do." Thankfully he's still functioning, pent up frustration simmering over and his lips make their way back to your neck. "Nothing fucking compares to you." His hands slip under the hem of your thin top and you don't make any attempt to stop them.

Heat blossoms low in your tummy, creeping its way into your chest while the praise keeps coming.

"No one moans as pretty as you do. No one touches me like you do. No one makes me as filthy-minded as you do." He punctuates his sentences with squeezes to your breasts and bites to your skin and the combination is magical.

"Oh yeah? Are you sure? Because I'm going to be really disappointed if you can't cum for me either." You're only teasing him and he knows it but with his injured pride, he's already far too keen to prove himself.

"We both know I don't have that problem with you, honey. Hell, if anything, I struggle to last." He's inflating your ego and you're not sure if he knows it.

You don't really know which of you are more keen as you begin your ascent to your bedroom, trying to shed your clothes on the way. It's a relief to see the smile on his face and for a second, you just have to stop in the hallway to kiss him because he's too damn cute.

Neither of you have it in you to wait. With the state you're in, any more foreplay might just leave you trembling and despite the fact he likes to be courteous, he doesn't have the patience to drag this out either.

You lay on your back on the bed, watching him kiss up the insides of your thighs while stroking his own erection and you struggle to remember a time you felt this overwhelmed with excitement. Eventually, you feel his hot breath on your slick cunt but for once, he doesn't dwell there too long. There's a desperation to the way he's stroking himself now and you entirely understand, despite how mesmerising it is to watch him touch himself.

"Fuck, look at you." He moans, his thumb pressed to the top side of his length while he slides himself against your wet folds. "You're so perfect. All over." He grants himself a couple more indulgent, slow glides over your sex before he cups your face in one hand.

The blunt tip of his dick presses against your entrance, sliding into your body and you resist the urge to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling in favour of keeping your eyes fixed on his, drinking in how his expression reflects the pleasure he feels.

It's not hard to tell that the very first stroke has you both feeling the same. It's more than just feeling full, in a way it's almost closer to feeling complete.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have to touch yourself." His cheeks are just as flushed as they were when he came in earlier but now he's embarrassed for entirely the opposite reason.

"You've barely started, don't tell me you're going to cum already." You can't help but laugh, taking his advice regardless. Your fingers are well versed in self pleasure, your hand slipping down between your bodies until you're able to rub your own clit in tight circles.

"I can't help it." His voice comes out closer to an elated giggle than you expected. "You've ruined me. Fuck, I'm yours."

The fingers of your free hand curl in the short hair above the back of his neck while he continues to fuck himself stupid into you. He's hardly even thinking now, letting each little confession tumble from his lips before he can even think about them.

"You've broken me. God, you feel so fucking perfect. You own me. Your cunt owns me. Holy shit." He sounds wrecked, clearly already trying to hold off his orgasm while you chase yours and you're beyond thankful it's not too far away. How could it be with confessions like that?

You feel your body fluttering around his cock, euphoria washing over you in waves that you couldn't surface from if you tried. It's an all consuming, frantic kind of pleasure. Each thrust from your partner only drags you in deeper and it's truly heavenly.

"Cum for me, Buck." You don't have to encourage him too many times. He's more than happy to give in, his arms shaking, proudly finishing inside you with a groan so beautiful that it makes you wonder if you could cum again.

He's entirely spent, for now anyway. You hear him chuckle, relief making him giddy because so long as he's still able to cum for you, you haven't completely broken him.

"Well." You smile, kissing his head before getting up to head to the bathroom. "At least I know you didn't fake that."

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

In Case I Do Something Stupid

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV and Dean POV

Summary:  Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree while maintaining a long distance relationship with Dean Winchester. This is part three of my "Before You Go" series (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Age Difference, (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's), Established Relationship

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: There is some swearing (only a few times), implied reference of past sex (once or twice), Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

This fic includes song lyrics that are in italics and bold font.

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

***************************************************

Reader POV

"Did you get it?" Dean asks.

You're standing in front of your mailbox in the lobby of your apartment, cradling the phone between your shoulder and neck while you sort through your mail. There were a lot more bills than you were hoping for.

It had been a long day and all you really wanted was to go lie down, but you had a test in the morning, which meant that you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

It had been two months since the whole “Cooper” thing and despite Dean’s insistence for you to come over to the bunker if he ever showed his face, Cooper hadn’t appeared once.

Of course that meant that Suze was out of the apartment more to spend time with him, wherever it was he lived. Neither of you had spoken about the incident, not since the morning after when Dean was asleep and you snuck out to make coffee before he woke up and you ran into her. You remember the dark circles under her eyes and  the way her face was red and puffy from crying. You hadn’t known what to say so you nodded a “good morning” and walked back into your bedroom with coffee for you and Dean.

Dean was trying to convince you to move out, but the rent was so cheap you didn’t think you’d be able to find anything better. But with the summer approaching quickly, that meant you could spend more time at the bunker with Dean.

An elderly woman breezes through the main lobby of the apartment building, wearing a bright purple tracksuit. "Hi y/n."

"Hi Mrs. Travis." You respond, holding off from answering Dean.

"Where's your special friend?" She smiles widely at you.

The last time Dean had visited, Mrs. Travis asked him to come help her unclog her drain. You and Mrs. Travis sat at her kitchen table together watching Dean work under the sink while eating mass quantities of chocolate chip cookies. You'd been over to see her a few times since, and each time she told you that Dean reminded her of her husband and would ask when he was coming back.

"He's at home this week."

"What a shame. Tell him to come back anytime. I'll make some of those cookies for him again." She smiles before continuing on to the elevator.

"Who was that?"

"Your wife." You snort into the phone.

"Oh she's the best. Those cookies were so good." Dean moans. "Can you please bring some of those when you come this weekend?"

"I'll see what I can do." You sift through the mail in your hand. There's a collection of bills and a large green make-shift envelope that has been duct taped together with thick silver tape to cradle the contents.

"But did you get it?" Dean asks again.

"By it do you mean a creepy duct taped envelope? Because yes I did." You hold it by the corner turning it over to see Dean's untidy scrawl in black sharpie over the front of it.

This looks like a kindergartener made it. You imagine Dean sitting at his desk in the bunker with a pair of scissors, his tongue between his teeth in concentration and smile to yourself.

"Okay good." Dean sounds relieved.

"I could have just picked whatever this is up this weekend."

"You're telling me that you don't like getting mail?"

"I like getting mail, but this looks like a ransom note. Is someone holding you hostage? Because if that’s happening I don’t have any money and I'm sure you'll be fine." You smile, trying to find a way to open it, but the duct tape was thwarting you.

"No it’s not a ransom note." Dean pauses on the other side of the line. "Wait, you wouldn’t pay money for me?" 

"I mean. Maybe?" You shrug as if he could see you, smiling wide at the envelope.

"That’s reassuring."

"Alright so you’re saying that if I was being held for ransom, you’d give them Baby for me?"

Dean doesn't answer. You can hear him mulling it over in his head, but you already know the answer to that question. You knew that Baby always comes first.

“That’s a long pause Dean.”

"I’m sure the connection is bad. Because I did answer-" Dean begins to say.

"How is the connection bad?" You interrupt, raising an eyebrow.

He tries again. "I’m driving through a tunnel?" It comes out like a question and you can’t help but laugh at his attempts to cover his mistake.

"I thought you said you were back at the bunker."

"Well, then the reception here sucks." He finishes and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You sigh to yourself. The last time you'd seen Dean was only a week ago, but it wasn't enough. Long distance was hard, but you felt that you both were giving it your all. Not to mention that this weekend you were coming to see him at the bunker, and it was a long weekend, which meant you both didn't have to rush.

"Uh-huh. Sure. If I get kidnapped I’m just gonna call Sam.”

"We are definitely off topic.” Dean sighs. “But you did get it?”

“Yes Dean I did. Whatever it is." You trace a finger over the silver taped edge. "Is this construction paper? Dean, you are a grown man, why do you have construction paper?”

“There’s a lot of old shit in this bunker.”

“For your birthday I’m getting you envelopes.”

"Sexy."

You roll your eyes, but finally break through the paper and pull out a bright yellow and black contraption. “You bought me a Walkman?”

Dean had previously bought you a cassette tape player that was on your desk in your apartment so you could listen to the mixtapes he made. Dean often made you mixtapes of his favorite songs, most of which you knew given you had almost the same taste in music, but each time you listened to one of his tapes it was like he was there in the room with you. It made the distance between you less when you missed him.

"Where did you even get a Walkman?" You ask.

"I told you there's a lot of old shit in this bunker." He laughs. "But this way you can listen to the mixtapes when you go to class or when you're at the library.” He says it nonchalant, but there's an edge to his voice that you don't understand.

I wonder if he's worried about something.

The thought makes you worry about him. Dean worried about a lot of things, but he usually kept it to himself. You figured it was because of his dad. You didn’t know too much about Dean’s father, only that he was dead and that he put a lot of responsibility and pressure on Dean’s shoulders when it came to Sam and the job he did, which forced Dean to be more guarded and unable to admit when he needed help. You of course, were very good at reading him and whenever Dean was worried, you made it a point to have him talk to you about it, even if you didn't have a suggestion. You wanted him to be comfortable letting his walls down. You needed him to know that you were there for him and that he didn’t need to carry the burden alone no matter how heavy it was.

You examine the Walkman, running your thumb against each black button that line along the top and against the smooth plastic edges. “That was very thoughtful. Thanks Dean.”

“You’re welcome.” He pauses. “I-uh- also included a new tape.”

“Oh cool. I can't wait to listen to it. I loved the last one."  You pop out the cassette and look at the label.

Dean always came up with ridiculous  names that made you laugh, names like "Psyched to See You Mix Vol 1," and "It's a Good Day to Call Dean."

This one was called "In Case I Do Something Stupid." "I love the name. Does it mean that this is just a pre-recorded blanket apology if you're not careful on a hunt-"

"No it's not."

"Uh-huh." You put the tape back into the Walkman.

“But for this one, when you listen to it, can you call me? I really want to know what you think.” Dean continues.

“If it’s another 8 minute drum solo of Moby Dick-“

“It's not and it hurts me that you didn’t like it. But promise that you’ll call after you listen to it.”

“It wasn't bad. And will there be a test?” You tease him, confused that he's so adamant about you calling him after you listen. Whenever Dean gave you a mixtape he was excited to know what you thought, but was usually more nonchalant about it.

"No." Dean laughs, but it doesn't sound right. "I just want to know what you think."

"Well I can bring it with me when I come this weekend and we can listen to it together-"

"NO!" Dean exclaims. "I mean-um- you should listen to it now and call me." He recovers stumbling over his words.

"Okay." You draw it out confused as to why he is acting so weird. "I will take detailed notes over all of the songs and tell you how much I loved them."

“Okay.” Dean pauses again. “Um y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“I- I’m gonna be at the bunker for a few days researching so you can call me anytime-“ He says it quickly, not in the cool and collected way he usually spoke.

“Dean are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? You sound a little weird."

"I'm sure it's just the connection." Dean pauses again. "I-"

"Dean?"

“I miss you.” He says it hesitantly, and for a second you think that he was going to say something else.

“I miss you too. I promise I’ve just got the one test and then I’ll be there this weekend.”

"Okay."

"Okay."

You could feel the three little words hovering on the tip of your tongue, the three little words you would have gladly told him five months ago when you first started officially dating. You knew that you were in love with Dean, had been in love with him from the moment your eyes locked with his, but the problem was that you'd never said it to anyone else. Of course you'd never felt about anyone the way you felt about him. He was kind, caring, sexy, protective, and just the right amount of batshit crazy that always kept you guessing.

I miss him so much.

Dean hadn’t said it either. But you understood that he was a little slow when it came to stuff like that and it wasn’t that you thought he didn’t love you. Dean said it plenty of other ways. Not to mention you figured he probably also hadn’t said it to anyone before and might be afraid to admit it aloud.

"I'll see you this weekend okay?" You sigh into the phone while wishing that Dean was there to hold you.

"Can't wait. Bye Sweetheart."

"Bye Dean."

****************************

Three days pass and you still haven’t listened to the tape. Honestly you forgot about it,  too wrapped up in studying for the test and preparing a lab report that took twelve hours to finish, all the while your lab partner, Tim, was frantically proofreading over your shoulder so you could turn it in by the deadline.

It was Thursday night, one day from seeing Dean, and you were sitting in the library for your overnight shift. You reach into your backpack for your notebook, but when you pull it out, the headphones from the Walkman are tangled in the spiral of the notebook.

Oh no. You think to yourself. You couldn't believe that you forgot about the tape and you wonder if that's why Dean hadn't texted or called the past few days, because he was waiting for you to call him to tell him what you thought.

You carefully untangle the headphones from the notebook, before raising your head to look around the library. It was midnight, which meant that the only people in the library were you and the guy in the corner slumped over a stack of textbooks half asleep. His loud snores echoed through the empty room, something else that reminded you of Dean. He didn't believe that he snored, until you recorded it on your phone and played it back to him. But, you didn’t hate that he snored. Sometimes you hated how quiet it was in your bedroom when he wasn't there sleeping beside you, that was usually when you called him just to hear his voice through the phone and closed your eyes to imagine he was there.

Dean never cared what time it was when you called him, in fact, Dean liked it when you called him on your overnight shifts and when you were walking back to your apartment. He liked to make sure that nothing happened to you.

You didn't think that the sleeping man in the corner would need any help anytime soon, so you slip the headphones over your ears and hit play. But when the first song starts, you're confused.

The first song is one of your favorites, "I'll Have to Say I Love You In A Song,"  by Jim Croce. A singer that you liked to listen to when you winded down at the end of the day and also a singer that was not Dean's favorite. He often teased you about it. For Dean to include the song on the tape was unusual, but you figured that it was because he knew you loved it.

"Well I know it's kinda late,

I hope I didn't wake you,

But what I've gotta say can't wait,

I know you'd understand,

'Cause every time I tried to tell you,

The words just came out wrong,

So I'll have to say I love you in a song…"

You hum along to the music while tapping your foot along to the melody as you reach back into your bag to pull out your textbook and pencil case for your highlighters and note tabs.

The second song starts as you turn back to your textbook, finding the right chapter to begin studying. You had expected the next song to also be a Jim Croce song or another song that you liked given the name of the mixtape. You assumed that "In Case I Do Something Stupid" meant that the tape would be filled with songs you loved to make you feel better if Dean pissed you off, but the next song is not one you know. You can tell it's Kansas, one of Dean's favorite bands, and one that you didn't often listen to before you met him.

"…Stand beside me

I will never let you fall

Stand beside me

I'll come whenever you call…"

You smile to yourself at the lyrics, it makes you think about how dependable Dean is. How he's willing to drop anything and show up whenever you need him. The melancholy tone of the song makes you miss him even more.

The smell of coffee wafts from the 24/7 coffee shop in the lobby, drawing you up from your seat to answer the siren call. When you get back with a iced coffee, you place the headphones over your ears once more and hit play.

The next two songs you recognize, both Journey songs, "Open Arms" and "Faithfully." You’d heard "Open Arms" before, but you'd never taken the time to listen to the lyrics:

"So here I am

With open arms

Hoping you'll see

What your love means to me

Open Arms…"

When "Faithfully" follows, you can't help but feel a nagging sensation in the back of you mind when you listen to the lyrics of the soft ballad like you're missing something:

"…Lost without you

And being apart ain't

easy on this love affair…

Oh, girl, you stand by me

I'm forever yours

Faithfully…"

You highlight another definition in your textbook while chewing on the inside of your cheek. You did like Journey.

Maybe Dean just wanted to include songs that I liked after the whole 8-minute Moby Dick drum solo fiasco.

When the next song comes on you can tell that it's a Led Zeppelin song, given the familiar tone of the lead singer. You continue to listen, focusing on the chorus:

"Oh, all of my love, all of my love to you, now

All of my love, oh yes,

All of my love to you…"

You sit there for a second in the brief silence that follows the song, before you shrug. Dean always included a Led Zeppelin song in his mixtapes because he wanted to continue your education of music with one of his favorite bands.

The next song begins and you immediately know what it is, "Feel Like Makin' Love" by Bad Company. Dean had included the song in a previous mixtape, not to mention you had heard it before on a tape he played when the two of you were together in his room at the bunker. Your cheeks blush as you remember what you were doing when it played. He had plenty of mixtapes that were devoted to THAT particular subject.

But this time you really sit and listen to the words of the song, highlighter poised high over the page:

"Darling, I don't live without you

And your love…

Darling, if I live without you,

I live without love…"

It makes you think of Dean again. You sigh to yourself wishing that it was already time to go back to see him.

There are actually some nice lyrics in this song. You think making a note in the margins of the textbook perched on your knee. You look back up to survey the empty room. The only patron is still in the corner snoring away.

You sit back in your chair, textbook forgotten and pause the tape. You couldn't help but notice that all the songs had a particular theme and you couldn't understand why.

When you hit play the next two are Van Halen, one of your favorite bands, and you immediately recognize both songs. The quick pace of "So This is Love" washes over you, making your heartbeat spike with the beat of the drums.

"Yes, she knows she's mine

And ain't letting go

So this is love?

Ooh I need you love,

Baby, got to have your love…"

Your breath catches in your chest as "When It's Love" starts to play and the smooth sound of the piano tickles against your skin.

"When it's love

Ooh, when it's love

Hey it'll last forever

When it's love

You and I

We're going to feel this thing together…"

And before you can think about the words the next song follows, "Is This Love?" by Whitesnake.

"I feel my love for you growing stronger

Day by day

And I can't wait to see you again

So I can hold you in my arms

Is this love that I'm feeling?

Is this love or am I dreaming?

This must be love

'Cause it's really got a hold on me…"

The next song that follows is Styx, "Babe" and you had heard it on a previous playlist Styx tape that Dean loaned you when he found out that you'd never heard anything by the band before. But this time the song catches you off guard.

"'Cause I'll be lonely without you

And I'll need your love to see me through

But please believe me, my heart is in your hands

'Cause I'll be missing you

Babe, I love you…"

You sit there in the silence that follows "Babe," unable to stop the rapid beat of your heart recognizing the familiar theme with all of the other songs on the mixtape and unable to stop focusing on the words of the song. You take a sip of your iced coffee, tapping your highlighter against your textbook while trying to gather your thoughts. But you couldn't focus on anything on the page. Your thoughts turn to the funny name that Dean decided to call the mixtape.

It's just a coincidence. Dean made another mixtape with songs that he wanted to share with me-

And then the Jim Croce song, "I'll Have to Say I Love You In a Song," comes back on. And you understand. It was exactly what Dean was doing. He was saying "I love you" the only way he knew how.

You look at the label of the cassette again, running your thumb over the writing. You thought that the "In Case I Do Something Stupid" title Dean wrote, meant listen to the tape whenever he pissed you off for being careless on a hunt, but you realize the title referred to if Dean hurt you, if he broke your heart somehow along the way, the tape was a reminder and a confession of his love. A reminder that he wasn't going to give you up, and that he was going to fix it the best way he could.

*****************************************

Dean POV

He tapped his pen anxiously against the ancient text as he laid across his bed, glancing every few seconds at the dark phone on his left.

You still hadn’t called.

It’d been three days since you said you’d listen to the mixtape, three days of absolute agony. Dean sighed looking back at the text but he couldn’t focus on any of the words.

What if she listened to it and didn’t love me? What if that’s why she wasn’t calling? He thought to himself, frown deepening.

He’d thought about saying it to you a million times, almost said it on the phone three days ago, but he was afraid. Dean didn’t like admitting that, but it was true. His fear that you would reject his declaration of love kept him from whispering the three little words that he’d wanted to say from the moment you’d met and patched him up two years ago. He'd never said it before, but he'd never wanted to say it to anyone before he met you.

He glances back at his phone hopefully as the screen illuminates, but it's only a notification from his email. It was past six am, but every time Dean tried to go to sleep all he could think about was you, you and the fact that you hadn't called or texted.  Dean taps the pen on the book again, as his heart continues to sink.

Why is this so hard? Why can’t I just say it to her? I should call and tell her right now- Dean picks up his phone, but then puts it down.

Because what if you had listened to the tape and this was your way of avoiding him. What if you’d never call him back and that was it? What if this was your way of saying that you didn't love him and you didn't know how to get around the awkwardness of calling to tell him that you didn't?

His heart seized in his chest to think that. His mind began to circle the drain again, thinking of all the things he said to you the night that you told him that you wanted him. He had been surprised of course. You were so different than him, so warm and full of life that it made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun whenever he was around you. He didn't realize that you'd wanted him as much as he wanted you, in fact, half the time Dean believed that he didn't deserve to be with someone like you, not after all the things he'd done.

Dean rolls over on his back to look up at the ceiling of his bedroom, tracing the cracks in the metal and the familiar patches of rust, hoping for sleep to give him some relief.

But he can't, all he can think about is you.

Dean remembers his younger years, his years of stringing women along and flirting with whatever caught his eye. But you made him better man and that's why he loved you. You knew him better than anyone else, saw his flaws, allowed him to be open and vulnerable for the first time. You didn't make him feel like less of a man when he expressed emotions and you allowed him to break. Dean couldn't wait to see you again, because when he was with you, he didn't feel the albatross hanging around his neck.

A loud, frantic knocking at his door stirs him from his thoughts.

"I'm not in the mood Sammy." Dean grumbles. He throws his muscular forearm over his eyes to shut out the light above and to staunch the flow of self-deprecating thoughts.

The knocking persists.

Dean sighs loudly, before standing from his bed and walking to the solid metal door, his hotdog pajama pants swishing against his ankles.

"I said I'm not-" Dean looks up where Sam's face usually would be, but sees nothing.

What?

Then he drops his gaze and he sees you. Your cheeks are flushed bright red, hair blown back away from your face in tangles, wearing Dean's favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug you so tight that it makes him have a hard time focusing. Your smile breaks something in his chest, spreading warmth and comfort through his body like a wildfire.

Dean can't remember the last time he felt comfort before he met you. When you were with him it felt like home, something that he was missing for so long in his life.

"Hey Sweetheart, what are you doing he-" He barely gets the words out before you throw yourself at him. Dean stumbles back with the force of your tackle as your lips find his, arms wrapping around the back of his neck to grip his bare shoulders and pull his face further down to yours.

Dean falls backward on the bed with you on top of him, the thick volume pressing into his back painfully, but he doesn't feel it all he's aware of is you. How your body feels on top of his, how your lips move together as one, and the soft sounds you make into his mouth when he deepens the kiss and drags his hands down to your hips.

You pull back out of breath, lips bright pink. "I listened to it. I'm so sorry it took me so long."

"You did?" Dean's hands are comfortably seated on top of your hips, squeezing just enough that he knows you're here, you're real, and he didn't fall asleep.

"Yeah, and I didn't want to say this on the phone." Your eyes are bright. "I love you too Dean."

Dean's heart skips a beat, an uncontrollable smile shining from his face with your confession. He can't remember a single solitary moment in which he'd felt so much love, comfort, and happiness surging beneath his skin.

"You do?" He didn't mean to ask it, but the little voice was back spreading doubt.

"Of course I do. It's impossible not to." You lean down to kiss him again, your fingertips flitting over his muscular torso in a way that makes pins and needles trace in their wake. "But I'd like to hear you say it." Your forehead presses against his, hair tickling his cheeks.

"I love you y/n." Dean whispers. He watches the way your blush swells over your cheeks, smile widening with his words. And all he wants is to make you smile like that for the rest of his life, to bask in your glow because you are the sun.

Dean secures his hand at the back of your head and draws you down to him, losing himself in the warmth of your love and the soft promise of what tomorrow would bring.

**********************************************

Thank You For Reading!

If you'd like to be added to my tag list for this series let me know :)

Taglist: @daisy-the-quake @brightlilith @roseblue373 @sunnyhummingbee

[syd-djarin]

Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter one: the new neighbors

*18+ Minors DNI*

Word count: ~2000+

Warnings: FLUFF, nervous reader, a hint of masturbation (f & m), neighbor!joel needs a warning, eventual smut

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

Author/s Notes: this is my first fic, so ofc I had to write Joel, and I have a weakness for neighbor!Joel.

this will be a series and I'm so excited to share this :) this is super self-indulgent, making reader based off myself so shameless self-insert kinda? lol

a huge thank you & ily to my babe @katiexpunk for helping me make edits/bouncing ideas and encouraging me to dive into writing <3

Tags: no outbreak AU, neighbor!joel, reader is sweetie pie, age gap (reader is mid-late 20's, joel is late 30's-early 40's in this), dilf!joel, gratuitous descriptions of joel being strong & sexy, f & m masturbation, eventual smut, fluff

AUSTIN, TX  OCT 2005

You’ve lived in this neighborhood for the majority of your life, with the exception of your time in college.

Now that you’ve finished your undergrad, your parents, now retired and living in Maine, have graciously offered for you to stay in your childhood home. It wouldn’t be forever, you think, just until something comes through for you to use your degree on.

The neighborhood hasn’t changed that much through the years; some of the houses got renovations or additions, although many of the homes were the same that they have always been. Many of the people living in the cul-de-sac had known you since you were just a baby, and like to remind you of that more often than you’d like. 

Occasionally a home would go up for sale, and it just so happened that the house directly across the street from yours was one of them – a classic blue Ranch style home, well maintained, albeit a bit outdated, but full of potential. The previous owners lived there for nearly four decades, and the entire neighborhood is antsy to solve the mystery of who’ll move in next.  

You had assumed that the next tenants would be another nuclear family type – the stereotypical, American family - husband, wife, two kids, the works. Much to your surprise, a single father and his daughter were the succeeding residents of the house. A ruggedly handsome single father, at that. 

+++

Move in day came for your new neighbors and just like everyone else who resided here, you couldn’t help but to be nosy, curiosity getting the best of you. 

You discreetly parted your living room blinds, your curiosity at its peak, as your new neighbors began unloading the hefty boxes from their U-Haul and settling into their new abode. You even went to check the mail to get a closer peek, despite having already checked it earlier in the day when it arrived.

You couldn’t help but ogle at the broad-shouldered man lifting boxes as if they weigh nothing. His dark gray t-shirt clings to his biceps for dear life and you feel your pussy involuntarily throb every time he lifts up the bottom of it, bringing it to his forehead to wipe the sweat collecting there, each time revealing his soft tummy and the dark hair that trailed down from his belly button. 

You imagine yourself holding onto those brawny arms, while he pounds- 

Oh my god, get a grip, you internally chastise yourself. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid, defending yourself for conjuring up dirty fantasies of a man whose name you didn’t even know. 

You decided you’d go introduce yourself once it appeared that they’d finished unloading the moving truck, not wanting to disrupt or cause an intrusion. 

Baking being one of your love languages, you decide to make your new neighbors your grandma's famous cookies – snickerdoodles and chocolate chip. The recipes don’t call for much, but your grandma swears it’s the love that goes into them that makes them as good as they are. She had taught you to bake at a young age; ensuring you knew the fundamentals, techniques, and the importance of quality ingredients.  She also taught you that the best gift you could give is a dessert, one that requires your time and attention. 

Besides wanting to be a welcoming neighbor, baking provides you with a necessary distraction to your nefarious thoughts about the new neighborhood DILF. Were these cookies for him, sure, but it proved to be quite a successful deterrent from your naughty thoughts, allowing you the space to fully engross yourself in the task of making the dough, folding in the chocolate chips, rolling the batches into little balls, and spacing them out evenly on the tray before popping them in the oven. 

After a couple of hours, the cookies now cool, and the warm autumn sun begins to set. Your home smells of warm sugar, a nostalgia that brings a smile to your face. You peek out the window and notice the moving truck is now gone, and figure now was as good a time as any to introduce yourself. 

You neatly package the goodies into their designated container, draw on your oversized flannel and shoes, and begin your brief trek across the street. As you begin walking down your porch steps you’re hit with a wave of nervousness,  your stomach does backflips and your heart beats faster. Get it together. You take several deep breaths and hold onto the cookie container a little tighter before continuing on your mission. Why are you such a nervous wreck? I mean, it’s just some guy, you (unsuccessfully) try to reason with yourself. 

Reaching the front door, you knock– tap, tap, tap. A brief moment passes, and the door opens, leaving only the space of the doorframe between you and a young girl with wide, curious eyes and beautiful curly brown hair staring back at you.

“Hi there, I’m your neighbor across the street,” you say, gesturing towards your own home, “I wanted to introduce myself – I brought you some cookies, just a little something to say welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Cookies! Ah sweet, I love cookies - what kind?” she asks, not at all trying to hide her fairly obvious interest for them and less in you.

“There’s chocolate chip and a few snickerdoodles,” you reply, giving her an amused smile. 

Her father, the devastatingly handsome one, makes his way up behind her and stands in the doorframe, halfway inside and halfway onto the porch where you stand. He was a sight to behold up close: dark hair that had a loose curls and a beard, both lightly dusted with some grays, chocolate brown eyes you could drown in, a mustache that perched atop plush lips. 

He’s muscled in the shoulders and arms, which act as a nice compliment to his soft torso. He had the kind of  physique that came from hard labor, which only fuels your attraction to him more. 

If this were a cartoon, you were sure your eyes would be bulging out of their sockets in the shape of hearts. 

“Oh, uh–hi,” you say, perhaps an octave too loud. “I was telling your daughter here that I brought over some cookies, you know, as a welcome gift,” you pause, realizing you hadn’t even introduced yourself. “I’m your neighbor, I live just across the way,” you say, nodding to your house. You turn back to face him and fidget with your hair. Through a nervy smile, you manage to give him your name. 

“I’m Joel, this here’s Sarah,” he says, voice gruff and smooth at the same time. He holds out his hand to shake yours. You hope he wouldn’t notice how sweaty your hand is; maybe it’s the nerves, or the still-sticky Texan air, despite it being October. Probably both.  

His palm is warm; worn and calloused in some places, but firm and inviting. You couldn’t help but gawk at how small he made your hand feel in his. He releases your grip; bringing you out of your brief trance, and your eyes once again meet. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Joel and Sarah,” you smile and hold out the container of cookies for Joel to take. Before he can even reach up to grab them, Sarah already has her hands on them and has run back into the house, murmuring something that sounds like thanks as she does. 

He had just met you, but Joel couldn’t deny how much he likes hearing you saying his name in your gentle, nectarous voice. 

Your hands now empty, you nervously interlace your fingers and twirl your thumbs, unsure of what to say next. Joel’s eyes take note of the smudge of flour on your cheek – cute. He also notices the flour in the cleft of your cleavage, but he tries not to make that fact obvious. The flour between your breasts stares back at him, but he collects his composure, averting his gaze back to you.  He should point it out to you, he thinks, but you seem shy and he doesn’t want to embarrass you, or scare you away from wanting to come over again. 

“‘Preciate the cookies, sweetheart,” he says, voice low. His eyes stay glued to your face. You avert your eyes downwards and cross your arms, buckling under the weight of his gaze. You felt your cheeks and chest grow hot at his use of sweetheart. 

“I’m just – uh,” you trip over your words, nervous, “I’m just across the street if you need me,” you offer, giggling at the suggestive way that sounds, “you know, like a cup of sugar or anything like that,” you add.

Joel nods in reply, edges of his mouth coming up in a smirk as if to acknowledge your kindness, being careful not to full on grin in amusement of his apparent effect on you. 

“Same to you,” he says before closing the door, perhaps eyeing you a moment too long as you walk away. He turns to enter the house, only to find Sarah staring at him, cookie in hand, and a knowing grin on her face.

“Why didn’t you tell her she had flour all over herself?” she asks, teasing, like she could already tell he was embarrassed to admit the truth. 

“Did she? Hmm, didn’t seem to notice,” he says, trying to hide the lie behind a weak cough, before walking away, cheeks obviously flushed. 

Back in the safety of your own home, you come to a still with your hand pressing on the door, reeling from your interaction with Joel. You were wired up, buzzing with arousal and nerves. 

And God, the way he called you sweetheart. 

You replay the moment over and over in your head, not wanting to forget his Texan twang or the way he looked at you when he said it. You could have died, right then and there. You let your mind run wild, thinking of all the things you wanted to do with him, what you wanted to do to him. 

Needing to relieve the throbbing ache in between your legs, you decide a shower is in order. When stepping into your bathroom, you catch yourself in the mirror. You were mortified at the discovery of the flour on your face and chest. You had been so engrossed with baking the cookies and too anxious about taking them over to Joel’s that you failed to give yourself a once-over in the mirror before heading out the door. The arousal you felt temporarily held precedent, you’d process your embarrassment later. 

You step into the steamy shower and touch yourself, thinking of Joel. You shove two fingers inside your pussy, imagining they were Joel’s long, thick, dexterous fingers. 

Little did you know Joel was having his own feelings about your little introduction. 

Several of his new neighbors come to introduce themselves in the coming days, under the guise of welcoming him and his daughter, but in reality, they wanted to get scoop on who they were. Where had they moved from, what prompted the move, we’re they planning on staying short-term, what did he do for a living, was there a Mrs. Joel Miller? And once they found out he was a contractor, there were a whole other set of questions of “would you mind taking a look at my ____”. 

He liked the neighborhood, and while the people were nice and seemingly mean well, Joel begins to feel irritation at the consistently prying questions, annoyed that people felt like they were entitled answers to begin with. 

But you. 

He was not expecting you. 

Beautiful, endearing, kind eyes, a smile he thought could end wars. You had been sweet and respectful, and didn't appear to have ulterior motives. It made his heart palpitate and sent blood rushing somewhere he knew it shouldn’t. You were young, too young and sweet, too sweet for a man like him. 

Then he saw how you stared at his hands, grew warm and shy when his gaze had lingered too long on you. 

That night, with Sarah tucked into bed, he grabs one of the snickerdoodle cookies, Sarah insisting that he save all of the chocolate chip ones for her, but he doesn’t mind; snickerdoodles are his favorite. 

He bites into the soft cookie, his eyes fluttering shut as he does, an involuntary reaction to the sweet, perfectly soft texture. He lets out a moan, the kind that is elicited when tasting something delicious. 

And the fact that you made them? The thought sends blood straight to his dick. 

Joel, in inner turmoil, was trying to resist the temptation to touch himself to the thought of you. God, if your cookies were this good, so sweet and fluffy, how good would you taste. 

The thought consumes him, the temptation too strong. 

He polishes off more than three of the cookies, before heading to shower. That night he takes his cock in his fist to the thought of you, and your stupidly delicious fucking cookies. 

Joel was a gentleman, sure, but he was also a man. 

And the best way to get to a man’s heart? 

Through his stomach. 

THE END

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: neteyam x olo'eyktan metkayina male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: There's a bit of time before your ceremony—you take advantage of it.

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1370 ~ neteyam & reader are in their late 20's

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: i have to write one of these sometime

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There was a buffer of time before the ceremony—your ceremony. You didn't exactly know what caused it, be it the current Tsahìk still getting prepared, or the Tsakarem or current Olo'eyktan, or perhaps even the venue. And if it was the reason, you thought it rather peculiar, because your family weren't ones to take long in little things such as preparation.

Whatever the case, you took advantage of it.

Neteyam took you in. He gazed upon your bare skin, lacking all jewelry and ornaments, even your Iknimaya band, knife and sheath. Though the sight was one to behold, a small panic settled in. "Should you not be getting prepared?" He rushed over.

You only chuckle at his concern, "If it worries you so, we can go back to my preparation pod. However, I must take the moment to speak with you."

"Why is that?" He takes the offer silently, leading you along back to your pod.

"There's a lot in my mind. It runs like those dire horses you tell me about." You give a small laugh, "And..."

"And?" He asks impatiently.

Though you had sought him out, you don't quite have the courage to tell him what you wanted to. "...my family isn't ready yet. That's what I think, anyway."

He huffs, "Surely it won't be long."

"However much time it takes, I'll spend it with you."

It was a simple sentiment, but nice either way. Spending time with your best friend, right before the biggest ceremony of your life—maybe second to your mate ceremony, where you showed off your beloved that you would spend your every moment with; it was something that usually happened before the Olo'eyktan crowning, but you hadn't found the one yet.

Once you settle down, relaxed atop the only chair in your pod, Neteyam can't help but worry. You were the one to become Olo'eyktan, yet you remained calm. He, on the other hand, paces anxiously.

"Are you worried?"

Instead of answering, he stops before you and asks, "Why are you bare?" You were practically naked, stripped from your usual ornaments and garments. It was a sight to drink in, but he had to find an excuse for his staring.

"My loved ones must paint my skin before the ceremony. They all learned a different technique to the painting. Their marks will signify their shared love for me."

He nods, slowly, "Your family?"

You give half a shrug that doesn't quite answer his question, "My family, sure."

"Okay, well, yes, I'm worried." Neteyam takes a deep breath, revisiting the breathing techniques you'd taught him years ago, the very ones he didn't have to think about doing anymore. Right now, they slip from his mind. "Of course I am, you're about to become Olo'eyktan."

"I am."

"And you're going to—how are you so calm right now?" His hands remain stiff in his hair, mid run through.

"It's what I've been trained for all my life." You say simply, "I knew this day would come and I'm, well, prepared for it."

He lets out a small laugh. "I was to be Olo'eyktan once." He thinks it ironic. "I was trained for it too. My people looked up to me. That pressure weighed heavy on my shoulders. How does it evade yours?"

"In truth, I don't know, Neteyam." You beckon him to sit next to you. Mindlessly, he does. "Perhaps it is that I have more, we'll say, nerve-wracking things on my mind right now."

Right. You had told him that your mind was running like a dire horse, though the word should be galloping. "Like what?"

You can't really say it. As you stare into his pretty eyes, the small cluster of algae that was your courage shrunk like it was drying.

Neteyam fills in your silence with his own words. "What could possibly be more nerve-wracking than becoming Olo'eyktan? Won't it be hard to live up to your father's name, his legacy? Being the leader of the archipelago and its many islands, all under the Metkayina tribe?" He shakes his head, thinking of many more things. "More nerve-wracking than–?"

"You're beautiful."

It was a passing thought, one that popped up in your head as you watched him speak. You didn't mean to blurt it out at all, only realizing after he points it out with his shock.

His lips press into a thin line, that expression of his you'd come to be familiar with. For a moment you think only bad could come of it, but instead he looks away, his expression turning bashful. "I should be the one saying that." He mumbles, his mouth opening far too little.

Your heart flutters. You scoot a little closer, bringing a hand to his cheek so that you may turn his once attentive gaze towards you once more. "Why is that?"

"Well, it's your day." Though you had turned his head towards you, his eyes still avoid your face. "Your ceremony, your new title, your new tattoos, your new songcord bead."

He closes his eyes, shaking his head with his words, "What even is there to call beautiful about me?"

"I don't know."

He rolls his eyes, but does not roll his head with them, too fearful of losing your touch.

"Sorry, I mean," You snicker, looking away to gather your thoughts. Neteyam takes the opportunity to stare at you. You're beautiful this way, beautiful any way, beautiful all ways. "If I had to choose one thing..."

You turn back to him, suddenly, and he doesn't tear his eyes away. "Everything."

"That isn't one thing." Because he can't tear his eyes away.

"Then I choose all of it." Neteyam brings a hand to hold onto yours. "Your smile, your hair, your eyes, your laughter; your immense need to care. All of you that I see."

The way his face lights up, it's gradual, piece by piece, but it doesn't take long. It starts at his ears perking up, then his smile widening, his cheeks raising with his lips, and his eyes creasing at the corners. His smile doesn't grow into a grin, however, and it doesn't take long for the entirety of his face to turn sheepish. He buries his head into his hands and laughs a small little laugh. His legs, both, kick restlessly.

He says something in English you don't quite know. Even in all your years together, he hadn't taught you the word. "I'm so fucking childish."

"What does that mean?" You ask, "Fu–?"

"Don't say that word." He warns, suddenly coming out his blue-skinned, handmade shell. "It's not exactly a good one."

"Okay."

"Is what you mean–" He shakes his head at himself, closing his eyes. How could he be so doubtful? He really wasn't sure of it, your feelings. He wanted to be sure. "That you... like me?"

"Yes," You bring both his hands in yours, "I... want you to be my mate."

"But I'm..." He stares down at his hands. Still dark blue. "and you're Olo–you're going to be Olo'eyktan."

You were always kind, always responsible, always aware of your future role. Because of this, your words were always premeditated. You couldn't tarnish your reputation in the clan. But right now, you don't see the need for it. "What do I care for it?"

Neteyam laughs at your brashness.

"Nga yawne lu oer. That is all that I care for. Though, for many years, I battled with that." You admit, "It is why I haven't told you of them, of my feelings for you. I should've told you much sooner."

"I'll say, your crowning day was probably not the best day," He declares with a laugh, "I should've told you as well."

"Well, we have only but the present."

He curses at how easy it is for you to be smooth. "Fu–" He smothers the curse against your neck, instead of into his hands again. He wraps his long arms around you, securing your larger body in his embrace. You return the hug much more gently.

"Will you accept my proposal? Be my mate? Because I'd like to invite you to paint me for the ceremony, and that is the job of a loved one."

Oh, for Eywa!

[joelmillersdumbslut]

I took your matches before fire could catch me (part four)

(joel miller x f!reader) 18+

masterlist

summary: After Joel Miller ghosts you for three weeks, you drive to his house to find answers. (no outbreak. no use of y/n)

rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact)

warnings (for this chapter): age gap (reader is in late 20's, joel is mid 50's), dirty talk, pet names, fingering, unprotected p in v sex, daddy kink, alcohol consumption, so much angst

word count: 3k

a/n: thank you again for all the love on my first series. i'm really nervous with how this chapter turned out, but i hope you still enjoy it ♡

ao3 link

Joel hasn’t answered any of your texts for three weeks.

You sit on the couch in your living room, wearing the last shirt he had given you. Inhaling the faint smell as best as you can. Anything to remember him. You’ve been spending your nights and days staring off into space. Wondering if maybe you were wrong. But, how can your emotions be wrong? How can your feelings be wrong?

Tonight, your eyes wander, finally settling on the bottle of wine he had gifted you. It’s unopened. Gradually collecting dust on the counter. You remember the way he smiled when you removed it from the crumpled paper bag.

Your chest feels heavy.

You grab your keys and head out the door.

—

You park across the street like you always do. You march up the porch steps with purpose, but pause once you raise your hand to knock on the door. You hear voices inside. Your heart sinks immediately. What if he’s moved on without you?

Fuck Joel.

You need answers.

Your fist bangs on the door. You keep whacking the surface with all your might, wondering if your knuckles will soon be pierced with splinters when suddenly the door is whipped open.

He’s standing there with a beer in hand. He seems annoyed at first, but his negative emotions are alleviated once he realizes it’s you.

“Babygirl,” Joel breathes softly, “What are you doin’ here?”

“What do you think I’m doing here?” you hiss. Crossing your arms and staring him down.

“Look, I can’t talk right now—“

“Joel, I need to talk to you. I have to talk to you. You just can’t leave me like that with no explanation,” your voice becomes shrill with emotion.

He looks exasperated, defeated. A voice emerges from behind him, “Joel, what’s goin’ on?”

A hand clapping on Joel’s back. For the first time since you’ve known him, you see fear in his eyes. Something you didn’t think was possible for Joel to experience. The figure pushes past Joel to acknowledge you.

“Hey the…. What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

Tommy’s lip curls into a snarl. His nostrils flare and you swear to God this man is seeing red. You want to rub your eyes, pinch your skin. You need to wake up from this fucking nightmare.

“Joel, is this some kinda sick joke? What’s she doin’ here?”

“What are you doing here?” you counter, your hands ball into fists and begin to shake at your sides.

“This is my fuckin’ brother’s house, I can be here as often as I’d like,” Tommy seethes, “Did you come back to ruin my life again?”

He pauses, turning to look at Joel, finally connecting the puzzle pieces together, “Or did you come here to ruin his?”

Tears are rolling down your cheeks as you glance over at Joel. He’s staring into his beer bottle. You want to shake him, scream in his face. But, you can’t. You’re frozen in place.

“Joel, you gonna take care of this trash or should I?” Tommy growls, his eyes fixated on you.

“If you touch her, I will rip you apart,” Joel doesn’t even look up from his beer bottle, “What y’all did happened long ago. You gotta get over it, Tommy.”

Tommy’s eyes are bulging out of his head, “You're jokin’, right, Joel? You’re not seriously bangin’ this—”

Joel is now standing in front of you, “You call her any names, I will end you. I mean it, Tommy.”

Joel’s younger brother pushes past you, nearly knocking you off your feet, but Joel is quick to steady you. Tommy silently fumes as he walks off the porch, heading to his vehicle parked in the driveway.

“Fuck you,” Tommy hollers as he opens the truck door, “Fuck both of you.”

Then, he peels out of Joel’s house, speeding down the street.

Joel takes a long sip of his beer. Your feet are glued to the porch. Not sure whether you should go inside or if you should leave. You look at Joel, hoping he can give you an answer.

“You happy now?” Joel huffs.

That certainly wasn’t the answer you were expecting.

You stare at him in disbelief, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Why the fuck would I be happy about this?”

“You seem to like fuckin’ everything up,” he retorts, tossing the bottle onto the porch. It rolls away from his feet. Hitting the steps and cracking into pieces.

“What did I fuck up exactly? Please. Enlighten me,” you can feel rage burning in your chest. Your throat is tight and it’s getting harder to breathe.

“What we had goin’. It was a good deal. Then you went and said what you said,” he waves his hand in the air. Like your confession, your feelings, your vulnerability mean nothing to him. “Then you come over here and piss off my brother. Probably never gonna talk to me again.”

“Then you should’ve never fucked around with me in the first place!” your voice is sharp and resentful. “You knew what you were getting into, Joel, don’t blame this on me. Don’t you dare. These are the consequences of your actions.”

“How is it the consequences of my actions?” he snaps.

“You were the one who was nice to me! You were the one who came running when I needed you, you were my shoulder to cry on. We even shared our lives with each other. You shouldn’t have done any of those things if you didn’t want me to love you,” you choke out the last words, your vision blurry from the tears welling up inside the corners of your eyes.

The two of you glare at each other. You step closer to Joel, feeling the heat radiating off his body. Even though you're so angry at him, you can’t help but stare at his muscles protruding through the fabric of his shirt. You think about the way you want those arms around you, holding you, protecting you. You think about how you want things to go back to the way they were just a few short weeks ago.

But, Joel’s right.

You went and fucked it all up.

Joel leans down and kisses you. Hard. You’re taken aback, but you kiss him back just as hard, your tongue entering his mouth and crashing into his. Joel’s hands are moving up and down your body, his touch is rough and careless. He pulls away from your embrace, taking you by the hand and leading you into the house.

—

“Is Sarah home?” you whisper as Joel’s hand clutches your wrist, guiding you through the dimly lit house.

“Do you ever shut up?” he quips.

Even though you stumble around in the darkness, you still remember how to get to his room. You practically know the layout of the house by heart now with how often you come over. After you stagger into the bedroom, Joel locks the door behind him. He’s gazing at you like a beast freed from its cage.

“Tell me what you want,” his voice is quiet, he closes the distance between the two of you.

“I want you to touch me,” you whisper. “I want you so much.”

He says nothing at first as he reaches out and cups one of your breasts, your hardening nipple rolling between his thumb and index finger. You stifle a moan, unbuttoning your jeans and kicking them off. Joel pushes you onto the bed, towering over you.

“You don’t love me,” he murmurs, nipping at your neck and collarbones. Purple splotches already forming underneath the surface of your skin.

“I do love you,” you whimper beneath him, “I don’t know why you’re too stubborn to see it.”

Joel yanks your underwear to the side, his thumb rubbing your clit in fast circles. But, then he pauses once he notices how wet you are already. His index finger slides up and down your slit, collecting slick on his fingertip before he dives into your entrance.

“What are you interested in an old man for anyway? Should be with a guy your age,” he gruffs, his finger thrusting in and out of you. Your body tenses up at the bliss emanating from your core.

“I don’t wanna be with a guy my age. I told you that on our first date,” your breath hitches, “I’ve always liked older men.”

“Lucky me.”

Joel adds another finger, his digits sinking into you, massaging that sweet spot deep inside your body. His rhythm is unstable and messy, but you can still feel your orgasm bubbling up to the surface. You missed this so much.

“Fuck, I’m—” you gasp, arching your back as the tension expands even faster throughout your body. You’re so close, your legs begin to shake, your head is dizzy.

“Call me by my name,” Joel growls.

“Fuck you,�� you pant, “I’m not calling you that anymore. Not if you don’t even like me.”

His fingers pull out of your pussy, leaving a sticky residue all over his hand. You throb and pulse, aching for more.

“Never said I didn’t like you,” Joel sits up. His expression is indignant as he stares at you.

You feel lightheaded, so many things running through your mind. So many things you want to say.

If you like me, why don’t you say it then?

Why do you act like you care about me one minute, then you act like you couldn’t give a fuck about me the next?

Why do you insist on punishing me?

Instead, the two of you remain silent for a long time. Until he speaks.

“Tell me one thing,” he mutters, “What did you think you were gonna get out of this?”

You sit with your knees pulled up to your chest. Even though it’s been a couple months since you met Joel, you never really put much thought into this. Your original intention of joining Lily was to find someone to start a relationship with. Instead, you have… this. A situationship where you’re all in, but he’s constantly hot and cold, non-committal, and giving off mixed signals.

What did you think you were gonna get out of this?

“I don’t know,” you whisper, “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you. I thought we would just keep fucking, doing our thing. But, then you were being nice to me. Like you cared about me. And I thought…”

“You thought what?” he seems… a little calmer now. Like he’s actually considering what you have to say this time.

“I thought I actually had a chance with you,” your bottom lip quivers. You’re on the verge of crying again. You turn away from him, the back of your hand rubbing the corner of your eye.

Joel sighs deeply. “Come here, babygirl,” he holds his arms out for you, “Hate seein’ you like this.”

“You sure didn’t give a fuck about me earlier,” you seethe. You’re not gonna fall for his fake niceties. Not again.

“How do you know?” Joel raises his voice, “Do you know how bad I wanted to punch Tommy for what he said ‘bout you? Because you don’t deserve that. And you sure as hell don’t deserve someone like me.”

You blink.

What does he mean by that?

“I want you, Joel. You’re all I want,” you hiccup, trying to hold in the tears. “I don’t care about what anyone has to say, especially your brother.”

He reaches out, taking your hand. “It’s gettin’ late. Why don’t you stay here?”

You say nothing. You get out of bed, picking up your shirt from the floor and pulling it on over your head. Your eyes are red and puffy. You cross your arms and sniffle, staring down at the floor.

“What are you so afraid of, Joel?”

“We ain’t talkin’ ‘bout this,” he growls.

“Why not?” you exclaim.

“I’m afraid it’ll end up like the last time. That you’ll leave me and I’ll be alone. I’m afraid this’ll all be for nothin’. There, you happy?” Joel’s nostrils flare.

You shake your head in confusion, sitting down on the bed next to him. Your hand caresses his cheek, your thumb slowly brushing through his scruff.

“Are you talking about Sarah’s mom?” you whisper.

“You need to go to bed,” Joel huffs, standing up from the bed and gesturing to your side. The side you always sleep on when you stay over. The side with extra pillows because Joel knows you can’t fall asleep unless you have a mountain of them.

He knows so much about you. Sometimes, he even seems to genuinely care about you. But, he’ll never admit it. Especially not to your face. And you’re beginning to realize that.

“I’ll go to bed,” you nod in defeat. You clamber to your spot on the mattress, pulling the covers up over your body.

Joel stands at the foot of the bed, readying to leave you. “Gonna go have another beer,” he murmurs.

But, you have to say something first.

“Wait,” you whimper.

He turns around, those brown eyes piercing your soul. The very same ones you fell in love with through his pictures on the dating app.

“I don’t know what happened. But, I’m not like her. That’s all I wanna say.”

He’s quiet for a moment, looking down at the floor. Then he walks to the bed and sits down next to you.

“I know, babygirl,” he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “That’s why I’m afraid.”

He kisses your forehead, shuts off the light, and heads downstairs.

—

You see yourself standing inside what appears to be a castle. You lift your hand, grazing your fingertips against the jagged limestone wall in front of you. You hear a voice calling your name. You turn to see Joel on the opposite end of the hallway. He’s beckoning you, gesturing for you to follow him. You begin to run, but the floor crumbles underneath you. You fall and fall and fall forever. The last thing you see before you disappear into the darkness is Joel smiling wickedly.

—

You wake up in a cold sweat. The clock on Joel’s bedside table reads 3:47 a.m. He’s sleeping rather soundly next to you, his arm covering your torso.

Your heart is still beating out of your chest, it feels like you’re still falling from the dream world. You stare up at the ceiling. Waiting to fall back asleep. But, you can’t.

The clock now reads 5:05 a.m.

You know one thing that will help you sleep.

You just don’t know if Joel will give it to you.

“Joel,” you whisper, moving so your forehead is touching his. “Joel, are you awake?”

He groans, his eyes not quite open yet, “What’s goin’ on?”

“I had a bad dream. I can’t sleep,” you whine.

“You need daddy’s help, don’t you?” Even with the streetlight shining faintly through the window of the dark bedroom, you swear you can see him grinning.

It’s been three weeks. You’re so hungry for him and he knows it. You decide to shove your dignity aside and give in.

“Yes, daddy,” you whimper, already squirming.

So much for trying to prove a point.

“Come here,” he holds out his arms and you inch even closer, accepting his embrace. The two of you lay there for several moments, just holding each other, breathing in sync.

Then Joel kisses your lips, his hand trailing down your body to your underwear. His fingers slip into the fabric, he sleepily fumbles for a moment before finding your clit. You let out a deep breath as he begins to rub your bundle of nerves, already sensitive, already begging for more. His movement is slow and meticulous. Then his hand moves lower, accumulating the arousal gathering between your thighs. Those long, thick fingers enter you, curling up inside you just right. You moan Joel’s name into his neck, holding him close to you.

“Gonna wake up the whole neighborhood,” he teases you in a low voice, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Just like that,” you hum, your hips grinding down harder on his fingers.

“Never seen you this horny,” he muses, pumping in and out of you faster, “Maybe we should have fights more often.”

You’re about to glare at him when your orgasm is suddenly front and center, pleasure spreading from your belly to your limbs, from your toes to your teeth.

“Joel, I’m gonna–”

“Cum for me, babygirl.”

You pant wildly and Joel continues to fuck you as you cum all over his fingers. You can feel the wetness flowing from your pussy, dripping into his palm. He slows down, planting kisses on your cheek.

“Such a good girl for me. Think you need another one,” Joel chuckles, throwing the blankets to the side of the bed. “Come here.”

He rips off his boxers and pulls you on top of him. The head of his cock is already shining, precum leaking out. All because of you.

Joel helps you get situated, his hands on your waist as you slide down his length. You let out a moan once he’s fully seated inside you.

“You missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you?” he groans, his hands drift down to your hips and he begins to rock you gently.

“Three weeks without you is too long,” you agree, obscene noises escaping your lips.

Joel groans, his fingertips digging further into your skin. You begin to tremble once you feel another orgasm building inside you, climbing up from the depths of your core. You close your eyes and Joel rubs your clit with his thumb, riding the high with you before it comes crashing down. Joel pulls out of you, stroking himself quickly as hot, sticky ropes of liquid hit your stomach. Both of you are breathing strenuously, you lean forward to lay on Joel’s chest.

“I do care ‘bout you,” he whispers as you drift off to sleep.

Everything feels right with Joel again.

You never want it to end.

But, it does.

—

[beskarandblasters]

Copycat Killer with a Chemical Cut - Copycat Killer Part Two

Famous Singer Joel x Stalker Fan Reader AU

Copycat Killer Masterlist

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: After the events of Punisher the reader is fixated on seeing Joel again but this time from a distance. Her last encounter was too close for comfort… or so she thinks.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, written in third person, stalker behavior from reader (I mean it’s part two to Punisher what did you expect), no mentions of a physical description of reader besides the fact that she can cut/dye her hair, age gap (takes place in 2010 so Joel is 43 and reader is in her mid to late 20’s), drug use, drinking, fingering, unprotected sex, cream pie, semi public sex, no use of y/n

The effects of the drugs are wearing off in a precipitous crash. She’s fading hard. She stumbles home as fast as she can, just wanting collapse in her bed and rot. She reaches her apartment building and drags herself up the stairs, so close to the end. She struggles to get the key in the keyhole, hands shaking violently as she tries to keep herself upright. She bursts through the door with a thud, surely disturbing the people below her. She falls into her bed as her mind replays the night’s events. She doesn’t know how to feel. She wanted to get close to Joel Miller but that was too close. The room is spinning and she can’t think straight. She closes her eyes to try and make it all stop and ends up drifting off to sleep. 

The morning light coming in through the window wakes her up with a pounding headache. She definitely got too fucked up last night because the higher you go, the harder the fall. She rolls over and checks her phone; 1:00. She slept in really late but that’s typical for her. She gets out of bed and looks in the mirror across her room, concocting a plan in her head about how to get close to Joel again. The thing is, she’s recognizable to him now. Despite all of the substances they were under, it’s hard to exactly forget an experience like that. What kind of person gets up and bolts without saying a word after giving a guy a blowjob?

And the idea strikes her weird little mind. It’s time to go to the store. She searches the nearest beauty supply store, changes out of last night's clothes, and begins the journey there. She walks everywhere, no matter how long of a walk it is.

“Man, I wish that I could say the same

I swear I'm not angry, that's just my face

A copycat killer with a chemical cut

Either I'm careless or I wanna get caught

Who I'm not”

On the walk there she thinks about last night again. She thinks about how nice Joel was to her. She just barged in on him alone in the pool house and he wasn’t even phased. She wishes she could be that nice but she’s too off putting. She doesn’t have people skills. And it doesn’t help that her appearance is just jarring. She’s usually in yesterday’s clothes, bags under her eyes, hair unkempt, and the resting bitch face ever so present. She was destined to be a loner. 

After the long walk she arrives at the beauty supply store. She walks up and down the aisles, scanning them for what she’s looking for; a hair bleaching kit. Her plan is to bleach all of her hair in the hopes that Joel wouldn’t recognize her. She’s hoping in the midst of his spiraling drug addiction that this will work. But is that even likely? Probably not. She’s lying to herself but deep down she knows it won’t work. She finds the kit and goes to the counter to pay, ignoring the judging looks from the cashier. She leaves hastily and speedwalks home, eager to get her plan going. She barges into her apartment and gets straight to work, stopping to do a line before starting the process…

She changes into a sleep shirt and stands in front of her bathroom mirror, taking a deep breath before opening the kit. The kit comes with gloves but why would she use them? She dumps the blueish paste into the clear plastic bowl before taking some on the brush, slathering her hair in a messy fashion. She covers her whole head, slicking her hair back and setting on a timer on her phone for when it’s time to wash it out. She sits down on her couch and flips through TV channels, looking to kill time. Night time is when she thrives, moving under the dark covert where she’s met with less judging eyes. The night is when she finds more people like her so the day time is when she normally retreats to the comfort of her apartment. 

She slumps against the couch, closing her eyes in exhaustion. The sound of the TV lulls her to sleep…

She awakes with a gasp and shoots up, desperately looking for a clock to check the time. She sees her phone on the floor and grabs it; 7 p.m, four hours have passed. Shit. She scurries to the bathroom and looks at her hair in the mirror. It’s bleached alright but it’s also fried. She jumps in the shower and starts washing the dried, crusted bleach out but to her horror her hair starts falling off in large clumps. She grabs a towel and gets out of the shower, looking at herself completely unphased. Her hair is much shorter now, with jagged, uneven ends. How could she be so fucking stupid? But in all honesty after the initial shock she didn’t care anymore.

She dries herself off and blow dries her hair, getting a better look at it now that it’s not drenched. It still looks like shit but not as bad as it looked wet. She gets dressed and makes herself look at least semi presentable. Tonight she’s going back out on the prowl for Joel, hoping to see him at the bar this time. She grabs her bag and a book to read and sets off into the evening. The judgmental stares are in full swing tonight thanks to the hair. But that sort of stuff never phased her and it surely isn’t phasing her now. She walks with her head up, purse slung over her shoulder and book clutched to her side, walking down the street without a care in the world. She can’t be worried about her appearance right now, not when she’s on a mission. 

She reaches the dive bar on the corner. It’s full of people who are probably not too far off from her vibe. She sits at the bar and orders a vodka soda and scans the room. No Joel yet so she cracks open her book, sipping on her drink and eavesdropping on others’ conversations as she reads. It’s nothing of importance. No one’s talking about him. She orders another drink and props her elbows on the bar, resting her head in her hands. She’s getting impatient. She had a taste of him last night and she’s desperate for more. She’s hoping and praying just to hear his hame, let alone see him again. She finishes the second drink and goes to the bathroom. She stares at herself in the mirror before doing a line to calm her nerves. When she returns she finds none other than Joel Miller sitting at the bar alone. It’s clear he drank before he came. And he’s definitely on some sort of substance. She opens her book and pretends to read; pretends to act like she hasn’t noticed him. But she notices him slide closer and closer to her out of her peripheral vision. Maybe the disguise didn’t work. Her eyes flicker back to her book before taking one more look and that’s when she sees Joel directly next to her. She gasps but before she can speak, Joel goes first. 

“I know you.”

“Do you?” 

“The pool house. You think you can just change your hair and then all of a sudden I wouldn’t recognize ya?”

He reaches for her chin and turns her face towards him to look her directly in the eye. 

“Can’t forget that pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock.”

Her eyes widened. He’s so different from last night. Maybe it’s a different mixture of drugs? Maybe because he’s not at a party? 

Or maybe it’s because he knows she wants him. And now he’s taking advantage. 

“Meet me in the bathroom if you want a good time,” he says before getting up and walking down the hallway. 

She’s torn. At first she never wanted it to go this far. She just wanted to be near him without him noticing; to lurk in the shadows… But deep down she’s living for the thrill of it all. The dark, twisted side of her wants to get closer and closer to him, until she’s infiltrated every corner of his life. 

She grabs her bag and follows him, ready to just suck him off again. But it seems he has other plans. He presses her against the bathroom after it closes and kisses her, one hand palming her thigh and pulling up her skirt. His calloused fingers trail the seam of her underwear teasing her ever so slightly before pulling them down completely. While his fingers grazed the entrance of her cunt his mouth worked on her neck, marking it up with bites as she moaned against him. He pulls back and looks at her with a deranged look in his eye. But that didn’t scare her. He brings his fingers to his mouth and moistens them, bringing them back to her cunt. He pushes two fingers inside her, without warming her up with just one first. 

“A dirty girl like you can handle it,” he whispers against her ear, curling his fingers ever so slowly.

She writhes against the door in pleasure as Joel takes pleasure in teasing her. 

“Please… I need more,” she moans softly. 

His thumb finds her clit, sending her closer to the edge. Her moans fill the small bathroom as he works to bring her to orgasm. She cums around his fingers, soaking him down to his wrist with her release. He pulls his fingers out of her and grabs her waist, dragging her over to the bathroom sink. She bends over and stands on her tiptoes to lift her ass higher for him. He undoes his belt and slides down his pants. Something falls to the floor with a light thud but both of them are too horny, drunk and drugged out to give a shit. He slicks his cock with the wetness on his hand and pushes himself inside her. His hands squeeze the soft skin of her waist underneath her shirt, hard enough to leave a mark as he pulls her into him. Anyone outside the bathroom could hear their incoherent moans of pleasure and the sound of skin colliding with skin. With his size and the force he’s fucking her with she’s not going to last long. And apparently neither will he. She feels his cock tense up inside her so she pushes against him as he pushes against her. Her orgasm erupts from her core as she grips the sink, desperately trying to keep herself up as her legs are going weak. With one final slam he finishes, filling her up with his cum as he leans back and closes his eyes in pleasure, letting out a guttural moan in the process. She doesn’t flip out that he just came inside her. She’s still hung up on the fact that they just fucked inside the bathroom of this bar. He pulls out of her and pulls up his pants, cock still wet. 

“Thanks for a real fuckin’ good time, darlin’,” he says, kissing her on the cheek before leaving. He gave her the same treatment she gave him the night before. She cleans herself up with a paper towel and notices something on the floor; his wallet. She immediately picks it up and opens it without thinking, scanning it for his driver’s license. She pulls it out of the sleeve and takes note of the address. She puts the wallet in her bag and finishes cleaning herself up now that she has a new mission in mind. She leaves the bathroom and pays her tab at the bar before exiting onto the street. His house is in this neighborhood but also sort of not. She’s walking there of course but it’s gonna be a long walk. 

It’s past midnight now. She walks through the night, legs and abs sore from the bathroom sex earlier but she persists. Her high is fading, too. It’s a chore to get to his house but she wants this more than anything. 

She climbs up hills and weaves through the neighborhood, pulling out the license to make sure she’s going the right way every so often. But then she turns onto his street and picks up the pace now that the end goal is in sight. She stops in front of his house, nice but also modest; not overly flashy. It’s tan with green shutters and a rust colored roof. The lawn is slightly unkempt. It’s somehow exactly what she pictured in her mind when she thought of where Joel Miller would live. 

She checks her phone: 1:30 a.m. She drags herself to the front door and rings the doorbell; the alcohol in her stomach stirring thanks to her nerves. She heard a gruff “hang on” come from somewhere in the house. She waits for what feels like forever until Joel answers the door. He doesn’t realize who it is at first until his eyes adjust to the outside light above the door. The look on his face is one of pure horror as she breaks out into the widest grin. 

To be continued 

[persesphonestears]

A little one-shot of Enby! reader kicking ass with cod boys being there too ^^

haven-is-happy - I do be loving a mid 20s enby reader causing havoc and making the old men fear her 

Also @haven-is-happy is there any anon you wanna be because I luv you ^^

This is not proof read btw so very sorry if there are mistakes ^^

Summary?: Young mid 20’s enby reader(call sign is gonna be Razor) proving just because they’re younger and not your typical ‘male or female’ soldier that they will and can gladly kick ass.

Warnings: Some transphobia(?), Swearing, Degrading from other recruits, fighting, blood, y/n beating ass ^3^

Y/N’s POV:

Joining the 141 was some type of dream, working under Laswell for the longest time, and then out of nowhere telling me she wants me to join one of the most prestigious task forces there is. I thought I was dreaming, until finally being dropped off and greeted by Captain John Price himself.

"Sargent Razor." I nodded back to him holding my hand out to greet the bearded man, "Captain, Its nice to meet you." Thank the gods that I had my gloves on, or I think my hands would have drenched his with my sweat. "Same to you, Laswell has said good things about you, I'm hoping you live up to them." "Yes sir."

He led me into what I assumed was the Rec Room, Entering there was some recruits chatting to each other on some of the couches and other watching TV; non paying attention to the Captain and I walking in. "Ahem?" Captain Price roughly cleared his throat gaining peoples attention as they turned and sent small greetings to their Captain.

"Alright Lads listen up. This 'ere is Sargent Razor, newest to the team. You will treat 'em with the same respect you give everyone else. Understood?" His voiced boomed through out the room as everyone just nodded, some eyeing me and whispering to others next to them. Its like going to a new class in high school all over again.

Price turned again and gave me some directions for where my room, his office and the training grounds were, I thanked him and grabbed my bags heading to my room before being stopped by an even rougher british voice booming through the room, "Everyone in the training grounds in 10. Lets see how he new recruit goes.". Chuckles and sighs where heard out through the room as I groaned and kept walking. Wonderful.

----Small time skip + No ones POV----

After Y/N had changed into some work out type clothes, they reached the training grounds they looked around at the testosterone filled room cringing as all they saw was men. Crossing their arms they continued walking to their Lieutenant; who was currently conversing with the other two 141 men. When they caught eye of you walking over Ghost turned to them and smirked under his mask. "Sargent." "Lieutenant.".

"Alright whose up against the new guy here first hm?" Ghost's voice once again boomed through out the room though there was a hint of a tease. There wasn't anyway you'd take half the guys here easily. Multiple men's hands flew up, most chuckling to themselves, thinking close to the same thing as ghost. Ghost being the lovely person he is picked one of the biggest recruits he saw. After everyone gathered around the small ring they had with both you and this buff man who was much bigger then you inside.

"Don't worry lil guy. Maybe me beating some sense into you will help, some brain damage may help you be less delusional" He murmured loud enough for you and others to hear causing chuckles to come around you. You knew what he meant. Of course you did. You've been berated and made fun of for not being male or female since you joined the military.

You didn't respond, glad you now had a real reason to beat your so called teammate into the ground. Ghost, Soap, Gaz and Price stood watching, surprised at their privates choice of biggited words towards you, but more so the small smirk that ghosted your face after what he said. "GO." Ghost yelled out interested to see how this played out. Gaz and Soap being ready to pull the big guy off you if needed.

The two of you started circling each other, neither going to strike first. "Come on you gotta have some move to use on me, you came up with you gender you can surely come up with an attack. Or will you start crying you type of people always seem to be so sensitive about this stuff" He yelled out laughing at his comment. So you gave in. You attacked like he told you to.

You charged forward, jumping on the ring edge to gain height on him, wrapping your legs around his neck taking him down with the force of the jump. After a second or two he managed to grip your thighs off his neck, turning over to grip your neck, "Jokes on you I'm into this typa shit." You smirked. Seeing your smirk he gripped tighter and gave you a good few decks to the face.

The two of you continued to fight, and as much as a surprise to everyone there you were better then your 'teammate' though he was able to gain some ground and had you on your back, him on op and straddling your hips to hold you in place. As the man on top of you was about to make another comment, he faltered looking away for a second, you, seizing the opportunity sat up quickly smashing your head to his hearing the satisfying crunch of what you guessed was a broken nose. The force had him stumbling back as you didn't waste time getting up and putting him in a rear naked chokehold (please its an actual thing leave me alone).

Adding pressure to his neck as he wriggled to try get out of your grip; even try to get up and slam you back down, though you didn't falter and happily added some strong kicks to both his stomach and his 'little guy'; and eventually he tapped out. After letting him go and him mumbling some more comments, everyone else was eerily quiet.

Turning facing everyone but mainly the rest of the 141, "Just because I'm small doesn't mean I won't cut your dicks off if more comments about me are made" Smiling and walking out of the training grounds downing your water. The rest of the recruits started at where you had just left. How tf? The 141 boys turned to each other surprised that you were able to take down one of their buffest recruits and walk away with few bruises and a split lip.

"OI GET BACK TO TRAINING" Everyone scrambled back to what their training would normally be after hearing their captain yelling. Price, Ghost, Soap and Gaz walked out feeling somewhat guilty, they know Laswell sent you but Jesus they weren't expecting someone who was significantly smaller then them to beat someone half your size. They all sent glances at each other. You sure were going to be an interesting team member.

Okay, I'm not proof reading this cause I'm super lazy and wrote this whole thing in one sitting so yeah, I can do another part if you guys want. But anyways ^^

[fieryglutenfreechickennoodles]

A Jackson Love Story

Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: It seems like before the outbreak it was common knowledge that history tends to repeat itself. But for this young woman it's a very foreign subject. A/N:

This is my new baby, my pride and joy! Hope you guys like it, I finally grow the balls to post my stuff here, I'm starting with this one because I'm very proud of it so far :3 Please be kind lol, my English is not top tier but I'm very happy about of this fic, it came to me in a dream, and I love writing it so muchhh and I hope you all love reading it <3

WARNINGS: Angst, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, Semi Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her mid 20's, Joel is in his 50's), Loss of Virginity, Breeding kink, Religious Guilt, Possessive Sex, Masturbation, Edging, Secret relationship... I'm terrible at this so i'm prolly forgetting something.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

That farm belonged to her father's family for generations, it was four miles away from the city, a big piece of land in Jackson Wyoming, her great great grandfather built it to raise his kids close to nature and animals, he had worked his whole life in other people’s farms, when he saw the opportunity of having his own, he didn’t think twice.

 And it was in this farm that her parents met, they knew everyone in town and had a few good friends, but their true shared love was the farm, it was over a hundred years old, and Paul and Laura tended to it with pride and joy every day, before and after his work at the dam and her work in town as a veterinarian. When he met Laura, she fell in love with the farm before falling for him, it happens if you’re a vet with a passion for farm animals. They started talking more when both realized they were both very religious. She lived in town but was often on his farm to check on the animals, with all that going for him every Sunday he would take initiative and would go pick her up early in the morning to go to church, then they would lunch and chat for hours. He fell for her at first sight, when she was over his place, he would always create a reason for her to stay a bit longer, a coffee, a slice of pie, a show he wanted to show her, even though he actually had never seen it before. When they started dating it didn't take long for him to invite her to live with him and it didn't take much longer for her to say yes. Two years later they married and one year later she was pregnant. But what was supposed to be the perfect life, changed one month into the long-awaited pregnancy. 

Usually not many people walked past the farm, some lost hikers rarely, but one night someone knocked on the door, Paul and Laura woke up in a panic, he told her to stay quiet and grabbed his gun. -"I'll go with you! Are you crazy?"- She whispered, climbing out of the bed. -"You are pregnant!"- He turned to her, with a raised hand, silently asking for her to stay. -"Yeah, and you are the father!"- She put on her fluffy slippers, and he rolled his eyes. Meanwhile whoever it was downstairs was nearly breaking the door, frantically screaming for help. As Paul opened the bedroom door the noises stopped. "Shit…"- They said at the same time, and slowly walked downstairs. They stopped on the last step, both hearts dropping at the sight. The man that was at the door was now running away from two people towards the barn, but they caught him and started… Eating him? It was far but it sure looked like that. Laura felt sick and sat on the stairs, Paul walked closer to the window and watched in horror as the man screeched out his last scream. -"Holy fuck…"- He whispered to himself; they never swear but that was for sure a different night. Soon other people started to appear from the woods running from others, some they recognized even from afar, friends, neighbors… Another man made it to the front door. Joey, a young florist from town, covered in blood. -"Open the door! For the love of God!"- He screamed, crying his heart out. -"Paul please! Oh my God! I'm going to die!"- Paul looked at Laura. -"What are you waiting for?!"- She got up and walked towards the door, but he stopped her with a hand on her chest and shook his head no. -"Paul, he is hurt!"- She had tears in her eyes. -"We don't know what's going on…"- With his other hand he took her hand from the doorknob. Joey was still crying on the other side, more quietly now… Then silence. They were staring at each other, listening to absolute silence. Paul decided to look through the peephole and he saw Joey squirming and contorting; he could hear the boy’s bones cracking. He stepped away from the door holding his mouth, disgusted and shocked. Before Laura could look too Joey screeched and threw his whole body against the door, over and over again. They jumped back and Laura screamed, the door started to break from its hinges. -"Oh my God!"- Laura held Paul's hand. -"Go! Upstairs! NOW!"- He screamed, and both ran back towards their room, at that same moment the door flung open, and Joey fell inside, climbing the stairs behind them on all fours, screaming. Laura got into the room; Paul quickly closed the door with her inside, turned and shot right as Joey was jumping on him, both fell against the door. -"I'm okay… I think…"- He said, weak, she opened the door and his head hit the ground, Joey was on top of him, dead. -"What the hell it’s going on?..."- She asked, her whole body trembling. Paul pushed the boy away and got up with a grunt. 

They stayed up that night, the door was gone, and the people kept coming, they were fast, too fast.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The day after, Paul fixed the door, and they started building a fence around the farm. Laura wasn't very good at building fences, but she was worst at shooting, so as she built, he watched her back. Everyone they killed they buried and prayed for them, the days were long and tiring, mornings were for building, evenings were for digging graves, nights were for praying and trying to rest their tired bodies and minds, which was also a task. 

After two weeks no one would show up anymore, no monsters nor people, Paul was able to help with the fence and after two more weeks it was done. 

After that they never left the farm anymore, rarely a monster would show up and they would kill and bury it, it was a sickening routine.

Months went by and they didn't even notice, their days were quiet and sad, they weren't that happy chatty couple they once were, but they still felt connected by the farm work and would always sleep holding each other. 

Their daughter was born in the bathtub, Laura always wanted a water birth. Everything went smoothly and from that day forward they found joy in life again.

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A year later Paul was feeding the horses and chatting with Laura when a group of three approached the farm's gate. Paul told Laura to go and she ran inside as he grabbed the gun from his back and walked towards the gate. They talked for a short period and Paul lowered his gun and relaxed, Laura was watching from the window when her husband motioned for her to come. She would like to hear what they had to say, he thought. It was the first time in months they saw people, alive at least. And it was the first time they were introduced to the fact that a community was being created in the city. They explained what they knew about the infection and the outbreak, and told them they should go to the city, the real danger in their area now wasn't the infected but raiders.

They talked for hours that night and decided to stay in the farm, but they helped the townsfolk with everything they could. Maria and her father used to go there at least once a week, at first for business and ideas on how to properly use the dam, for ideas on how to build a sustainable community and how could they potentially live as the good ol'days, Laura had many good ideas for that, she used to daydream about the normal world every waking hour and dream about it when she was asleep. Soon they didn't talk about business at all when they visited, they chatted and cooked food, laughed and drank whiskey. They were friends, family. 

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 After two years they wouldn't bury the infected anymore because they started to change, sometimes both of them question that in silence, they were people once, just that should give them the right to a proper burial, were they just scared to get too close, to touch them? They didn't talk about that, but by the way they looked at each other after seeing an infected was proof they both share those awful feelings. They would still pray for their souls and Laura would often cry in the bathroom, Y/N would often listen because she was always following her mother around, she didn’t know why she cried so much.

As Y/N grew she learnt how to do everything around the farm, from a very young age she was already into it. They rarely visited the community and that didn't bother her at all, she didn’t know better, but they argued sometimes about the fact that she should be around other kids, at her age she should be going to school and having fun, but they would always settle back to the idea of being on the farm. "Imagine if it all happens again but we are surrounded by people'' they used to say, the farm was isolated, but it was safe, they were alive until then because they were isolated in the first place. So, they homeschooled Y/N, taught her everything they knew and like that the years went by.

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When she was ten, she woke up before her parents because of chatting at the front door. She opened her bedroom door slowly and met her father doing the same, he put a finger in front of his lips telling her to not make a noise. She followed him downstairs, Paul felt her holding the hem of his shirt and felt chills down his spine, it was like history was repeating itself, but now there was a little girl involved, she shouldn’t have to go through all that terror. He suddenly felt strong and protective, as they reached the last step, the chatting had stopped, he opened the door and pointed his gun out, looking around, but there was no one, his blood ran cold as his brain created all kinds of scenarios, this could be a trap, he was lightheaded when suddenly his daughter’s voice woke him up. 

-"Dad! Look!"- She pointed towards the barn, there were two people trying to jump the fence, he looked but looked down even faster, his daughter's scream had woken up the reason the couple were there and were now running away, a baby, a few months old at max. 

-"Holy Mother of Jesus…"- He bent down to grabbed the basket, Y/N had both hands on her mouth, in shock and already in love with the tiny little baby. 

-"Laura! Laura!" - He called his wife with tears in his eyes. When she climbed down she almost fell on her ass when she saw the child in her husband's arms and immediately started to cry, Y/N watched as the couple finally jumped to the other side and disappeared. She felt like she would never forget that sight. And like that they became a family of four. They named her Dakota. 

It was a blessing having Dakota around, Y/N always wanted a sister and a brother, and her parents always wanted a big family, but that dream died when the infected were born.

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As Y/N started to become a young lady, they were glad they controlled everything their daughters knew and had access to, they wouldn’t even let the girls be around after dinner when Maria and their friends were there. Y/N used to go to her room and leave the door just a slit open and sit by it to try to listen to something, a story, an adventure, something about the old world. Somedays her parents liked to drink after dinner and cuddle by the fire, they used to remember and laugh about how wild teenagers were back in the day, and how their daughters were angels, Y/N remember listening to this, and she did feel that way sometimes… Wild. One day when Y/N was seventeen she went to the community alone for the first time. She had argued with her mother because she didn't want to study the Bible anymore, she knew everything word by word and thought it was baloney and her mother freaked out, how could she say that that in front of her little sister, she should be an example and yada yada, her high pitched screams made Dakota cry and that made her mother even more angry, while her father was trying to soothe the situation, Y/N sneaked out, grabbed a horse and left. Getting there, she went straight to the library and browsed books for hours, anything was more entertaining than that old bible she had read countless times. She decided to take a book where the main character had her name and went back. She hid the book on the second floor of the barn and went inside to face her parents' wreath, after hours of arguing and lots of crying they all went to bed without dinner, except Dakota who wasn't mad or sad with anyone and was as hungry as any other day. In her room she regretted sneaking out, her mother’s face when she came back was unforgettable and so heartbroken, the fear and disappointment on her father’s face was all too much, why did she do that? What did she get from such an extreme action? Nothing… She thought, but when she closed her eyes she saw the books, all those stories and that smell… Oh the smell. She smiled to herself, she remembered all the times she would open the bible expecting a new story to appear on the pages, she remembered the few adventure stories her father used to tell her and her sister, she always wanted more, and now she had it, it wasn’t all for nothing.

She woke up early the next day and went straight to the second floor of the barn and hid the stairs. Their parents tried talking to her and bribing her with an apple pie but she wouldn't come down. Not because she was angry or sad, but because she learnt what the book was about, it was a romance, she never heard or even thought of those things, she didn't know what she was feeling but it was as good as it was new, It felt wrong and that made it even better she didn't know why, it made her giggle and blush and that was so funny for her. She barely blinked, she couldn't stop reading. It was lunch time already and her tummy was growling. She hid the book again and climbed down. After a few very long apologies it was all back to normal. Lunch was great and afterwards she helped her father around the farm, both enthusiastically teaching Dakota everything, Y/N was so good with plants and harvest that her father couldn’t do it without his daughter anymore, Dakota thought her sister was the smartest woman in the whole world and so did Paul, he loved that his girl was getting better than him, he couldn’t be more proud, sometimes even playing dumb just to listen to her explaining everything with unmatchable gusto, she also helped her mother around the house a bit ignoring her anxious heart and her butterfly filled stomach. That night she snuck out and slept in the barn after reading the book until her cheeks were hurting from smiling and laughing. 

After that book their life changed a bit, coincidentally, because of another book, they started to visit the community more often after Maria planted the idea of bible study and Laura loved it, Maria was always trying to convince them to move to their community, maybe this time it would work. 

The class was actually a success. Laura was very religious but after the outbreak she started to question everything, in a healthy way, in a way she could explore other beliefs, even atheism and hate. And that's what the class was all about, a place to explore the bible with an open heart, like a piece of art, a place to believe or find out religion is not for you and that's completely fine, a place for counseling, for sharing, a safe place.  

While Laura was teaching Y/N would always go to the library, Dakota would stay for the classes then play with other kids afterwards and Paul would help around and chat with the few old friends that were still there. Before sunset they would all gather in front of the barn to go back home. 

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Her teenage years flew by, and she was now a young woman allowed to go to the community alone, Laura could swear her goal was to read every book ever printed, and if that was the goal going to Jackson only once a week with her family wasn’t nearly enough, plus Y/N was great with any weapons, fast on her horse and was of great help to the community. She was a brilliant botanist, great with any type of food management, had a sniffer dog’s nose for a good harvest and an eagle’s eyes for improvement on the crops, animal stock and every kind of dairy production, a bit awkward around people but that did not prevent Maria from asking her to pass on her knowledge to the townsfolk.

She was allowed to bring Dakota to her classes, three times a week, and soon enough her parents started going there that frequently. Dakota made friends quickly and that worried Paul and Laura a bit, but it was undeniably good to be there, a few months into this new routine and they were all spending the entire days there, the would go early in the morning to help around and after their classes they would cook dinner, help around or just chat and have fun. 

-"You guys should come live here."- Maria said to Laura one day, she had forgotten how many times she had suggested that over the years.  -"There is space for your animals and there are many good houses. We would love to have you guys around."- She smiled softly and put a hand on Laura's shoulder. But they wouldn't budge, even Y/N was okay living on the farm, she was quite socially awkward and she loved her old room. Dakota was confused, she loved the city more than everyone in her household but it was scary to change her lifestyle like that. 

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Half a year went by, and Y/N was in the library planning her class when a young girl, Dakota's age, walked in with Maria, she seemed to be showing her the community. "New people" she thought and went back to writing. That evening when she arrived home, she noticed her father's horse wasn't there. "Father is still in town?" She wondered what he was doing. As she approached her house the smell of burned wood invaded her nose, her mother was cooking. She walked towards the kitchen and watched her mom clean up the counter while humming a church song. -"Where is dad?"- Y/N asked and her mom turned to her with a jump. -"Good gracious young lady, a warning please!"- She took a hand to her chest and exhaled a laugh before answering. -"Tommy asked him to help with the night watch, he went early to meet the guys, you know your father, friendly as a golden retriever…"- They laughed. -"Never thought you guys would get this involved with the community, that's amazing…"- She smiled at her mother who was smiling back, softly. -"We are doing it for our girls…"- She walked towards her daughter and cupped her cheek lovingly, Y/N put her hand on top of her mother's and looked at her. -"Dishes are yours."- She winked and walked away laughing, Y/N rolled her eyes, sighed and got to work.  

She couldn't sleep properly that night thinking about her dad out there. She has known Tommy since her teenage years, but who were the other guys? She couldn’t help but wonder if they were nice, friendly? “They’re Tommy’s friends… I’m overthinking….”.

 She woke up before the sun and waited for her father to return sitting on her window, when she saw him in the distance she rushed to him. -"Dad!"- She screamed and waved, running to help him with the gate. She was in her pajamas and barefoot. -"Sweetie! What are you doing barefoot, you catch a splinter or somethin’!"- He laughed looking at his daughter and jumping off his horse. -"I barely sleep, I was so worried! How was it?"- She opened the gate quickly and hugged her dad. He grunted, coughed and giggled. -"I'm okay sweetie… It was quite fun actually."- He gently pushed her away and continued while walking towards the barn. -"You know Tommy is very funny, thank God he was there, if I stayed the whole night with just his brother I would have died of boredom!"- He chuckled. 

-"Tommy has a brother?"- She asked, looking at him curiously. 

-"Yes, older brother, just arrived… Guy is as close as a clam, I've heard around town that he is quite violent too…"- He looked at his daughter and shrugged. -"He has a daughter, same age as Dakota, the little girl seems to like him alot so guess he has a sweet side, or the girl it's a little weirdo like him…"- Paul laughed taking the cell off the horse's back and placing it in its place. 

-"What's his name?"- Y/N asked. 

-"Joel…And the girl's name… I don't remember…"- Paul petted the horse goodbye and wrapped his arm around his daughter's shoulders, pulled her close and walked back home with her.

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Two weeks later Paul was doing night watches two times a week. He was growing closer to Joel, it turned out they had a lot in common even though one was a talking machine and the other a brick wall. Tommy and Paul gave Joel headaches sometimes but he secretly liked the company, he missed the warmth of having friends, and hearing his brother's laugh was refreshing. Paul was officially going to town everyday after the farm chores. Y/N and Dakota were planning on asking to go with him, Y/N wanted to study and read and perhaps make some friends and Dakota wanted to go to school with her many friends. But they were afraid of Laura's reaction, she was already arguing quite a lot with Paul about his new routine. 

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Almost a month went by and the girl she saw in the library walked into her class, Y/N wondered if that was Joel's daughter. -"Hello there! Welcome!"- She smiled and waved at the little girl. She waved back awkwardly, looking around the greenhouse. -"What's your name?"- Y/N asked. -"Ellie…"- She answered, checking out a big tomato that was hanging from its branch. -"Nice to meet you Ellie, I'm Y/N, today we're learning about the different types of tubers and how to care for them."- Y/N looked at the few kids in her class then back to Ellie. -"Tubers…"- the girl said to herself. She continued her class, Ellie was walking around the green house, uninterested, eventually laughing at some words she found funny, the kids in the class were looking at her, but the adults weren't phased by it, new kids were always like that, adults sometimes too, slowly approaching the class or leaving without a warning, sitting far away and anything in between. 

By the end of the class Dakota rushed to talk to Ellie and Y/N smiled to herself when she saw Ellie smiling at her sister, she sure had a way with people. She gathered her stuff and walked past them after closing the greenhouse, they started to laugh so she looked back still walking, two steps later she pumped into someone. -"I'm sorry…"- She turned to see his chest and large shoulders, covered in a green flannel, her eyes went up and he was looking down at her with a shy smile on the corner of his lips. -"S'okay…"- He said, and she felt a shiver up and down her body. She was staring at him, mouth ajar. -"I'm here for…"- before he could finish Ellie came running and punched his arm. -"Hey sleepyhead!"- She said all happy. He smiled with his lips. -"I do night watches, what’s your excuse to sleep all day?"- They smiled at each other playfully. -"Look! I invited Dakota to eat some cake at home, so yeah, bye!"- She waved bye to Joel and to Y/N and Dakota followed her. He turned to ask them something, but Ellie tagged Dakota and they started to run. 

-"That's my sister…"- Y/N finally remembered how to speak, and he turned back to her, making her heart skip a beat again at the sight of his gorgeous face. 

-"Yeah, I've seen you around…"- He scratched his beard. -"I'm Joel…"- and reached for a handshake.

-"I'm Y/N…"- She smiled and took his hand. 

-"Tommy told me about your class, he said you're great…"- He shook her hand, looking at her with big brown eyes, his large hand, warm and calloused, completely engulfing hers. She smiled and stared back. He let her go and cleaned his throat. -"Paul's daughter right? The little library mouse…"- He said as if it was nothing but to her it felt like he knocked the air out of her lungs. -"He… he called me that?.. "- She asked, staring at him, her cheeks burning.

-"No, I did, he just said you are always in that old building…"- He squinted his eyes ever so slightly, finding it weird how she kept staring at him even while clearly embarrassed, but Maria told him that she was skittish like a cat, he thought that was very cute but didn't believe her until now. -"Well, see ya around."- He smiled with his eyes and walked away.

 As he walked away, it took her a second to process him. When it clicked, her heart dropped and she rushed to the library, threw her things at a table and looked for that first book she read. She sat on the table with it, flipping pages quickly as if her life depended on finding that specific paragraph, that description.

"He was older than me, way older some might argue, I knew that, but something pulled me to him, maybe it was his musky scent and mainly looks, maybe it was the desire to discover who he could be beside that shell he created for himself. He was known for being violent, angry and very grumpy but his big brown eyes hid a kindness to them, I constantly catch myself wondering how gorgeous he would look when he smiled, but he never did, only with his eyes, rarely, his salt and pepper curls and beard gave him a somehow approachable appearance, fatherly and warm, his voice made my whole body tingle the few times I've heard, husky and low, his whole face and body, sculpted by a perfectionist God, every wrinkle, every pore. Don't let me start on his broad shoulders and strong arms, oh how I have spent my nights thinking about how he could lift me up with no effort at all, pin me against a wall and kiss me deeply, his lips looked so soft, I would let him kiss me, as much as he needed, I would let him use me until my body crumbles on me, until my body is rearranged for him. He doesn't know this, he can't know how my body begs for him, how my body aches for his calloused hands, for his warm tongue and large…" 

She closed the book and placed it roughly on the table beside her, not wanting to look at it. It was him. She dreamed about that man for years, none of the other books she'd read had hit her like that one, none of the other men in them had stuck with her like that, gotten under her skin like he did, unphased even after all those years, the perfect specimen in her mind and heart and now in her core too. -"Oh my goodness gracious…"- She whispered to herself and caressed the book cover without looking at it. Her body felt foreign, sinful. Her mind was rushing. It can't be that bad… Right? She thought. Afterall she wasn't in love nor planning to get married. It's okay, she thought when she realized she was overthinking, he didn't even feel the same way, why would he? She took a deep breath and cleaned her mind, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of embarrassment about how awkward she was, how innocent, she was still that bible study girl after all, afraid of God, and afraid of sin, she wasn't nearly as cool and powerful as the girls in her books, she was just a little library mouse… Maybe in that case, that a good thing…   

Y/N left the library with the book in her purse and asked the guy, who was the librarian of the day where Joel and Ellie lived. She wanted to take her sister and go back home early that day. 

She stood in front of the house for a minute, unable to knock. "Get yourself together…" she said in her mind, and knocked before another thought occurred. 

-"Who is it?"- It was Ellie's voice, and she allowed herself to relax.

-"It's Y/N, I'm here for…"- Her sentence was cut short when Joel opened the door, his flannel was gone, he was wearing a black shirt that was too tight for him.

-"Hi…"- He looked at her, unreadable, voice deliciously low. 

-"Can you call Dakota for me please, we have to get going…"- Her voice was small as she fought the urge to bite her lower lip and avoided his gaze. 

-"Do you wanna come in for a while?"- He asked playfully, probably because he noticed her peeking at the inside of his house because she couldn't look at him for more than a second. 

-"What?! No! No, thanks… Hum…I…"- Before her cheeks could go completely red, he asked another question. 

 -"What do you like to read?"- He leaned on the door frame, and she felt like dying, and she would've died happy. 

-"Bo… Books about what I teach…"- She held her purse strap tight and looked up at his biceps and forearms towering over her and gulped. 

-"Nice…"- His low voice sending chills up her thighs.

-"At your age I enjoyed romance and thrillers."- He discreetly looked at her, from head to toe, her hair on a messy bun, pink lips, adorable summer dress, and cleavage… He inhaled sharply.

 -"I'll call Dakota, you wait right here."- He walked in leaving the door open.

 She turned from the door, let out a breath and gasped for another one, her face never felt so hot, she wondered how pathetic she looked. -”Holy shit!”- It came out as fast as her hand came up to slap her mouth three times, a tick she had since she was little, every time she said a swear word, she would slap her mouth.

 -"Were you swearing?"- Dakota asked from behind her and she jumped.

 -"No, yes, sorry…"- She looked at Dakota and placed a kiss on her forehead, the little girl was holding a piece of cake and Ellie was right behind her, almost resting her head on her friend's shoulder.

 -"Ellie told me to give it to you… She is very proud of her first cake!"- Dakota giggled and looked at Ellie over her shoulder, she was rolling her eyes, her cheeks pinker than usual. 

-"Thanks Ellie! You should be proud, it looks and smells great!"- Y/N smiled and Ellie did too, shy as could be, Joel approached slowly. 

-"Okay, so, bye Ellie!"- Dakota waved to her new friend and jumped down the four steps on her front porch. 

-"See you tomorrow right?"- Ellie asked, walking past the door frame, seeking Dakota's attention. 

-"Sure, I'll talk to my parents about it."- Dakota said with a smile and started to skip towards the barn. Y/N and Ellie waved to each other as the little girl squeezed herself beside Joel to walk back into the house. He cleaned his throat and said.

 -"They want to go to the movies tomorrow…"- Joel crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame.

-"Cool…"- She said, distracted by his incredibly large shoulders. 

-"You stare a lot…"- He smirked the smallest of smirks. 

-"I'm… I'm sorry…"- She quickly turned to walk away. 

-"I like it, s'cute."- His smirk widened a bit and she was completely unable to speak, held in place by his words, she was thankful that he couldn't see her face, her wide eyes and flushed cheeks, meanwhile he took his time to analyze her body again, the thin straps of her dress on her delicate shoulders, the many strands of hair falling from her bun, the way her dress held her ribs and danced with every warm summer breeze. He smiled to himself.

-"Would be great if you'd come too…"- He said before his brain could process it. If Y/N wasn't red as it could be already, she was now. She turned back to him, eyes wide. -”Tomorrow my father will go fishing and I always help my mum to clean the fishes and…”-

Her voice was getting smaller with each word, she almost thanked him when he interrupted her. -“S’okay… I can help…”- He just stared at her.

She didn't want to think about that, she just nodded and instead of the good old “goodnight” she just smiled awkwardly then rushed to meet her sister. Joel watched her run away, exhaled a tiny laugh through his nose and walked back in to cook dinner and hopefully find out why he invited her so abruptly.

She followed her sister who was now a few feet in front. She decided that stuffing her face with cake was a good way to stop thinking about him. The cake was great but it only made her think more about him.Did he help her bake? Was he a good cook? What was his favorite meal, favorite sweet treat? Her head was spinning but it felt weirdly good.

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It took a lot of talking to convince Paul and Laura to allow them to go to the movies, but they won that battle, after cleaning the dishes the sisters ran upstairs to Dakota’s room and talked about the upcoming day for hours, they heard about cinema and movies before but never watched it, much less in a big screen, Dakota describe it to Y/N as Ellie had described to her that night, it seems absurd and fantastic. Y/N loved how much about the world her little sister knew about. They talked about what story they wanted to watch as a movie, Y/N had many stories on her mind, but Dakota wanted something bible related and she thought that was funny, they don't even remember falling asleep, it had been a while since they slept together, in the morning it felt sweet and nostalgic, Y/N remembered when they used to have slumber parties and late nigh tea raves as they used to call. 

After breakfast Y/N put on her boots and left to tend to the animals, they were probably waiting for her, she secretly gave them fruit salads during summer. 

While brushing her horse she heard someone else walk in the stable.

-"Dad?"- She asked without looking. 

-"I'm looking for him as well…"- A man said. She turned around with a gasp and when she saw Joel she gasped again, her whole body exploding with goosebumps. 

-"Dear lord!"- She caught her breath and he exhaled a laugh. 

-"Didn't know I was that ugly."- He said approaching her. 

-"I just wasn't expecting you…"- She stuttered a bit, already red as one of her tomatoes. -"... And you are not… ugly…"- She was staring again, at his strong neck and chest. 

-"You are not ugly too…"- He walked closer and petted her horse over her shoulder, she took a deep breath, he smelled amazing, she looked up to his eyes and he was already looking down at her, she felt lightheaded.

-"Look who's here!"- Paul's voice made her exhale a very shaky breath as Joel turned to greet his friend. With large steps they met in the middle of the stable and hugged, slapping each other's backs. 

-"Damn you are punctual, I was just finishing some tasks but Y/N can do it for me, right sweetie?’’- Paul winked at her and she just nodded.

 -‘’I'll go kiss Laura goodbye and grab some lunch for us, be right back."- Paul slapped his friend's arm and ran back home. Joel walked towards the stable entrance and looked around the farm, you could see it all from there, even the river in the horizon. It was a beautiful piece of land, even prettier under the summer sun. Joel always wanted to own a farm, it was his idea of an ideal life. She approached him slowly.

-"It's gorgeous right?''- She said, now beside him. 

-"You are very lucky…''- He looked at her and she looked stunning, the breeze blowing her hair ever so slightly, the thin layer of sweat on her neck, her gorgeous lips, tired eyes looking so lovingly at her farm, her breast so soft under her white dress, it was an old dress and under that strong sun it turned a bit transparent, he swallowed dry and looked away, in a fraction of a second he thought of them as a couple, taking care of that farm and having kids, he felt like he would want her pregnant all the time, fuck, how amazing she would look pregnant in those summer dresses. He snapped out of it when he felt his dick twitch. "What the fuck Joel, you are older than her dad!" He cursed himself in his mind and cleaned his throat. His eyes found Paul and Laura in the distance, kissing passionately, he looked at Y/N with the intention of telling her goodbye but she was staring at her parents, eyebrows slightly furrowed.  

-"I've never kissed anyone… Is it good?"- She asked looking up at him, he nearly choked on his saliva and looked away, unable to stare back at her after that. He watched as Paul walked towards them, he knew she was still looking at him, waiting for an answer. 

-"It is… It's very good…"- His heart was pounding and his face was red hot. 

-"I want to be kissed…"- She whispered to herself and looked forward again, he tensed up and there was that damn twitch again. "Holy shit!" he thought as he adjusted his pants. 

-"What are you two talking about?"- Paul asked as he walked in between them, into the stable. She looked at Joel again, his eyes meeting hers finally and he parted his mouth a bit looking at her wanting lips. 

-"Nothing dad, just small talk…" - She said looking at Joel’s lips for a moment before walking towards her dad to help him prepare his horse, he felt empty without her eyes on him, but forced himself to ignore those feelings and walked towards his horse a few steps away from the barn.

They left for the lake and Y/N finished the tasks alone, she did it all automatically, only realizing some hours had passed when the afternoon breeze creeped under her dress. After cleaning the pigsty she sat under a tree to rest, but resting wasn't easy. She was trying to think how it would feel to kiss Joel, she touched her lips and closed her eyes, wondering if it was a sin to feel the way she felt for him, she leaned back and thought how amazing it would be to be the lady in the book, didn’t she deserve an intense romance adventure? Didn’t she deserve Joel? She fell asleep as she revisited a paragraph of the book in her mind.

"He walked into her room as she was sleeping and sat next to her bed, he watched her turning and moaning in her sleep and sighed, angry. He couldn't take it anymore, every moment without his hands on her was a wasted one, every day without hearing her voice was a disrespect for the blessing of hearing, every night they didn't spend sharing breaths and gasps was a night forgotten.

He leaned forward and cupped her cheek, she looked so peaceful, what was she dreaming about? Was there a possibility that it was about him? 

She put her hand on his and opened her eyes. -"What are you doing?"- she whispered. Before he could think of an answer he risked never seeing her again, risked being hated by her family and their mutual friends and leaned down for a kiss, she gasped but closer her eyes again, accepting him, his lips was everything she ever dreamt of, so soft compared to his rough beard, his male scent mixed with the leather from his jacket was inebriating, then finally his tongue, so hot and tasty, like it was made to dance with hers, his frustrated moans even while doing something he desired for so long showed her he wanted to do so much more, now that he tasted her his desire only grew, he needed her all the time, anywhere…"

She woke up with a short gasp and looked around, as she got up and walked to her house, she wondered how they were doing, had they caught any fish… Were they swimming? The thought alone made her turn towards the lake and smile, a naughty smile that turned into a giggle. She covered her mouth still giggling and walked towards her house to get rid of all that dirt and get ready for the movie night in a few hours. 

[the-banana-0verlord]

HII!! How are you? Could I request any of the demon slayer characters with a S/O who has a Malleus Draconia personality? thanks ^^

Hello! I am well and thank you so much for requesting! ( I swear i started jumping in front of my computer when i saw the ask)

So here it is:

How Tanjiro, Rengoku and Inosuke would react to a S/O with Malleus Draconia's personnality(spoilers!)

notes: Reader is 20 in Rengoku's and 16 in the others. Little angst on Tanjiro's part, but Major on Rengoku's

☀☀☀

☀ Tanjiro Kamado ☀

☀Since you were young, all you've ever known was the demon slayer corps. Your parents were Hashiras. You picked up the sword at 4 years old and became a Hashira at 13.

☀But your world was a world of solitude, because your position and talent attracted not only respect, but also fear.

☀That was until Tanjiro came in.

☀As he still recognized your talent and treated you with respect, he also recognized that you were a human being with emotions and weaknesses.

☀His kind nature made you quickly fall for him.

☀You were the first one, apart from Giyuu, to accept his sister into the organisation.

☀One day, on a mission, he was wounded so badly, even Kocho didn't know if he was ever going to wake up.

☀For seven days and seven nights, you stayed by his side, praying to whoever would listen to save him.

☀When he finally awakened, you did something neither yourself or anyone would've though you'd do.

☀You wept. The tears just kept coming, never stopping.

☀With a weak hand, he cupped your cheek and made you look at him. He smiled sweetly.

☀«You see? I'm okay. I'm never leaving, promise.»

🔥🔥🔥

🔥 Kyojuro Rengoku 🔥

🔥Since both of your fathers were Hashiras, you two grew up together.

🔥Fate didn't even need to play a part to bring you side by side.

🔥You were a natual quiet and gloomy, but you were never seen without your booming, oblivious friend.

🔥You became Hashira at 13, and he followed soon after his father's retirement.

🔥You frequently went on missions together, and people often whispered in your path about how odd of a duo you were.

🔥But then he was called alone on a mission to the Mugen train.

🔥You can guess, it didn't go well.

🔥When the news got to you, you locked yourself in your quarters and screamed in anguish for the only man who had ever made you smile.

🔥You were going down, but you swore to take Muzan Kibutsuji and every demon in the world along with you.

🐗🐗🐗

🐗 Inosuke Hashibira 🐗

🐗You met on a mission. You had just slaughtered the demon he was hunting.

🐗Mad but impressed, he demanded to fight you. You obliged, It wouldn't take long anyways.

🐗You ended up defeating him(obviously), but something had occured to you.

🐗It had been the most fun you've had in years. Not because he was good, oh no, all of your fellow Hashiras would beat beat him in a blink.

🐗No, it was because of his stubbornness. No one ever tried to fight you in fear of you, but this one. This one faced you heads on, coming back no matter how many time you sent him to the dust.

🐗So you decided to take him under your wing until the day he would be strong enough to defeat you in a fight.

🐗One faightful day of training, his boar head accidentaly went flying.

🐗You freezed mid-movement, taken aback. He was beautiful.

🐗Taking profit of your moment of weakness, he stripped our sword away from you and pinned yo to the ground.

🐗He spoke in triomph of his feat, but all you could do was smile. Smile and then laugh.

🐗It was his turn to be set aback. He had never seen you smile, let alone laugh.

🐗«What are you laughing at, huh?! I won, didn't I?! I won!»

Have a good day/night!

[typinggently]

Ahhh I DO know what you mean but please don’t move on!! (Esp if you’re referring to role chat) I’m still on there here and there bc whether I like it or not rping is my little comfort hobby (and really, I feel like there’s way worse things to be doing… I do have other hobbies as well anyway and like, it’s creative, I don’t dedicate LOADS of time to it or anything, it’s relaxing etc plus I genuinely feel it helps keep my writing skills polished when I’m not up to ~writing~ writing) and I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the amount of mid 20’s and up chill people I run into on a regular basis… most of whom I have kind of a neighborly vibe with, I’ve noticed older fandom people aren’t as interested in continuing long term (which tbh is kind of better for me at this point anyway) so we just have a good time together when we do connect and then it’s see ya till next time :’) I really appreciate that vibe + the (generally) better/more natural writing style that people like 24/25+ tend to have. Just like a week ago I had a frank/billy one that I swear with some editing could’ve been fic quality.. it’s those little gems that keep me coming back

That's a really sweet view on it, thank you so much for sharing! It really does depend who you run into and how you personally interact with fandom as a whole, doesn't it? :')

I think I personally got too addicted to the instant gratification, the interaction and connection of rp, which really isn't good because while it might be fun, writing would be more rewarding in the end - as you said, rps are very non-permanent, both in the interactions with other rpers and the nature of the written text. Which isn't bad! To put that core issue into words: I've felt disconnected from the fandom blogging sphere for a while now, then the fic writing sphere, so I've been looking for connection elsewhere, and now I think I have to admit to myself that rping isn't the place to find that, either. Apart from the fact that you do risk stepping into spaces you really have no reason to be in (playground for 17-23 yos).

So you're right, it can be a fun past time, but it's not really a replacement for the connection you could find in other spheres (which comes with the nature of the medium, it's not bad!). I've had very little sleep, so maybe it's just that lack-of-rest bleakness, but at this point there's a certain peace to admitting that maybe, that sphere I've been looking/longing for just isn't there (anymore). Which, again, not a bad thing - we just have to adjust to those realities and/or adjust our expectations/hopes.

I don't know if this makes much sense, but what I'm saying is: You're right about rping, of course. If used correctly, it can be really fun!

[purpleofluck]

What if...

Random ideas mainly centered around takemichi (bc he is my baby girl) that I hope to write a one shot of or short chapters work about later on (idk when lmao)

▪︎Takemichi, a complex-level puzzle designer (on etsy), needs a roommate but is super paranoid after watching too many crime shows and listening to unsolved mysteries podcast. Puts the most ridiculous, off-putting ad.

Only one answers.

Pairing: NahoyaxTake

▪︎Takemichi as an eldritch being of deep, deep sea. Loves taste of human males. Occasionally comes close to land/beach. By chance meets Emma. Two bond. Monsterf*cking definitely involved 😋

Pairing: TakexEmmaxTake (Takemichi is technically genderless but morphs both human genders (occasionally mixing it up aka futanari or bussy😉)) might add draken idk

▪︎secret hard-core fanfic writer, especially of fluff and smut. Takemichi sees "romance" everywhere. Ships drakenxemma so hard - their number #1 fan (and secretly writes about them with different names and genre). Always internally screaming/squealing/cheering everytime he sees what he consider romance pairings, even strangers aren't safe. Lot of internal monologing. Learns to translate English for his fanfic and other fellow fanfic writers- his one best grade in school lol. Misses a few gang meetings bc of deadlines.

Pairing: either fuyutake or taijutake (I swear it makes sense in my brain, idk how to explain why though lmao)

▪︎Takemichi gets a surprise baby brother (thanks to missing, nameless dad plot hole). He's about 16/17 whereas rest of tomen are in their mid 20s. In a series of event Tk becomes sugar baby to support his baby (bro).

Pairing: AllTake

▪︎BNHAxTR crossover. Set in dawn of quirks, all out world wars/civil wars - very apocalyptic, dystopian. Tk in apocalyptic outfit (gasmask, scarfs, thick jacket, cargo pants, hiking backpack, a gun holster on his thigh for his handmade glock, and carries an AR in hand as he travels). He does have power related to time. I'm thinking similar to Eri from BNHA (he's a great great grandaddy? Maybe). Maybe he has horns or something to indicate he is using his powers (quirk). His power (quirk) would be like a remote: fast forward, pause or stop, and rewind. Very powerful but requires touch of all five fingers and enough power in stock (horn) to use. He helps other powered people especially kids (that are abandoned or being hunted down by military or hate groups). Unites many who want freedom from hate groups, creepy scientists, and militarization government.

pairing(s): undecided half tempted AfOxTake or maybe 1st OfAxTake, maybe some one-sided from TR boys and girls lol

▪︎og timeline takemichi somehow becomes responsible for caring for a reborn!Ace d. Portagus. Follows them as they become family with random gangsters flirting with an oblivious Takemichi, much to Ace’s displeasure. Good thing he found an iron plumbing pipe to bash heads in.

Pairing: mix bag, probably allTake

▪︎ instead of timetraveling power, Takemichi can heal but takes the same amount of pain in return (not physical of it, like bleeding.)

Pairing: bajitake

▪︎takemichi gets possessed by a dead woman looking for her lover to say a proper goodbye. Not a constant possession and it took him awhile to figure out he was possessed. The dead woman, in disbelief, finally wrote a note and taped it to his face (she needs help since she can't fully possess for long period of times). He (after a major freakout) helps her with the search. In return she makes decent meals bc she firmly believes even idiots can't live off on convenience food. Tk friends/gang notice the strangeness and eerie feeling they get from him (her)

Pairing: muchotake? Probably a little to out there maybe shintake?

▪︎ a/b/o with full animal shifting. Predator/prey society. Similar vibes to Zootopia with anti-predator sentiments. Takemichi is a Predadator Omega (pred. O are stronger than prey A). His Very Sad Backstory: his dam (a wolf, Japanese native) was murdered in a hate crime, his sire (from Canada, wolverine) went mad with grief and killed her mate's killers then died of a broken heart. He becomes an activist (while internally battling with antiprey thoughts - he doesn't want to be a hateful person but he is extremely reserved around prey and their mob mentality).

-I was thinking maybe he has a few pups already (different sires lol), since most predators don't settle down and he took after his sire as a wolverine who don't typically mate with just one. His sire was atypical in that respect.

-Tomen are all domestic cats with few being wild cats (hakkai and the twins). Domestic animal shifters (cats and dogs) tend be looked down on by both prey/predator

-The pups are probably reborned ASL brothers 😂

This idea might expand into several chapters 🤔

Pairing: Undecided

That's all for now probably more later lol

[slashingdisneypasta]

Oooh another would you rather!

Level A:

1. Oh Yzma definitely. She wouldn't try to marry my kid, she has an awesome lab, and as long as I treat her justly I think we could get along.

2. I don't like needles. Poison apple it is.

3. Honestly, I'll go with Frollo. I ain't gonna get blamed for Hades' plan working, and I will have the chance to make Frollo suffer for everything he's done. I can't be upfront or else he'll catch on, but I want to turn his whole world upside down.... And I have a better chance of befriending Quasimodo! :D

4. Oooooh neither option sounds good... I think I'll pick the favor. At least I only have to do it once... Hopefully...

5. Hm... I'll pick Scar. I have more confidence i can charm him into not attacking me. And besides, tigers are more deadly than lions.

6. Lock, Shock, and Barrel. I may regret it, but I'm curious. Besides, we can talk about spooky stuff.

Level B:

1. I think I'll take my chances with Kaa. I feel more confident being able to sneak around his coils, and not look into his eyes.

2. Now I'm going to go with Gaston here. Yes I'm terrified of the wedding night, but I'll get the reputation of being his oh so sweet little wife (and people will LEAVE ME ALONE-), meanwhile I can... Arrange an accident, or slip arsenic in his beer slowly. He's immune to salmonella, so it will take time, but once he's gone I'll be seen as his poor widow and get sympathy instead of judgment just because I want to read a book (ngl I've been thinking about this and the last frollo one for awhile. Like how the heroines could have offed the villains themselves).

3. Hmm... I'll go with Cruella. I don't want to go mining for diamonds or work with alligators.

4. .... *deep breathes* Silver and Scroop... Especially for Scroop... I'm not sorry...

5. Oh Toon Patrol, definitely. I like creepy things so maybe I can strike up a conversation with Psycho, Stupid and Wheezy look friendly/chill enough, I'd be doing my damndest to not get on Smartass' bad side, and I highly doubt I'm Greasy's type. Sure I'm being kidnapped, but maybe if I try to be friendly I'll be able to get off easy.

6. Dr. Facilier. He seems like he'd actually like me instead of just want to use me like Mother Gothel probably would. Besides, I would love to chat voodoo and magic with Facilier.

7. Oooooh I like both options... Can I have a contract with one now and the other later? XD um... I think I'll go with Clayton first. The wildlife views would be beautiful and familiar, unlike these whole new worlds that were thought to be fictional like Atlantis.

Yes, more would you rather's! ^^ They're all I have the energy for at the moment 😅

Omggg XD Starting off great here- 'she wouldn't try to marry my kid'. Right, you're so right. Well, I mean, unless they're a dumb beef cake in their mid-20's. She might try it, then 😅😅😅 Watch out!

3. Perfect!!! XDD That's a great fic idea, too, Frollo with a wife who secretly ruins his life XDD And yeah! You get to be friends with the sweet man too!

4. I'm curious what you have in mind for this favour 🤔🤔 (I'M NOT BEING DIRTY I SWEAR. though that stuff applies too)

~

2. ANOTHER GREAT CONCEPT!! I love this!! We have to talk more about Disney Villains S/O's and heroines taking them down from the inside. Also you're quite right at the start there- being Gaston's little mrs would for sure offer some immunity from town creeps. No one wants to fight him. Uh uh

4. You shouldn't be I get it XD

5. ... Why... do you highly doubt... that you would be Greasy's type?? This isn't self deprecation here is it???? =_O ... Apart from that- great answer!! ^^ I knew you would pick the weasels but I never get tired of talking about them! ^^

7. Yeah I get that ^^

Thank you so much for responding!!! I hope you enjoyed ^^

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Roommate Blues

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  Reader is a grad student in college trying to work hard for her degree while maintaining a long distance relationship with Dean Winchester. But what happens when Dean isn't there? This is part two of my "Before You Go" series, but it can be read as a stand alone fic. (I'm so bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Part One

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Age Difference, (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early 30's), Protective Dean, Established Relationship

Word Count: 7K (I have an addiction don't judge me)

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ just to be sure, because this fic contains attempted sexual assault/ dude being super creepy and sleazy. There is some swearing, mentions of sex (not explicit, but it's there), references to past sex, Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Masterlist

****************************************************

You dragged yourself through the front door of your apartment shaking rain from Dean’s oversized green coat that was wrapped around your shoulders and stomping your black rain boots on the welcome mat. He left it the last time he came to see you, a welcome surprise, given that it still smelled like him, but it made you miss him even more.

He hadn’t been by in a month, not for lack of trying. It seemed that every time he got ready to make the six hour drive from the bunker to your apartment, there would be an emergency, but you tried not to be disappointed. You understood that what he did was equally important if not more that what you were trying to accomplish at Med School. And at least Dean made an effort to keep your long distance relationship afloat. You remember before you got serious with him, when he wouldn’t call or text, just show up out of the blue and leave after a few days, breaking your heart every time. You were thankful those days were over.

Those days had been hard, when each day you hoped he would show up only to be disappointed, when you turned down dates from others because there was only one person in particular you were waiting for, when each time he showed up you felt your heart warm, and when each time he left you felt it sink in dismay. You hadn’t expected Dean to give in to an exclusive relationship when you gave him an ultimatum, but now 3 months in you were happier than you’d ever been.

Even if it was just long distance.

The late night phone calls, flirty texts, and the occasional picture kept you both in touch. Of course none of that could replace how you felt when Dean was with you. You missed waking up with him, watching a movie in bed, going out for pie, driving around in Baby and all the other wonderful things that you did with Dean.

But this was the deal you made when you started dating, a fact that you had to remind yourself of often. You wouldn’t make Dean feel bad about his job and you would finish school. When you graduated you could think about moving closer to him, but until then you were stuck. And missing Dean.

“Hey y/n!” Your roommate, Suze, crows from the couch as you enter the living room.

Something animated plays on the tv, bathing the room in brilliant white and blue light, but when you raise your eyes from the mat to look at her, you’re surprised to see that she’s not alone, her boyfriend Cooper sits next to her, his arm thrown around her shoulders.

You try to not look disappointed. Cooper and Suze had been dating on and off for a few months, and you always tried your best to either stay in your room or out of the apartment when he was there. It wasn’t that he was mean to you, it was that sometimes he made you uncomfortable. Like the time he “accidentally” walked into your room while you were getting changed and proclaimed that he didn’t know where the bathroom was, as if finding it in a two bedroom apartment required a masters degree, or like the time Suze left early for work and Cooper asked you to go to dinner with him or like right now when he traced his brown eyes up and down you form as if trying to see through your clothes.

You shudder into the jacket, thankful that it was bulky enough to cover your body.

“Hey Suze. Cooper.” Your smile is more tight lipped than you want it to be. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You hadn’t told Suze. Yes you were roommates, but sometimes it felt more convenience than friendship.  You both didn’t go out of your way to spend time together. Another reason why you were looking forward to moving out after graduation to start your residency.

“Well I didn’t want to stay away from my girl for too long.” His hand raises from her bicep to rest directly between her collar bones, closer than you would have liked to her chest.

The urge to vomit rises in the back of your throat.

I mean, Dean is handsy sometimes, but not in a creepy way. At least he doesn’t make eye contact with someone else when his hands drift. Dean's usually looking at me. You think to yourself with a frown.

“Uh-huh. Well, I’m just gonna go-uh- study.” You lie.

“Didn’t you have a test today?” Suze leans further into his touch making you even more uncomfortable.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to get behind, plus Dean is coming this weekend and I don’t want to have to study the whole time he's here-"

“Hasn’t he cancelled on you the last few times?” Cooper asks.

You blink. Why did he remember that?

“Yeah. Family emergency.” It was the excuse you always used when someone asked you why Dean couldn't make it.

“What is it this time? His mom has a cold or something?" Cooper chuckles at his joke. "Kinda sounds like he’s with someone else and he doesn’t want to be here with you.” He shrugs. “Maybe you should break it off with him, consider your other options." Cooper's smirk turns into more of a sideways grin that makes your stomach turn in knots.

“I'm good.” You say as monotone as possible, lips pulling down into a frown.

You turn and walk down the dark hallway, thankful that Dean's jacket is big enough to hide your figure.

As soon as the lock on your bedroom door clicks, you fall onto the bed face first with a loud groan, dropping your backpack along the way.

Your room was small, smaller when Dean stayed, but you always welcomed that. When he was here it felt more like home and less like a way station. The mediocre study-sleep-eat-work cycle was becoming a mantra and it seemed that the only time you were actually in your apartment was to sleep or change

There was that one time when I camped out in the library. You think to yourself remembering exam week.

It was 24/7 and you stayed after your shift to study for exams but nodded off. Dean had been mad about that though, upset that you slept in a public space where anyone or anything could have walked in. You thought that it was hypocritical for him to condemn your sleep schedule when you knew for a fact he went days without sleep.

Plus it was easier to sleep in the library instead of making the trek in the morning.

You sit up to look around the room. It was small, just big enough to fit a full-sized bed in, the thought made you smile. Dean barely fit in the bed, he was too tall and broad, and each time he would groan about how Baby’s backseat was ten times bigger and that you both might as well go sleep in there. However, you knew he secretly liked how small the bed was. The small size of the bed meant that you had to practically sleep on top of him, and Dean was not one to complain about cuddling. He often coaxed you into bed to study instead of at your cluttered desk because it meant you used him as a pillow while he watched tv and you tried to understand Metabolic Pathways and commit anatomical structures to heart.

Of course Dean always made the joke that he could help you study anatomy more than a dusty old textbook could. Your cheeks redden thinking about the last time he helped you “study.” It had been beneficial, but you didn’t need to have the memory of what you did to study distract you from the test questions. But what a wonderful distraction it was. The proctor of the exam had asked if you were okay because you looked a little flushed. Dean of course thought it was hilarious when you told him after he picked you up.

The room served its purpose. It had a small desk in the corner covered in textbooks and papers, a small closet, a cassette tape player that Dean bought you so you could listen to mixtapes he made, the ones he brought whenever he’d come visit with ridiculous names scribbled over the label and the ones you’d listen to when you missed him the most, and a dresser that was spilling clothes out of the drawers with a small T.V sitting on top. A purchase that happened after you started dating because it meant that Dean and you did not have to sit in the living room on the couch to enjoy a movie together.

You turn over on your back and fish your cellphone out of the deep pockets of the jacket, before calling Dean.

"Hey Sweetheart, how was the big test?" Dean’s voice washes away any sour feelings you have from interacting with Cooper.

“Harrowing.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was 156 questions.”

“Shit.”

"It’s okay, but my brain feels like mush." You groan pressing your fingers to your temple.

“Don’t joke about that. Sam knew a guy that died from mushy brain syndrome.”

“I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“Oh I’m pretty sure it’s like Mad Cow-“

“I haven’t ingested human flesh recently so the possibility of me having that is low.“

“If you ever do let me know, because that could be any number of things.”

“I don’t know. I think if I told you I’d suddenly developed a craving for human flesh, you’d shoot me. I’d rather just keep it under wraps and hope that I didn’t eat you by accident.”

“I’m sure I’d be delicious.”

“Dean!” You snort.

“What? You were thinking it.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also wouldn’t shoot you.” He laughs.

The laugh is enough to make your heart jump and buckle in your chest followed by a wave of loneliness.

I miss him. You think to yourself as you burrow further into the jacket with a sigh, and reach for a pillow to hold against your chest, wishing that it was him. “Oh right, you’d make Sam do it.”

“No. I’d lock you up and have Cas deal with it. Work some of that angel magic shit or whatever.”

“How are they?”

You had met Sam a few times and Cas only once. Learning that he was an angel was a bit of a shock. Despite listening to Dean's stories, sometimes you wished he was kidding about there being another world of dangerous supernatural creatures.

But you thought that Cas was sweet.

 Your cheeks flush with embarrassment remembering the first time you met Cas, when Dean was undressing you in his bedroom and Cas teleported in because he forgot about normal things like knocking. Dean couldn’t stop laughing at you when you fell off the bed with a squeal at Cas’s appearance.

Of course he laughed. He wasn’t the one who was naked. And he wasn’t the one who had to have the awkward conversation with Cas later about the importance of knocking.

“Sam’s geeking out as usual, and Cas is-“ Dean pauses. “I don’t actually know where he is.”

“Did you lose him?” You laugh into the phone.

“No I think he said he had something he had to take care of. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You really have to work on those listening skills babe. So, what’s the monster of the day?”

“Sam thinks Vampires.”

“Well he’s usually right.”

“Don’t tell him that. It’ll go to his head.”

You hear a metallic clink in the background and imagine Dean standing at the back of Baby, sorting through the arsenal of weapons.

There are so many red flags that I choose to ignore about this man. You think to yourself. The trunk of Dean's car was probably the biggest red flag, or it would be if you didn't know what Dean did for a living.

“I’m sure Sam already knows but let me text him real quick.”

“Y/n.”

“Please be careful.” You sigh tightening your grip on the phone. Trying not to worry about Dean was hard given the family history and his stories about what had happened to him already. The thought of one day getting a call from Sam to tell you that Dean was dead haunted you.

"I'm always-" Dean begins to say.

"No. No you're not."

"I am."

"Dean."

"I'm careful enough."

At least it’s only vampires. You reason to yourself with a sigh. I can't believe that's something I've ever thought.

You hated it when Dean told you about some of the worse creatures out there, hated everything that he had been through over the years. But vampires were easier, you guessed, or at least he never seemed to be too worried about vampires.

He will be fine. He's with Sam. Sam knows what he's doing, Cas will probably show up and help.

The sound of your roommate and her boyfriend watching T.V bleeds through the thin walls. Cooper mumbles something to Suze that makes her giggle.

Why can’t they just leave?

"I can hear your frown on the phone. What's wrong?" Dean asks.

“Um." You bite the inside of your cheek to avoid saying what's on your mind. You and Dean had never talked about Cooper before. Dean knew that Suze was "dating" someone, but he had never met him.

"Y/n? You still there doll?"

"Well, my roommate's boyfriend is here and there are thin walls." You begin slowly.

"Oh so you get a front row seat to all the reunion sex." Dean laughs. “Probably payback for whenever I stay with you.”

He thinks he’s so clever.

Your cheeks flush bright red. "Well yes, but at least we try to be quiet. They’re really loud." You press your lips together in a tight line, briefly wondering where your noise canceling headphones are. "But, it’s not funny. He's kinda creepy-"

"What?" Dean's tone changes from flirty to serious. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know he's-" You shrug as if he can see it. "He's okay."

"You're gonna need to give me more detail that that sweetheart,"

Dean's silver ring warms between your thumb and forefinger as you bite your lip. You had begun wearing it around your neck on a chain. It was comforting, a reminder of the promise he made to you 3 months ago that he hadn't broken.

"Well, the last time he was here I kinda thought he was coming on to me." You confess.

"What?"

"I mean, Suze had just left for work and he asked me if I wanted to get something to eat. But it kinda felt like he was asking me out. And then there was this other time when he walked in while I was changing-"  You shut yout eyes, waiting for Dean's response.

“He came into your room while you were changing?” You can hear the clench of Dean’s jaw in his voice.

Dean was always fiercely protective of you, a trait that you had never found attractive until you met him. It made you unafraid when you went out late to a bar together or when he sat with you in the library in the middle of the night, or when you went on a pizza run at 2 am. Knowing that Dean was there made you fearless in the best way.

“He made a mistake and he apologized.” You wave a hand in front of you as if trying to brush away the thought. “Plus he’ll be gone in a few days and then you’ll be here. You are still coming this weekend right?"

You think about the sneer and the taunt Cooper gave you when you got home about Dean blowing you off. You knew that Dean wasn’t cheating. Sure he was flirty, but you trusted him. If anything Dean probably worried more about you cheating, but you wouldn’t do that to him, couldn’t do that to him, not after everything he’d been through.  You couldn’t imagine yourself with anyone else, didn’t want to. Perhaps that scared you a little, how much you needed him. You’d never needed anybody else before.

"Yes. I’m only two states away and I promise I’m going to make it this time.” The plea for understanding is clear in his voice. “I’m sorry about last time-“

“You don’t have to apologize, I understand. I really miss you though. I wore your jacket today but it doesn’t smell enough like you anymore.”

“You’re weird.”

“You love it.”

“Yes I do.” His voice is softer when he says it, sending pins and needles across your skin. “Did you eat today?” Dean's voice is tinged with worry.

He knew your tendency to forget something like that, especially when you were studying or stressed about a test. Whenever he’d visit, Dean always showed up with food and a bag of snacks that he shoved into your room by your desk so you would remember to eat something when he wasn’t there. It was the question he always asked you because he knew that no matter how intrenched you were in studying it would be enough to pull out of the hole and send you into the kitchen.

“Not yet.”

“Doll-“

“I know. I’ll go out and get something in a bit.” You fiddle with the ring.

“I’d feel better if you ate something now.” Dean says.

“It’s okay I just forgot-“

“Y/n.” He sighs your name, but you still love the way it sounds.

“I know. I’ll wait until Cooper and Suze leave, they’re still watching T.V. I don’t really want to walk out there again.” You press your lips together in a tight line remembering his eyes on you and what he said about considering your options.

Yeah, not going to mention THAT to Dean.

Dean doesn’t say anything for a second. “Who is this guy again?”

“Someone she met at a frat party forever ago. Basically on and off fuck buddy until something better comes around. At least for him anyway.” You remember the last time they broke up and what a mess Suze was. It had made you feel guilty enough to sit with her one night and watch a few rom coms and hold a box of tissues.

No one should go through a break up alone.

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t know he’s just kinda creepy. Sometimes I think he’s staring at me or whatever. Maybe I’m paranoid.”

“You should go to the bunker for a few days-“ Dean begins to say.

“I’ve got class- plus it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Y/n, I don’t want you staying there with him.”

“Come on it was you that taught me a few maneuvers to get someone to back off.” Your smile turns more into a smirk. “I actually remember you teaching me a few other things too, but I don’t remember those being used to push someone away. I remember those things being better when you’re really close to someone. Might need a refresh when you get here, as I recall I was a good student, very eager to learn.”

“Don’t tease me right now. I really miss you. It’s been too long.” Dean groans into the phone.

“I know. I miss you too. But you’ll be here in a few days and my brain will no longer be mushy and I’ll be all yours.”

“Can’t wait.”

"Be careful."

"I will."

"Tell Sam and Cas I say hi."

"Okay. Text me when you go to bed and please get something to eat.”

"Okay. I will."

"Bye Sweetheart."

"Bye Dean."

When you hang up you feel the weight settle in the pit of your stomach again.

All I have to do is last til the weekend. 3 days, more like 2 1/2 because Dean will be here on Friday. You think to yourself with a sigh.

You lay on your back for a minute thinking about what you planned for the weekend. There was a vintage car show happening only an hour away and knew that Dean would not want to miss that, especially if it meant showing off Baby and spending time with you. When you first started dating officially, Dean had taken you to one a few states over, and had been surprised when he realized you knew almost as much about cars as he did.  Your dad’s obsession with them lead to a childhood of car shows and junkyards and meant you had a healthy dose of car knowledge. You probably would have been a mechanical engineer if you hadn’t liked medicine more.

But then that meant you never would have met Dean. You wouldn’t have been living at the apartment where he collapsed in the hallway with jagged scratches up his chest and a bite mark on his shoulder.  That meant that you wouldn’t have dragged a complete stranger inside and treated his wounds while he complained like a baby and lied about how he got them.

Dean never got better at lying to you. You smile at the memory that's quickly followed by the one of when he chose you. However, you didn’t know that he had chosen you the day that a complete stranger pulled him into their apartment and began to take care of him better than anyone ever had.

The sound of Cooper and Suze laughing pulls you out of your head for a second and brings the weight back down on your stomach.

You just had to survive to the weekend. How hard could it be?

****************************************

The next two days trickle by. Another test rears it's ugly head, a pop quiz darkens your doorstep, and an overnight shift at the library causes you to drag your feet all over campus. But you welcome it. It meant that you weren't in the apartment long enough to be around Cooper. A welcome bonus to having a busy week, because you couldn't find your noise cancelling headphones and one night was enough.

Dean hadn't been able to call, only text you to let you know that he was still coming and that he was alive. It wasn't the same as hearing his voice.

But you made it to Thursday night, that meant that you would be seeing Dean in less than 24 hours and the anticipation was killing you. You could hardly wait to see him, wished that you could sleep through the next few hours and wake up with Dean.

The apartment is quiet when you creep into the kitchen for a late-night snack, quiet enough that you figured Suze and Cooper had gone to bed a while ago. You couldn't figure out why he was still here. He did not often sleep over, usually Cooper would stay for a few hours and then high tail it to whatever rock he crawled out from under.

The kitchen was small, divided from the living room by a large bar bolted to the ground that ran from one wall and jutted out into the beginning of the hallway that led to your room. It meant that there was only one way in and out of the kitchen, past the refrigerator. Suze's room was directly across from the living room and the front door while yours was further back in the apartment down the dark hallway that also held the bathroom.

You stand up on your toes to reach into the cabinet for the peanut butter. Suze was taller than you and often forgot to leave it on a lower shelf, despite all the times you reminded her.

Come on. Your hand finally closes around the jar-

"Hey." A voice says behind you.

You jump up and hit your head on the cabinet door. "Ow." You groan turning around with the peanut butter jar in your hand, and rubbing the bump with your other one.

Cooper is leaning against the refrigerator door shirtless, wearing a pair of dark boxers that are slung low on his hips. His appearance makes the warm feeling of excitement that you have over seeing Dean so soon fizzle up and die.

I don't have time for this right now.

"Cooper. I didn’t see you. Um- where’s Suze?" You keep your voice even as you look away to get a butter knife in the drawer to your left.

Maybe he'll just go away. You hoped, but honestly you knew it was wishful thinking.

"She’s asleep." Cooper runs a hand through his reddish hair to push it back from his face.

"Oh. Did you need something?" You continue to act like you don't care that he's there, when it's taking all your willpower not to go back to your room. You don't like how dark it is in the kitchen, or the way that his eyes keep tracing your frame. It wasn't that you were wearing anything revealing, you were wearing one of Dean's soft t-shirts that hung past your waist and a pair of gray sweatpants.

But under his gaze you felt, naked.

"I just thought that I’d come talk to you." He sounds casual, nonchalant.

"Why?" You spread peanut butter over the piece of bread before moving it back towards the jar.

"Well, I thought we should talk about us."

Your knife stops halfway in its path. "Us?"

"Come on. It’s obvious that you’re into me."

"What?" You look up at him, face scrunching in confusion.

What the hell is he talking about? You think about all the times you left the room immediately when he walked in, and think about whenever he tried to start a conversation and you smiled tightly and nodded before coming up with an excuse to leave. When have I ever acted like I was into him? If anything I've made it painfully obvious that I don't like him.

Cooper is watching you with the same smirk he had two days ago when he asked you to consider your options. "You’ve been avoiding me because you can’t stand to see Suze and me together."

"No I haven't."

"You have." He smirks wider. "But it's okay. I get it."

"Get what?"

"I get why you're into me. Everyone is."

"I'm not." Your mouth turns downward into a frown.

You don’t have to pretend.” He traces his eyes up and down your body once more, causing a shudder to travel down your spine. “Because I’m into you too.”

“Cooper-“ You breathe, hand tightening on the knife in your hand that is still frozen in the air in front of you.

The temperature in the room seems to have dropped fifty degrees.

“Don’t try to deny it. You always get that cute little flush in your cheeks when you see me.”

“I don’t.”

How many times do I have to say no to this idiot? Is he really that stupid? You wonder to yourself.

“Sure you do. It’s adorable.” Cooper rolls off the refrigerator to take a step into the kitchen. “And I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Sorry that guy Dean is jerking you around. I’d never do something like that.” His eyes flash in the dim light coming from one of the lamps in the living room.

“He’s not jerking me around-“

“He keeps disappointing you. Let me make you feel better.” Cooper puts his hand on the edge of the bar. He’s still a good 4 feet away, but it’s enough to block you in.

If you wanted to leave the kitchen, you’d have to push past him. And the thought of you touching him or him touching you sends another shiver down your spine.

“Look Cooper. I’m not into you. And as for Dean, our relationship is none of your business-“

“Some relationship. He comes up with those stupid family emergency excuses and ditches you. Do you have any idea what I’d do to you if you were all mine? I’d never leave you ever-“

His confession makes the disgust come roaring back through your chest, followed by the sour taste of bile when you think about what's going to have to happen if he doesn't move out of your way.

You take in a deep breath, standing tall to face him. "But I’m not yours, and I don't want to be yours ever. I’m saying no. No to whatever warped reality you’ve come up with in your head. No to you and me doing anything further. No to me being into you." Your eyes narrow. "And that means two things can happen: one, you go back in that room with your girlfriend or two, we’re going to have a problem. Honestly,  I hope you pick door number one because I’m really tired.” Your hand tightens on the knife.

The truth was you weren’t afraid, more disgusted. If you screamed loud enough Suze would hear you and you also still had a knife in your hand hovering between the two of you. It was more the principle of what was happening that was disturbing, his inability to listen to you, to hear you say no.

“Well I think a know a few ways to wake you up baby.”

"I'm not your baby." You snap.

"You could be-"

"Hard pass."

"Aww come on don’t be like that. We both know you want me." Cooper moves forward a step dragging his hand along the counter.

You back up so that the drawers are biting into your back, knife covered in peanut butter clutched in your hand.

Just because you had taken an oath to heal people didn’t mean you were going to let him walk all over you.

"How many times do I have to say no?” You shout, not caring if you wake up Suze, not caring if you wake up the whole damn apartment building.

"Come on it’s been a while for you hasn’t it? That guy Dean’s been stringing you along, hasn’t been taking care of you. I bet he's selfish, doesn’t take care of your needs. You’re saying no to me for him? I guarantee even a few minutes with me will be well worth it. I bet you I can make you feel things that guy can’t.” He takes another step forward so that you’re almost chest to chest. “So why don’t we go back to your room and I’ll-“

Cooper’s body is yanked backward through the air so fast you get whiplash, cutting off his next words.

What the-

Someone is standing there, hand on Cooper’s throat, pinning him to the black refrigerator so tight against the metal that you’re sure it'll leave a dent. The magnets scatter at the feet of the two men, clattering against the floor sharply.

“She said no asshole.” Dean’s low growl vibrates through his chest and you realize the figure towering over Cooper is your boyfriend.

Your wonderful, sweet boyfriend, who told you he was going to be here in the morning, but wanted to surprise you. Relief courses through your veins at his appearance and you let out a shaky breath to compose yourself.

Dean towers over Cooper, who isn’t tall enough to look over his broad shoulders, let alone be as intimidating as Dean. Cooper's gangly frame and short stature made him look like a hobbit compared to Dean's muscular and tall body.

The heat of Dean’s anger burns through the air of the small kitchen as his eyes narrow, staring Cooper down with pure hatred.

“What the hell? Who are you?” Cooper sputters, clawing at Dean’s grip, but Dean doesn’t move. Scarier still is the fact that Dean is acting like Cooper weighs nothing at all, holding him a foot in the air so he can look into Dean's rage filled gaze.

"Cooper, this is Dean, my boyfriend." You say, finding your voice. "The guy that you said has been 'jerking me around.'" You form air quotes around the words. "Maybe you'd like to discuss our relationship with us, since you have so many interesting suggestions."

Cooper's eyes widen when he realizes who Dean is. "Whoa wait a minute I didn't do anything!"

You'd only seen Dean lose it once before, when you were at a bar late and a guy shoved you out of the way to get a drink at the bar. Dean broke his pinky on the guy's face, but he had looked so good doing it. You told him so as you set his pinky later.

Cooper gasps. "I didn't touch her-"

“What you did was enough.” Dean's face is contorted in fury.

“Wait a minute, come on. She’s acting like a fucking tease! You’re never here, she’s always prancing around in these little outfits-“ Cooper lies, grasping at whatever he can to save his own skin.

“Not her style.”

"Please I didn't know you were here-" Cooper twists his body with his plea, but Dean doesn't let go.

"Even if I wasn't, it doesn't give you the right to touch her." Dean spits.

“Cooper?” You turn your head towards the voice and notice Suze standing in the doorway of her bedroom with wide eyes. Her gaze traces over Dean. “What happened?”

“Hey baby.” Cooper smiles at her, his eyes still wide. “We just had a little disagreement that’s all-“ His hands find purchase against the front of Dean's red flannel shirt.

“A little disagreement?” Dean seethes. “Your asshole of a boyfriend was coming on to my girl.” His hand tightens on Cooper’s neck.

“What?” Suze looks Cooper wide eyed before looking at you. "Is that true?"

"Yes." You say gesturing with the peanut butter knife that you forgot was in your hand, before you place it down on the counter, no longer needing it.

Dean's got this.

"Baby come on." Cooper looks at Suze. "Do you think I would do something like that?"

Suze stands there for a minute looking from Dean, to Cooper, to me. "I don’t know.”

“You know me-“ Cooper smiles despite the situation, hoping that she can get Dean to back off. “You know I love you. You think I would throw you away just because a slut like her comes on to me-“

It’s enough for Dean. The sharp crack of Cooper’s nose breaking beneath Dean’s fist fills you with an ungodly amount of pleasure.

Suze's scream pierces the air as she watches the blood begin to flow down Cooper’s chin and onto his bare chest.

“If you ever talk to her, look at her, or try to touch her again,” Deans voice is a growl. “I’ll break more than just your nose.” He drops Cooper, who slides to the floor holding his broken nose.

Dean then grabs your arm and hauls you through the kitchen and into your bedroom, ignoring the string of curses that pour from Cooper’s mouth.

As soon as the door of your bedroom closes behind you, Dean pulls you against him. You can’t help but melt into his warm embrace, the disgusting feeling that rose with Cooper’s attempts to get you in bed fading away.

"Are you okay?" Dean's voice is tight with the force of his anger, but one of his hands moves up and down your back in a soothing motion.

"Yeah." You breathe, cuddling further into his chest.

The smell of leather, metal, and something spicy that you ascribe to your boyfriend makes the hole that opened in you while he was away close. It soothes whatever residual anxiety you had over what almost happened in the kitchen. You rub your face against his warm flannel with a smile, but when you turn your gaze upwards, you realize that Dean isn’t staring down at you like you thought he would be, he’s staring at the door. You can hear Suze and Cooper shouting at one another and it's quickly followed by the slam of the front door that you hope means that Cooper is gone and wouldn't come back ever.

“Dean?” You whisper.

“I should go out there and tear his fucking head off." Dean growls, tightening his grip on your waist.

"Hey. It's okay-"

"No it's not." Dean spits looking down at you. "Nothing that just happened is okay."

"I know." You soothe. "But it's okay. You handled it. I'm pretty sure that Cooper is never going to bother me again-"

"If he ever shows up here. I don't care if you have classes or a test, you call me immediately and come to the bunker. I don't want you here with him." Dean says, his green eyes piercing. "Promise me."

Dean knew better than anyone that you never broke your promises, no matter how big they seemed.

"I promise."

"Okay." Dean's jaw is still tight, but the tension in his shoulders loosens for a second when he looks at you, until finally he sighs. "I missed you." Dean's thumb brushes against your cheek.

"I missed you too. It was such a nice surprise for you to come early." You smile at him, before arching upwards to kiss him, but as soon as your lips meet, Dean winces, his right hand tightening subconsciously on your waist.

"Ow." He hisses, face scrunching up.

"Dean what's wrong?" Your eyes widen with worry. You reach up to cup his cheek, but Dean makes a face leaning away from your touch.

"Vampire got a few lucky hits in." Dean groans.

"What?" You turn on the lamp on your bedside table.

Both the kitchen and your room had been dark enough to hide the discoloration and swelling of Dean's face, but now that he was in the light you understood why he moved away from your touch. As soon as you turn back to look at him, your mouth drops open noting the split lip, the ugly purple bruise that circles his right eye, and the swelling of his jaw. "Dean!"

"I'm okay sweetheart." He tries to smile, but his lip twitches.

"Where else does it hurt?" You ask him gently touching his face where the skin is bruised.

"Just my ribs-"

You immediately grab the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up and off him with a gasp when you see what's underneath.

"Little eager aren't you doll?" Dean tries to laugh, but winces with the movement.

Black and blue marks mar the muscular skin of his abdomen and curve around the right side of his rib cage in a sickening pattern.

"Oh Dean." You whisper, heart breaking for him when you imagine how much this must have hurt.

"I'm okay baby." He says again, thumb stroking against your waist. "You just gotta be gentle with me tonight."

"You might have a broken rib or a perforated lung-"

"Y/n." Dean sighs. "I'm okay."

"This is more than a few lucky hits." You pull yourself reluctantly from his grasp and walk around him to see his back, following the black and blue trail with your gaze. "THAT’S A BOOT PRINT!"

"Don't shout-"

"What happened to being careful?" You whisper yell looking up into his eyes.

"I was. They ambushed us." He shrugs, but winces again.

"Is Sam okay? Cas?"

If Dean looks this bad what about the others?

"I got the worst of it." Dean half-smiles, but you don't like the way his lip twitches when he does.

You wonder how much pain he was in when he pinned Cooper to the fridge, how much of it he was willing to ignore because you were in danger. The thought warms your heart. He was willing to endure the pain if it meant protecting you.

“Stay here. I’m going to get you some ice-“ You turn towards the bedroom door, but Dean blocks your exit.

“You’re not going back out there.”

“You need ice.”

“Don’t care.”

“Dean-“

“I promise it doesn’t hurt that bad.” His hands find your waist again. “I missed you.” Dean says again.

"I missed you too." You can’t help but smile back moving to hug him, but you stop when he winces. “Dean-“

“I’m fine.” He leans down to kiss you but groans in pain as soon as your lips brush against his. Dean sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. “This is not how I wanted tonight to go."

“And how exactly did you want it to go?” You smirk up at him.

“Well for starters I didn’t want it to begin with that asshole trying to-“ Dean’s jaw clenches so tight together that you’re afraid he’s going to hurt himself. His eyes darken with anger, as he remembers what almost happened in the kitchen.

“Dean I’m okay.” You whisper again. "But thank you. It means more to me to know that you were hurt and yet you were still in there protecting me." Your hand traces over his chest as soft as you can without hurting him.

"I'll always protect you." Dean presses his forehead against yours. "I didn't like the way you sounded on the phone the other day and I wanted to come see you early, didn't want to leave you with him alone."

"Thank you. I'm glad you came when you did." You kiss him on the neck, because it's the only place that you can without hurting him.

Dean sighs. "I can't believe those damn vampires jumped me. I've really missed you." He puts his head on your shoulder, crumbling into you with a sigh.

You sink into the warmth that comes from his body, dragging your hands through his hair while he tightens his arms around your waist with a groan.

"Baby is it okay if we just go to bed? I know that you wanted to-" Dean trails off, mumbling into your shirt.

"Yes it's okay if we just go to bed." You laugh. "I care more about you having broken ribs or a concussion than having sex with you."

"Really? Because we could try-"

“No. I don't want to hurt you, plus I'm also kind of tired. I had a long few days." You soothe. Your hands continue to slip through his hair. "But if you're not going to let me get you some ice, please at least take some Tylenol.”

"Fine." Dean grumbles into your shoulder.

When he falls asleep, you stay up and watch the gentle way his breath moves through his chest and watch how the wear fades from his face leaving him years younger. Worry still tugs at your heart as you examine the bruises and discoloration of his face and you stop yourself from dragging a fingertip over his features for fear of hurting him. Instead, you tuck the covers up around him, settling against him. His arm tightens around your waist in his sleep, pulling you tighter against his bare chest with a sigh. And as you curl into his chest you forget the events of the night and allow yourself to be lost in feel of his heartbeat against your hand and the soft sound of Dean's breath.

*******************************************************

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