#is this too short for a read more? i played it safe
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Season 2, Episode 17 - Heart
Series Masterlist
Authors Note: Since this is a sad episode, I made some memes to lighten the mood <3
And I know, it’s been a while since my last update. I apologize and I truly hope you guys aren’t mad at me. I’ve been a little demotivated if I’m being honest (which is why I wrote my short story of Dean Smith) so I took a little break, read some books and other wonderful authors short stories and now I’m back! So I hope everyone enjoys🥰
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Third Person POV
San Francisco, California
“Here he is detectives” The coroner said to Sam and Y/N as she pulled the mutilated body out from the body drawer. Bite marks, scratches and claw marks coated his pale corpse. “That’s a pretty nasty bite” Sam commented in a low tone as he and y/n scanned the body. “Mm-hmm” The coroner hummed. “You know what bit him?” Y/N asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I haven’t quite determined that just yet” The coroner shrugged. Y/N scoffed, flashing the woman a coy smile, “Come on, doc. Off the record” She said in a persuasive tone. The female coroner blushed lightly, “Okay, way, wayy off record” She hesitated. “Sure, hun” Y/N said gently, smiling slyly at the woman. She took a deep breath before saying, “If i didn’t know better, I’d say the guy was attacked by a wolf”
Sam and Y/N shared a look at this, “But, unless I know that the zoo is missing one of their lobos. I’m going with a pitbull. I like my job” She flashed a wink at Y/N as she said this, a small smirk played on the hunters lips. “Yeah, we hear you” Sam chuckled, “One more thing, this guy. Was his heart missing?” Sam asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
The coroner raised her brows at Sam, “Yeah, how did you know that? I haven’t even finished my report” The coroner said in suspicion. “Lucky guess” Y/N assured her.
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“This lawyer guy’s the first heart-free corpse in town?” Dean asked as he and Y/N sat at the dining room table in her safe house, cleaning their guns. “First man” Y/N told him. “Over the past year several women have gone missing” Sam chimed in, pushing himself up from the couch to head over to the fridge, taking out a beer.
“Their bodies all washed up in the bay, too deteriorated to draw firm conclusions” He added as he walked over to the dining room table, snatching a chair before turning it around and straddling it. “But no hearts?” Dean asked, an excited look on his face. “No hearts?” Y/N shook her head as she wiped the gun and Sam popped open his beer.
“They were all hookers working at Hunter’s Point. Now cops are trying to keep things under wraps because they think that they’re looking for a serial killer” Y/N explained as she kicked her feet up on the table after resting down the last gun. “And the lunar cycle?” Dean queried. “Mmhmm” Sam hummed as he sipped his beer.
“Yeah, month after month, all the murders happened in the week leading up to the full moon” He confirmed. “Which is this week, right?” Dean questioned, “Hence the lawyer” Y/N shrugged, picking up her own beer which was residing on the table, sipping it. “Awesome” Dean grinned, snatching Y/N’s feet from the table before settling it on his lap.
Sam and Y/N shared a look due to his tone while Y/N tried to ignore the racing of her heart when Dean snatched her feet from the table. “Charming, could you be a bigger geek about this?” She scoffed as he reached into his duffel bag on the table to retrieve a case of silver bullets, “I’m sorry, princess. But what about a human by day, a fucking animal killing machine by moonlight don’t you understand?” Dean all but giggled as he opened the case.
“We haven’t seen one since we were kids” Dean muttered, the excitement clear in his tone. Sam and Y/N were both amused by this, “Okay, sparky, and you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland” Sam sassed, leaning just elbows on the back of the chair, speaking to Dean as if he were a child. Y/N snorted in amusement at this, almost coughing up some of her beer.
Dean rolled his eyes but ignored them, “You know what the best part about it is? We already know how to bring these suckers down” He smirked, holding up a silver bullet between his index finger and thumb. “One of these bad boys right to the heart” Sam and Y/N shook their heads at him as Y/N’s eyes traced his face.
When she realized she was staring a bit too hard, she cleared her throat and quickly looked away. “So, what’s our next move?” She asked, taking her feet down from Dean’s lap, “Talk to the girl who found the body” Sam answered, finishing his beer.
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The trio made their way to Madison’s apartment in hopes of getting answers to their case. “I don’t understand, i already gave my statement” Madison said, a bit of annoyance in her tone. “Right, yeah, well. We just need to verify a few things” Sam responded as they all entered her living room to see an unfamiliar man lounging on her couch.
“This is my neighbor, Glenn. Glenn, this is detective—” Madison introduced them, forgetting their names. “Landis.” Dean introduced himself using his alias. “Dante and Daniel” He added, patting Sam’s shoulder and then the small of Y/N’s back. She recoiled from the touch a little, clearing her throat. “Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it” Glenn said awkwardly, clearing his throat.
“Okay, thanks for the casserole” Madison said gratefully as Glenn made his way past her. “Mhm” Glenn blushed as he made his way to the door. “Oh, how thoughtful” Dean muttered, “Just call if you need anything” Glenn said to Madison with a small smile before leaving. “He’s sweet. He came over to check on me” Madison said to the trio with a smile.
“Have- have a seat” She offered them to take a seat at her dining room table. Y/N bit her lip slightly as she eyed the very attractive woman up and down, her eyes flickering over to Dean as she settled in a chair next to him. She noticed he was doing the same, inwardly rolling her eyes. “You must be pretty shaken up,” Sam said apologetically as he sat across from Madison.
“You were Nate Mulligan’s assistant, right?” He added, “For two years, yeah” Madison nodded, taking a deep breath. “So you knew all about him” Dean asked with a sly smirk, his eyes tracing Madison’s figure. Y/N noticed this, clenching her jaw as she unconsciously dug her nails into her thighs. “I probably knew about him more than he did,” Madison chuckled.
“Nate was— He was nice..” Madison trailed off, Y/N took note of this. “But?” She raised a brow as she questioned. “Nothing really, I…” Madison sighed, “He had a few scotches and started hitting on anyone in a five mile radius. You know the type” Madison flashed a small smile. Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Dean who had that charming panty dropping smile he always sported as Madison spoke.
“Oh trust me hun, I do” Y/N chuckled, shooting Dean a quick subtle glare before turning back to Madison. Dean’s brows furrowed at this as Sam held back a snicker of amusement, “Did uh…did he have any enemies?” Dean asked, “What do you mean? It sure looked like an animal attack” Madison asked confused.
“Oh, no. Yeah, we’re just covering all the bases. Anyone that might’ve had a beef with him? Former client, an ex?” Y/N chimed in, Sam noticed a look on Madison’s face. “What?” Sam asked, tilting his head. “Well, this is embarrassing but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt,” Madison said, rolling her eyes at the thought of him. “Kurt have a last name?” Dean asked.
“Mueller. After we broke up, he went kind of nuts. He’s….well, he’s kind of been stalking me” Madison’s gaze dropped to her hands, Y/N gave her a look of sympathy at this along with Sam. “He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I. He showed up at my office” She explained, “What happened?” Y/N asked. “Kurt got into it with Nate. Threw a punch before security grabbed him. I was lucky to keep my job”
“When was the last time you saw Kurt?” Dean asked. “A few nights ago. Actually, the night Nate died. We were all grabbing drinks at this bar and Kurt showed up” Madison explained, “And?” Y/N pried. “Nothing. Ky was like…like he was watching me. Then he was gone. To tell you the truth…he scares me” Madison responded in a low tone, her voice filled with sorrow and fear.
Y/N’s heart panged for the girl, a frown making it’s face to her face and the three hunters shared a look. “I’m sorry you’re going through this Madison, it must be so hard for you” Y/N spoke gently, reaching a hand over the table to rub Madison’s hands gently. “Thank you” Madison thanked the pair. Y/N flashed her a quick smile before withdrawing her hands, placing it in her lap.
-
“So, what do you guys think?” Dean asked as they all walked toward the Impala. “Stalker scumbag ex boyfriend. He hated the boss. And he was there that night” Sam agreed with the theory. “You think he’s our dog-faced boy?” Y/N asked. “Well, it’s a theory,” Sam shrugged as they approached the Impala. “We’ve had worse. I say we pay Kurt a visit” Dean suggested, opening the back door for Y/N before opening his.
Her heart leapt, as per usual, at the gesture as she settled into her seat. Shutting the door inwards simultaneously with the boys. “Lead the way, charming” Y/N prompted, with that, Dean peeled out of the sidewalk. Heading towards Kurt’s apartment complex, thanks to the address given to them by Madison.
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After picking the lock to Kurt's door, the trio made their way into the apartment. Immediately getting to work, Sam began going through his bookcase while Y/N took up opening the drawer and Dean, obviously, rummaging through the kitchen. “Anything?” Y/N asked, closing a drawer after finding nothing.
“Ahh, nothing but leftovers and a six pack” Dean responded, shutting the fridge. “Check the freezer” Sam suggested. “Maybe there’s some human hearts behind the Häagen-Dazs or something” He muttered, earning a snort of amusement from Y/N.
A squeaking in the distance caught their ear, drawing their attention to the veranda. Y/N paced over to it instantly, pulling the curtain aside before pushing the sliding glass door aside. The wind of the cold night hit her cheeks. She scanned her surroundings before leaning over the edge.
Her eyes widening when she notices claw marks going down the side of the building. “Fellas, come here” Y/N called out to the boys. “What?” Sam asked as he and his brother both entered the balcony. “Check it out” She stated, pointing to the claw marks. The Winchesters leaned over simultaneously besides Y/N, all three sharing a knowing look.
-
They were now back inside of Kurt’s apartment, rifling through papers when a gunshot in the distance raised all alarms in their heads. Instantly bolting into action, all running out on their toes out of the building and towards the gunshot.
Rushing into the alley, the trio scanned the area before following the sound of rushed footsteps. “This way!” Sam exclaimed in a hushed tone, the other two trailing behind him as he ran down the alley.
They made it behind the building, in an alleyway, near a dumpster to see the mauled body of a cop. His organs hanging out and his heart, most likely, missing. Y/N reupholstered her gun, along with the boys.
“Oh my god” She breathed out in a whisper, shining her flashlight down on the cop’s mutilated form. “Damn, this ain’t good. Poor bastard.” Dean muttered, placing an arm against the brick wall as he lowered his head momentarily in what seemed to be a form of respect to the fallen cop.
Y/N did the same, placing a hand against her mouth. “I’ll call 911.” Sam swallowed harshly as he fished his phone out of his pocket, scanning his surroundings. “I’d say Kurt’s looking more and more like our Cujo” Dean quipped, crouching down besides Y/N. “Guys, if he’s out here. We better check on Madison.” Sam suggested.
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Sam was now knocking on Madison’s door, when suddenly the door across the hall opened up, revealing Glenn. “What’s going on?” He asked curiously. Y/N raised a brow at the nosey man, “Police business, Glenn” Dean stated in a gruff tone. Madison’s door then opened.
“What is it?” Madison asked, pulling a robe over her shoulders. Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes flickering over to Glenn, who was still standing by his door. “Well, maybe we should talk privately,” She suggested.
-
“Has Kurt been here?” Y/N asked Madison as she poured her a cup of coffee, “Not exactly” Madison responded, moving over to pour Sam and Dean some coffee. “What exactly does ‘not exactly’ mean?” Dean chuckled. “Well, he was outside last night. Just…looking. Just looking at me” Madison sighed. This raised their concerns, “Has he done something?” Madison asked, confused.
“We’re not really sure” Sam sighed, “It’s probably nothing. But, we just don’t wanna take any chances ” Dean chimed in, a bit too eagerly. Y/N turned her attention to Dean with a raised brow as she sipped the coffee. “Infact, one of us should probably stay here with you, just in case he stops by” Dean suggested, earning an eye roll from Y/N and Sam.
There it is.
“Where does he work?” Sam asked, “He owns a body shop,” Madison told them. “You mind grabbing that address for us, hun?” Y/N smiled coyly at Madison, “Thanks” Sam muttered as Madison nodded and left the room. Dean and Y/N’s eyes trailed Madison as Sam looked between the two. “Alright, go you two. I’ll stay” Y/N suggested.
“Forget that. You guys go after the creepy ex. I’m gonna hang here with the hot chick” Dean protested in a skittish tone. Y/N gritted her teeth at him while Sam bit back a laugh, “Dude, why do you always get to hang out with the girls?!” She exclaimed while keeping her voice at bay.
“Because I’m older” Dean quipped cheekily, raising his mug to his lips. Y/N’s left eye twitched while Sam scoffed, leaning against the counter, watching the scene unfold as he sipped his own coffee. “No, fuck that. We settle this the old fashion way” She protested, placing her mug down besides Sam, raising up her right fist.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” Dean smiled cheekily, setting down his own mug. “I hate you” Y/N muttered, glaring at him, causing him to chuckle before he extended his right fist. Y/N shot Sam a quick look, causing him to shrug his shoulders before turning back to Dean.
They banged their fists against their palms three times, both with their game faces on. Y/N hit rock as Dean hit scissors. Dean scoffed as Sam chuckled, “Dean, always with the scissors” Sam muttered into his mug as Y/N smirked victoriously, patting Dean’s shoulders. “Shut up. Shut up. Two out of three” Dean protested.
Y/N rolled her eyes again, retracting her hands from his shoulders, sighing before extending her fist again. They banged their fists against their hands three times again. Resulting in the same as before, Dean grunted as Y/N smashed her fist against his two fingers. “God!” He growled.
Y/N smirked coyly, raising her chin as she looked Dean in the eye, holding his angry gaze intensely. That is, until a cough was heard from behind Dean. Turning their attention to Sam, who now had his fist up, to go against Y/N. “You have a girlfriend!” Y/N shot at him, glaring at the younger Winchester.
“Jo’s not my girlfriend.” Sam retorted. “Yet” Dean coughed. Sam shot him a nasty sideeye at this, “I’m not even interested in Madison like that.” Sam scoffed. “She doesn’t need someone to try to put her to bed, she needs someone to protect her.” He further defended before gesturing between Dean and Y/N.
“And you two bozos only think with your parts in your pants. Now, game” Sam raised his fist again, tilting his head with his defensive statement, challenging Y/N. Rolling her eyes, Y/N accepted Sam’s challenge, extending her fist out towards him while Dean took a step back, sipping his coffee as he watched with a glint of enjoyment, silently praying she lost.
The pair of best friends banged their fists against their palms three times simultaneously. They both revealed their chosen items. Resulting in rock for Y/N and the scissors for Sam. “Fuck!” Y/N groaned. Sam chuckled out in amusement with a fist pump. Dean’s smirk grew wider as he glanced between Sam and Y/N.
She clenched her jaw with frustration, glaring fiercely at Sam. “Come on, y/n/n. It’s not the end of the world.” Sam teased, causing her to roll her eyes and give him the middle finger. “Best two out of three” She grumbled, putting up her fist again, Dean rolled his eyes but stayed silent.
“Bring it on,” Sam grinned. They banged their fists against their palms three times before they both revealed their chosen items. Rock for Sam and paper for Y/N. “Ha!” Sam barked, punching the air triumphantly as Y/N cursed under her breath again.
“I hate you both” Y/N mumbled before taking a gulp of her coffee, placing the mug back down on the counter. “I know” The brothers both said in sync, resulting in Y/N flipping them both off before snatching Dean by his hand, dragging him towards the exit. “Bundle up out there!” Sam mocked them as Y/N pulled open the door, his hand still wrapped around Dean’s wrist.
He mouthed a quick, ‘Thank you’ to his little brother, receiving a firm thumbs up and tight lipped smile in return.
Once they were outside, Y/N slipped her hand from Dean’s wrist, she tried not to show her disappointment. Instead, opting to glare at the floor as they left the building and approached the Impala. “Keys” She put her hand out, gesturing for him to give him the keys to Baby.
Dean rolled his eyes dramatically but without protesting, he pulled them out of his jacket pocket and placed them in the palm of her hand. It felt like his fingers lingered a little too long against her skin but she said nothing of it. They both climbed into the Impala, she started the engine with a hum.
As she revved it, Dean leaned his head against the window. His eyes roaming over Y/N and she put the Impala in drive, a sight he never saw often, but oddly enough, he loved seeing her behind his wheel. Y/N took in the sounds and the smell of the Impala. Something which always calmed her mind, it was almost like therapy. Mainly because it smelt like Dean, then pulled out of the parking spot.
-
It was now the next morning, a very tired Sam sat at Madison’s dining room table. Gently slapping his face to keep himself awake as Madison approached behind him, sifting through letters from her mail slot.
Sam’s eyes glanced up at her as Madison turned to him. Their eyes connecting, Sam quickly cleared his throat and gave the pretty girl a tight timid smile. “Um, do you wanna sit on the couch?” She asked, “No. nono. I’m okay” Sam assured her. “It's more comfortable,” She suggested.
“Aw, I’m fine” He chuckled, waving it off. Madison flashed Sam a coy smile, nodding before heading over to her laundry room.
A few moments after, Madison emerged with a basket of her undergarments pressed to her hip. She then made her way over to the dining room table, emptying out dozens of her panties right in front of Sam before picking up a very lacy sexy one, folding it directly in his eyesight.
Sam cleared his throat, averting his gaze away from the blue lacy panties and instead, his gaze dropped onto his hands, his mind wandering back to Jo. “You know what? I think I will sit on the couch” He cleared his throat awkwardly, scuffling away from the table before moving away to the couch.
He sat down with his hands clasped in front of him as Madison bit back a smile. The ringing of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. Silently thanking god for getting him out of the awkward situation. Sam quickly took his phone out of his pocket, clicking the answer button before pressing it to his ear.
“Let me guess, you’re sitting on her couch like a stiff, your mind stuck on Jo because you’re in an apartment with a pretty girl and you can’t do jackshit about it” Y/N’s amused voice chimed through the phone.
“Shut up” Sam muttered in response with a faint eye roll. He was a little embarrassed due to the fact that Y/N’s words were entirely accurate. “Did you find Kurt?” He asked, changing the subject.
Dean and Y/N were walking out of the body shop, the phone on speaker as Y/N held it. Dean chimed in, “He hasn’t been at work all week. But because we’re good and I mean really, really good. We got a like on where he might be” Cockiness dripping from his tone as they made their way to the Impala.
Dean opened the driver’s side door for Y/N so she could settle in before making his way to the passenger side, climbing in beside her. She handed the phone to Dean, who was shutting his own door as she started the ignition, “What’s she wearing?” Dean quipped to Sam with an amused smile.
His words earned him an annoyed, “Bye Dean” From his brother along with a thump to the head by Y/N. Dean cackled as the line went dead, gripping his head where she smacked him. “You're such an ass sometimes” Y/N muttered to Dean who snickered in response, as she pulled out of the lot.
"Yeah, well you're just jealous that you don't have my charm" Dean grinned at her. "Your charm only works on girls. Mine works on both" Y/N shot back, a small smirk played on her lips as Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever" He muttered but she noticed his lip twitch slightly in amusement.
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Back in Madison’s apartment, Sam was still on the couch. A bit more relaxed, he tensed up slightly when Madison plopped on the couch next to him. Picking up the TV remote from the coffee table in front of them to turn on the set. He sighed deeply, an amused smile crossing his face when the 70’s soap opera, All My Children started playing.
Sam bit back a snort, clearing his throat when Madison’s eyes snapped over to him. “I heard that” Madison quipped, “What? Saw what?” Sam played dumb, biting back his smile. “Okay, this is the deal. My house, my TV.” She shot back with a friendly smile as Sam allowed himself to laugh.
He then glanced at Madison to see a small smile on her face, “I never get to watch my show. So suck it up.” She said firmly. Sam bit his tongue, "Fine. Your house, your TV. I get it. Okay” Sam muttered, trying to contain his small smile. The two sat in comfortable silence as they watched the scene play out on the screen.
-
A couple hours have passed and the few episodes they watched have come to an end. Sam stared dumbfounded at the TV, seemingly having been engrossed in the show. “Wait, so Kendall married Ethan’s father just to get back at him?!” He gasped theratically. Madison nodded, giggling at the expression on his face.
“Yep. And now she’s set to inherit all the casinos that were supposed to go to Ethan.” She explained, “What a bitch” Sam scoffed, shaking his head. When he realized how engrossed he was in the show, he cleared his throat again as Madison shot him a knowing look. The two burst out laughing, “Admit it, you’re hooked!” She cackled, smacking his arm lightly.
“No, no, no. I wouldn’t say I’m hooked” Sam quickly protested but his words died in his throat, erupting in laughter again. “Can I ask you a question? It’s- its- a little personal?” Sam asked timidly, turning to her, “You’ve seen my entire underwear collection. Go ahead” She responded a bit smugly.
“Okay, uh-” Sam began. "Well, you’re… You’re clearly smart. I mean, your house is full of great books, you know? And, you’re independent.." He said, “Uh-huh” Madison hummed. “No offense. But what were you doing with Kurt?” He asked curiously. His tone was gentle, not at all harsh or confrontational.
Madison’s brow furrowed at this, thinking for a bit. "I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like he introduced himself like: ‘Hi, I’m possessive and controlling, and I like to punch people. Wanna be my girlfriend?’ " Madison mused, the two chuckling. “Yeah, well, I guess we all make mistakes” Sam sighed, “Yeah, well mine’s wanted by the police” Madison snorted as Sam shook his head.
“You wanna know why I stayed with him? Really?” Sam gestured for her to continue, Madison took a breath before propping her elbow on the back of the couch. “I was too insecure to leave,” She said honestly. “I find that hard to believe, I mean, you don’t really seem like the type” Sam stated honestly.
“Yeah, well. Some stuff happened. My life changed. I changed for the better, I think” She sighed, the smile still on her face, “What happened?” Sam asked concerned. “Well, for one thing, I got mugged” She shrugged, still smiling. “And that’s supposed to be a good thing?” Sam snorted, shaking his head. “I know, it sounds strange. And don’t get me wrong, it rattled me” She chuckled, leaning closer to him.
Sam gulped, pulling back a little as she spoke. “Then it hit me: I could keep feeling sorry for myself, or I could take control of my life. And I chose the latter” She stated, Sam nodded, looking at the woman with admiration. “First thing I did was tell Kurt that he had to go,” She added. “Smart move” Sam smiled.
“Apparently. Everything else just opened, blossomed. It’s all been wonderful, really.” Madison responded as Sam shook his head with a small smile. “What? Doesn’t everyone else think that being a victim of random violence is the best thing that ever happened to them?” Madison joked, earning a chuckle from Sam.
“Yeah, not so much” He snorted. “You’re…unusual” He choked, internally facepalming himself at his choice in words. Madison tilted her head, amused. “Unusual like…unusual?” She joked, making a ‘coo-coo’ sign at her head. “No, no, no. Nonono” Sam chuckled. “Unusual, like….impressive” He complimented. “You think so?” Madison blushed as Sam nodded.
"Okay, I have a question for you," Madison piped up. "Uh huh." Sam smiled, "How come someone like you is still single? I mean… It’s insane” Madison confessed to him. "I, um… I’m not really- I think- uh...." Sam said, ducking his head down and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, his mind wandering back to Jo.
"Oh, I get it” Madison grinned, “There’s someone else, huh? Come on, who is she?” She pried, teasingly nudging him. Sam bit his lip, raising his head to meet her gaze, “Uh, She’s…well, she’s special” He confessed fondly. "Aw, that’s so cute!" She teased, nudging him again.
Sam rolled his eyes but smiled at her, "She’s badass. Total badass. She could kick my ass if she wanted to. And she’s pretty smart too" He said fondly. Madison noticed the look on his face, "Ooh, so, does this badass lady have a name?" She joked. "Well…she- her name's Jo" Sam confessed, smiling to himself.
“Well, before we get into that. Accept my deepest apologies for tossing my panties out in front of you. I assumed you were single” Madison apologized, pressing one of her palms to her chest. "Hey, no biggie. I've seen- well, weirder" He chuckled, "Plus, Dean or Y/N probably would have liked that" Sam teased, earning a snort from Madison.
Madison nodded before she continued, "So, you and Jo are…?" She trailed off, "Complicated. But it’s alright. We’re getting there” Sam shrugged, smiling at the thought of Jo. "Complicated, how?” Madison asked with a small frown. "Well, we uh…" Sam rubbed the back of his neck, looking off to the side.
He couldn’t believe he was talking about this with someone else. He talked to Y/N about Jo, only to receive a tap along with, ‘Man up and ask Jo to be your girlfriend already.’ Meanwhile, Dean told him to ‘Lay another kiss on her and take her to nookietown.’
"It’s all good, you can tell me” Madison smiled, Sam let out a breath he held before giving her a small smile of his own. "Well, it’s just…we haven’t really said anything to each other about our feelings yet” He confessed to Madison, his smile growing wider.
“We talk a lot and uh, well. When we first met, she caught my eye but my brother was flirting with her. So I kinda let it die…and then, something bad happened and I felt like I was gonna lose my mind when I couldn’t find her. Then we had a falling out- family stuff.” He vaguely explained the events of Holmes capturing Jo to Ellen telling her about the hunt that went sideways with their dads.
“Then we made up, became friends, grew closer over the time and uh…we kissed recently” His cheeks flared at the thought. "You kissed her?" Madison repeated with a surprised brow raised. “Well, uh- she more kissed me,” Sam confessed, running a hand through his hair.
“Not that I didn’t want it!” He quickly stated, “I did. Obviously. But I don’t know if she’s gonna want something serious…you know? I tried relationships in the past and they…well…I end up losing the people I love” He sighed, an aching pain grew heavy in his chest.
"I’m so sorry, Sam” Madison frowned, offering Sam a small sympathetic smile, which he appreciated, “And, well. You don’t have to listen to me, but I think you should shoot your shot. Man up and ask her to be your girlfriend” Madison encouraged Sam with a wide smile, trying to lighten the mood. Sam burst out into laughter at this, “You sound like my sister” He snorted, shaking his head.
“My brother, and I quote, told me to ‘lay another kiss on her and take her to nookietown’ or whatever the fuck that means” Sam scoffed, quoting Dean’s words. "Well, looks like I have their support then” Madison joked with a smirk. As Sam calmed his laughter, a faint smile played on his lips, she was right.
Maybe he should man up and ask her. He felt more confident with her words of assurance, and honestly glad that he was able to discuss it with somebody else other than Dean and Y/N.
"You know? You’re actually really easy to open up to" Sam said suddenly with wide eyes, surprised by his own ease, "Sorry, that came out wrong" He apologized quickly. Madison laughed lightly, shaking her head, “No, it’s okay. It was a sweet thought” Madison stated honestly.
They smiled at each other for a moment, a comfortable silence filled the air between them. Their eyes drifted to the TV to watch a commercial before the ringing of his phone snapped them out of their own thoughts. “One second” He muttered to Madison, putting up a finger politely before pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey,” Sam answered.
“We found him” Sam heard Y/N’s voice echo in the phone along with rock music in the background. The Hunter was currently in a strip club leaning against a stage as a stripper danced around a pole. A coy smile played on her face as she watched with amazement, lust and respect at the way the woman worked her body around the pile.
“Good, don’t take your eyes off him." Sam instructed as Y/N’s eyes flickered over to Kurt, who was at another end of the stage, sipping a beer. "Oh, yeah. My eyes are glued” Y/N remarked, holding up a $10 bill for the stripper. “Look, Sammy, I- uh- I gotta go” She cleared her throat as the stripper took the bill from her hand.
“I don’t wanna miss anything” She said smugly as before hanging up the phone. Dean exited the bathroom in the club, zipping up his pants as his eyes flickered over to Y/N, who was still pressed up against the stage. Ogling the nearly naked stripper.
"Goddamn it, Y/N" Dean muttered, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. He felt a familiar flare in his chest, wiping off his wet hands on his jeans before striding over to her. "What are you doing? Come on, focus” Dean huffed, snapping his fingers in front of her face before dragging Y/N away from the stage.
She grunted in protest as Dean pulled her along to the bar, a small smirk playing on his lips. “We’re supposed to be watching Kurt, not Cinnamon,” Dean scoffed, ordering two beers. “You’re kidding me, right?” Y/N snorted, “You? Dean Winchester, are in a strip club and you’re not looking at a stripper?” She laughed, shaking her head.
"I’m not an animal, Y/N" Dean scoffed, raising his brow as the beers arrived in front of them. Y/N rolled her eyes, "You just asked Sam a couple hours ago, and I quote, ‘What’s she wearing?’ about Madison” Y/N deadpanned, her eyes diverting back to Kurt, who was still sitting near the stage as she picked up her beer, settling on one of the bar stools.
"Okay, you got me" He raised his hands in defeat, a small chuckle escaped his lips. He took a large gulp of his beer, his tongue tracing his bottom lip to catch the few droplets that dribbled out the corner of his mouth. It didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, who bit her lip at the sight, glancing back over at Kurt with narrowed eyes.
"So, what’s the plan here? Or are we just gonna tail him all night?” Y/N asked him, her finger tracing over the rim of her beer bottle. Dean raised a brow, his eyes following the movement of her finger before he shifted in his seat, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes away from her hand.
"Yep" Dean stated, raising his beer up to his lips again. He stole a quick peek at Y/N, who was glancing back over at the stage once again. Her eyes wandering over the stage and all of the working strippers, her legs subconsciously tightening from all of the erotic images.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t thinking the same, having to tear his eyes away from the strippers himself. "Y/N" Dean called out to her in an exasperated huff, snapping her out of her thoughts. "What?" She asked curiously after downing a gulp of beer. "Stop drooling over the strippers" He pointed a finger at her accusingly.
"I wasn’t drooling over anyone, asshat. I was observing the talent and the way they work their body around the pole” She explained casually as he bit back a snort. "Sure, sure you weren’t nutcase" He muttered, sipping his beer as he shook his head at her response. “Honestly, I think strippers are badass” She stated, leaning back on the bar.
"How so?" He asked curiously, his brow raised in interest. Y/N smirked at this, biting the inside of her cheek, "Well, I’m glad you asked" She cleared her throat, shifting around on the bar stool, leaning against the bar.
“They’re strong, obviously. I mean, it takes a helluva lot of strength for us to do pull ups. Imagine doing that all night on a pole. And the creeps, they’ve gotta defend themselves from handsy assholes who think just because they have an erotic job, they can touch them if they wanna. Plus, they’re making their own dough. I respect it” Y/N explained with a shrug.
Dean thought for a few moments as he let her words sink in, "Yeah, you’re right" He stated honestly, nodding approvingly. "Plus, they can dance. I couldn’t dance even if someone held a gun to my face" He pointed out, earning a snort from Y/N. “Yeah, I know” She laughed, nudging him playfully.
"Oh, so you’re saying you could do it?" Dean chuckled, raising his brow as a smirk grew on his lips. “Ah, yeah” She scoffed as if it was obvious. "Come on, no way you can dance" He chuckled, a challenging look in his eyes, “I can!” She defended. "Prove it" He gestured to the dance floor.
Y/N bit her lip, holding his gaze for a moment before she finally pulled away with a soft snort as she finished off the rest of her beer. "Fine" She sighed, taking the chance to show him that she can in fact dance. So she snatched Dean by his arm, his eyes widening in surprise when she pulled him onto the dancefloor.
Dean allowed her to drag him along, laughing as Y/N turned around to smirk at him. She began swaying her hips to the music, her eyes closed as she got into a groove. ‘Shakin’ Hands’ by Nickelback filled the club's walls.
Dean was amused, to say the least, he laughed heartily while his eyes followed the swaying of her hips. She was, in fact, a great dancer. It was really surprising.
‘She ain’t no Cinderella when she’s getting undressed.’
‘Cause she rocks it like the naughty wicked witch of the west’
"Show me what you got Winchester!" She yelled above the music, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk before spinning around to face him. Without a word, she placed her hands on his shoulders, guiding his hands to her hips. He let her guide his hands, gently gripping her sides as the both rocked back and forth together.
From time to time, their eyes would glance back over to Kurt, making sure he was still in place but at this moment, it was hard for them to focus on the task. Though, being the trained hunters they are, they multitasked pretty well.
They didn’t realize how long they were dancing, they were too caught up with each other to care. All that mattered was the feel of her body pressed against his, the way he held onto her hips as if his life depended on it. Their bodies swayed together, seemingly moving like the waves of the ocean.
They leaned into each other’s touch, their nose’s grazing against one another’s every so often.
She bit her lip, hesitating for a moment as her eyes flickered down to his lips. His lips were oh-so-close. His pupils darted between her lips and her eyes, "You sure know how to dance, princess" Dean said in a low tone as his hands traveled along her lower back. Y/N’s breath hitched with a shiver.
The feeling of his calloused hands sent goosebumps along her skin, she felt a familiar ache begin to form in between her legs. Her eyes traveled down to his plump lips and back up to his eyes. "You’re not so bad yourself, charming" She whispered to him, her hands traveling up his hard chest slowly.
They were so close to one another, all they would need to do is lean in and their lips would be pressed together. Dean could feel her soft breaths against his skin, her intoxicating scent of her coconut shampoo and the tobacco from her last cigarette half an hour ago was filling his nostrils.
Y/N felt his eyes wander down to her lips, the thought of his lips against her made her stomach flutter in anticipation. This made her mind wander back to her dream from weeks ago of Dean’s lips roaming her body. A pleasant and familiar warmth spreading through her southern region.
Dean’s grip on her hips tightened somewhat, causing her to let out a barely audible gasp. Y/N allowed her hand to travel up the nape of his nape, threading the hair at the back of his head between her fingers. Dean reveled in her touch, holding back a moan from the way her hand ran along his neck, his heart was pounding out of his chest at Y/N’s sudden move and burst in confidence.
Dean Winchester was sporting a rock hard erection that was straining against the confines of his jeans, luckily, Y/N pulled away before she could feel it press against her because at the corner of her eye, she saw Kurt getting up from near the stage, paying his bill and making his way to the exit.
Dean didn’t seem to notice, being too drawn on tracing her features with his eyes but when he noticed she looked away, he followed the direction her gaze was directed in.
"He’s leaving!" Y/N exclaimed, when it registered in her head, breaking away from him. At that moment, Dean cleared his throat, "Oh, yeah. Right” He said out of breath, blinking away the fog of lust as Y/N took off after Kurt. He quickly reached into his pants to adjust himself before he followed behind her and they rushed outside of the club after their suspect, the cool night air hitting their face.
____________________________________________
They eventually caught up to Kurt and ended up trailing him back to his apartment. Waiting for the moon to fully set in and for him to wolf out. They were both currently leaned up against a dumpster in the alleyway where they found the dead cop yesterday with a direct view of his veranda.
“Jesus Christ, how long does this take?” Y/N mumbled frustrated while loading up their guns with a round each of silver bullets. A cigarette tucked between her lips. Dean had binoculars up to his eyes, keeping his sights on Kurt’s balcony at the far end of the alleyway.
"Patience, sweetheart" Dean reminded her, his voice rough due to them being up all night after not getting much sleep in days. And both very sexually frustrated…for obvious reasons. He could hear her mumble under her breath a smart remark in response.
He ignored it and carried on. “He must have been too tired from turning last night" He theorized, checking his watch with a scoff, "It’s been over an hour already" His brow twitched, watching Y/N take a puff of her cigarette. He’d been keeping his eyes on her the entire night.
His mind kept reliving the moment they were dancing together, the way she was so close to him made him shiver. His thoughts were interrupted by Y/N lighting another cigarette and cursing to herself. The pent up sexual frustration along with her impatience was riding on every part of her body.
“Goddamn it, I don’t know about you but this is seriously pissing me off” Y/N complained, crossing her arms over her chest with a huff. She bit her lip, her mind keeping going back to the heated moment they shared. Her legs were still throbbing, her core still aching, she felt like she was about to combust, and being so close to him the whole night didn’t help her condition at all.
His eyes flickered back up to her eyes and then down to the stick tucked between her fingers. She turned her attention to Dean, noticing his gaze was trapped on the stick wedged between her fingers.
“Want a taste?" She offered playfully, holding her half lit cigarette out for Dean's taking. Without a word, he leaned his head down slightly, capturing the tip of the bud between his lips.
She watched in amusement when he immediately leaned down, taking a slow drag from the tip that was still wedged between her fingers. His lip left a feathering touch on her fingers. He made quite the effort to prolong the contact, which Y/N was enjoying way too much.
When he pulled back, he blew the smoke out of his nose and a satisfied hum of tobacco filled his lungs. "Thanks” He murmured gruffly, a smug look on his face. Y/N nodded in return, taking another drag herself, trying to ignore heat rushing between her legs.
A loud crash of glass shattered from somewhere above their heads caught their attention, their eyes snapped to see the curtains fall. "What the fuck" Dean muttered, in surprise. "About damn time" Y/N stated as she handed Dean his gun. They both placed their safety off. Their eyes connected, both giving each other a firm nod in agreement.
They rushed into the building and quickly made their way up the stairs before finally reaching the third floor. Their breathing was a little heavier than before and their hands were gripping on their guns like their lives depended on it. Dean tried opening the door but it was locked, he went to raise his foot to kick it inwards but Y/N beat him to the punch.
Raising her hand towards the door, her eyes flashed over white as the tips of her fingers turned aqua blue, once again. The door flew off its hinges, a loud crash erupted in the silence of the hallway. Dean’s eyes flickered between her and the door that was now in pieces, “Show off” He muttered, earning an eye roll from Y/N.
Their steps were light and swift as they quietly walked inside of the apartment, aiming their guns around the room. The windows were now busted open, the curtains billowing around them from the wind. They heard nothing, nothing but their own breathing but that was until they heard the soft growl of an animal.
Their heads snapped towards the sound coming from the left side of the apartment. They stormed into the master bedroom to see a slender familiar figure hovering over Kurt’s corpse, clawing away into his chest cavity at his heart. Their eyes were wide in shock as the creature turned to face them in a snap, eyes wild and blue. Madison snarled at them, attacking Y/N before she could react.
She harshly pushed Y/N into Dean, disarming them both of their guns. The two hunters went flying back into the wall with the powerful superhuman strength Madison displayed. Dean’s head hit the concrete wall, knocking him unconscious immediately.
So Madison turned her attention to a dazzled Y/N, attempting to claw at her but the hunter reacted quickly. Sending a wave of power from hand at Madison, who went flying back just a few feet. Y/N held her head, her vision blurred from the knock she received to her head, trying to scramble for her gun but Madison was quick to the punch, kicking the gun away before Y/N could reach it.
She straddled Y/N again, she reached out, trying to summon the gun to her hands but she was too weak to muster up the power. So she reacted in the only way she could, stabbing Madison in her forearm with her silver butterfly knife that was luckily lodged into her jacket pocket.
Madison let out a bloodcurdling scream, clawing at the wound before backhanding Y/N, knocking her unconscious before narrowly escaping through the broken balcony glass door.
____________________________________________
Dean woke just as the sun was rising with a dull thud through his skull, an uncomfortable groan escaping his lips as he sat up. A small bruise was already beginning to form on the back of his head from the knock into the wall. He sat up slowly with a hiss, his vision blurry and black dots danced across his vision.
Pushing the dizziness from his head with a heavy grunt, his eyes immediately searched the room for Y/N, who was still unconscious, sprawled out on the floor with blood dripping down her nose. His heart dropped in his chest as he scrambled over to her.
"Y/N! Y/N! Come on, princess, wake up! I need you to wake up!" He lightly shook her shoulders, checking every inch of her to see if she had any other injuries.
Y/N stirred softly, whimpering a little but began to wake. Her eyelids fluttered a few times before being shot open, her eyes wide. She quickly sat up, groaning a little as she felt a rush of pain to her head.
"Thank god" Dean breathed a sigh of relief, pulling her in for a hug as he buried his face into the crook in her neck. Y/N took a moment before fully coming to her senses, registering where she was. She hugged him back weakly, “What the fuck?” She groaned.
Dean pulled away, cupping her face in his hands as his eyes wandered over her, inspecting her further. Using his thumb to wipe away some of the blood from her nose, “We need to call, Sam,” Dean said urgently, remembering his brother was ‘protecting’ a freaking werewolf.
He took his phone out, hurriedly dialing in Sam's number, pressing the phone to his ear as he waited for an answer. “God that chick was strong” Y/N groaned, as Dean wrapped his arm around her waist and helped her to her feet with one hand, his phone pressed to his ear with the other. "Yeah, I'll say" He muttered, "She hit like fucking a tank" Y/N commented with a shaky breath.
But Sam hadn't answered yet, "Come on, Sammy" Dean muttered to himself impatiently. "Guys, you okay?" Sam finally answered the phone. Dean quickly put it on speaker, pressing his head to Y/N’s forehead, which was hot to the touch. She swayed a bit on her feet, still groggy. "Yeah, now that we’re conscious.” Dean groaned. “The werewolf knocked us out. Sam, it’s Madison" Dean explained.
“What?” Sam gasped, rushing over to Madison’s room. “Yeah, awesome fucking job at keeping an eye on her” Dean quipped sarcastically, as Y/N groaned again from the striking pain in her head. Sam pushed in the door to see Madison asleep in her bed. “Dean, Y/N. I’ve been here the whole time. She’s in bed, asleep” Sam told them. “Well, she wasn’t a few hours ago.” Y/N snapped.
“Check her right arm below her elbow. I nicked her with my silver butterfly knife” Y/N instructed him. With that Sam hung up, turning back to Madison who was now stirring awake. “Morning” Madison greeted Sam with a yawn, his eyes flickered down to her right arm to see a gash exactly where Y/N said it would be.
Madison gasped when she realized she was naked, “Um, where are my pajamas?” She asked Sam, who’s eyes darkened, bile rising in his throat. He immediately made his way over to her front door. “Sam? What’s going on?” Madison called out to him, using the blanket to cover her body. “Where are you going?!” She called out as Sam locked her door from the inside.
“I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you” Sam narrowed his eyes at her, as fear crossed her features.
-
Madison was now dressed and Sam had his own gun with silver bullets in his hand, his arms crossed as he glared at Madison. Leaning on the dining room table while she sat tied to one of her chairs, “You're psychotic” Madison sobbed, “The whole ‘I’m a cop’ trio. God, I am so stupid!” Madison scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well I guess neither of us are who we said we were, huh?” Sam sassed.
“Sam, you’re sick, okay? You’re imagining things. Monsters don’t exist, not really” Madison sobbed, she seemed sincere but Sam refused to buy it. “You know what? Save the act” Sam cut her off with a stern tone as he paced across the room. “It’s not an act! I am not a werewolf. There is no such thing!” Madison sobbed as she defended herself.
“They’re not real! You know they’re not real!” Sam’s head snapped towards her as he strided back over, lowering himself to point at her wound below her elbow with his gun. “No?! Then where did that come from?!” He shouted in her face. She turned to him with a tear filled face. “I don’t know, Sam! God, you need help. Please, don’t do something that you’re gonna regret” Madison pleaded.
Sam's eyes darkened as he stared down at the wound, anger flaring up in the pit of his stomach. This girl was either in full denial or she truly did not know what she was. But Sam couldn’t think about that. For now, she was a threat that needed to be contained one way or another.
The woman seemed sincere in her words, hesitation crossing his face. “I’m not what you think I am. I’m not” Her voice broke as a knocking at the door caught Sam’s attention. He broke his gaze away from her, padding over to the door. He pulled it open to reveal Dean and Y/N, they both nodded at Sam as they entered.
“How you doing? My head feels great, thanks” Dean quipped sarcastically as Y/N glared at Madison, who was shaking in her confines of being tied to the chair. “We gotta talk” Sam whispered to them, gesturing for them to follow them into the kitchen. They nodded in unison before following behind him.
“She says she has no idea what I’m talking about,” Sam told them. Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s lying” Y/N stated the obvious. “Or maybe she doesn’t know she’s changing. Maybe when the creature takes over, she blacks out” Sam suggested. “Like a really hot Incredible Hulk?” Dean commented.
“Come on, dude. She ganked her boss and her ex-boyfriend. That doesn’t sound rash and unconscious” Dean further stated. “Yeah, but what if it was, guys?” Sam defended. “I mean, what if some animal part of her brain saw both those guys as threats. Hell, the cop too” He further protested. “What are you? The dog whisperer now?” Y/N sassed.
Sam rolled his eyes at this, “Look, man. I just-” Sam began pacing the kitchen. “I don’t know, there was something in her eyes” He tried to explain but Dean and Y/N looked at him as if he were crazy. “Yeah, she’s killing people!” Dean shot back. “But if she has no control over it!”
“Exactly, she can’t control it! Look even if she’s telling the truth, it’s not gonna change anything” Y/N cut Sam off, her cold tone sending a shock down Sam’s spine. She was usually so kind and compassionate but it was a whole different side to her when monsters were involved.
“I’m not putting a bullet through some girl's chest who has no idea what’s happening!” Sam defended again, trying to keep their voices at bay. “Sam, she’s a monster and you’re feeling sorry for her?!” Dean argued. “Maybe I understand her” Sam retorted, this made Dean's face drop and Y/N’s heart pound.
“Look. There might be another way we can get the job done without having to waste her” Sam suggested before moving to the counter where John’s journal was sitting. Dean and Y/N shared a knowing look at Sam’s statement before turning to him.
“Are you thinking what we think you’re thinking?” Y/N said. “Dad’s theory: Lycanthropy might have a cure if you kill the werewolf who bit you, severing the bloodline” Sam read from the journal, “Might have a cure. Meaning, who the hell knows?” Dean retorted. “It’s worth a shot!” Sam defended.
“We don’t even know where to start looking! Alright? I mean the puppy that bit her could be anyone, anywhere. It could’ve been years ago” Y/N exclaimed as Dean nodded along in agreement. Sam went silent for a few seconds before something clicked in his head. “No, I don’t think so” He muttered, placing the book back down before opening the door that led to Madison’s living room.
“Madison. When were you mugged?” He asked the girl gently, kneeling beside her. Madison glared at Sam through tear filled eyes, not uttering a word. “Please, it's important, alright? Just answer the question” Sam pleaded as Dean and Y/N shot daggers at Madison with their stares. “About a month ago” Madison hesitated to answer.
“Did you see the guy?” Sam asked. “No. Grabbed me from behind” Madison shook her head, y/n realized where Sam was going with the questions. “Did he bite you?” She asked, Madison tilted her head in confusion at the female hunter. “How did you know that?” Her brows furrowed, Y/N’s eyes widened, darting over to the boys.
“Where?” Sam asked urgently. “O-on the back of my neck” Madison stuttered, Sam nodded before holding up his gun and placing it on the dining room table beside him. He got up and walked around Madison’s chair to pull back her hair, revealing the healed over bite wound. “Well, that’s just a love bite. Believe me, that could’ve been a lot worse” Dean commented.
Y/N shot a glare at Dean’s comment, he sheepishly shrugged back. "Where were you at the time?” Y/N asked. “Walking home from a friend’s loft,” Madison answered. “Let me guess: Not too far from Hunter’s Point?” Sam further questioned. Madison nodded at this, still shocked at how they knew.
-
Sam shut the door that led to Madison’s kitchen, “Same place where those other murders happened. I’m telling you guys, it’s a werewolf’s hunting grounds” Sam insisted, turning to Dean and Y/N. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be out tonight” Dean stated. “It’s the right time in the lunar cycle” Y/N stated, Dean shot her a glare.
“You’re not buying into this crap, are you?” Dean scoffed, making her put her hands up in defense. “I’m not! I’m just stating” Y/N defended. “Look, I know it’s a long shot.” Sam sighed. “Okay, but you’re forgetting something. Maddy’s probably gonna turn soon, alright? We can't just let her take off to an all-you-can-eat buffet” Dean stated. “I’ll stay with her,” Sam shrugged.
“And if she busts loose?” Y/N asked, Sam hesitated for a second, tearing his gaze away from her. “Sam” Dean groaned. “I’ll do it,” Sam mumbled. Dean and Y/N shared a knowing look at this, Sam clearly bonded with Madison so they didn’t trust that he would actually put her down if he had to. “Sam” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him.
“I’ll shoot her, alright?” Sam’s gaze met hers, the hesitancy clear in his eyes. “But, guys. I need you two to go out there. At least, go look for the thing” Sam pleaded, Y/N sighed as Dean rolled his eyes. “Guys, please. We can save this girl.” Sam begged, Y/N’s eyes softened at his tone, understanding where he was coming from.
Knowing that if it were Sam or Jo in this situation, hell, even Dean, she’d do what she can to save her friends. “Fine” Y/N nodded, “What?!” Dean huffed. Y/N placed a hand on his chest, cutting him off. “We’re going, Dean” Y/N stated firmly, making Dean shut up immediately.
Sam’s eyes filled with relief as Y/N spoke, “Good,” Sam nodded. Y/N turned to Sam, “Promise us that you won’t be a dumbass” She stated as a matter of fact. Sam nodded, “I’ll shoot her if I have to” Sam’s voice softened at his words. "Promise" Y/N demanded firmly, Sam exhaled and nodded.
“I promise” He said sincerely, “Good” Y/N stated before making her way towards the door with Dean in tow. Y/N turned back and looked at Sam once more, giving him a small smile before following Dean out the door.
Once they got in the Impala, Dean sat down behind the wheel as Y/N sat down in the passenger seat. She buckled herself in before Dean peeled out of the parking lot.
“I can’t believe you’re on board with this,” Dean grumbled, Y/N rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, shut up” She shot back, leaning her head on the window of the car. “You’re crazy for going along with this” Dean protested, Y/N shifted herself to face him.
“I get it, okay? If it were you in that chair, I’d do everything I could to save your ass” She shot back defiantly. Dean’s eyes widened for a brief moment before he quickly hid his surprise. He was taken aback by Y/N’s statement, but quickly regained his composure.
“You would?” He asked, “Duh, dumbass” Y/N rolled her eyes once again at his question. The car fell into a brief silence as Y/N turned back to look out her window once more. However, she wasn’t able to keep it silent for long. “And what’d you do if the roles were switched, huh?” She asked, her voice softer than before.
Dean tensed at her question. He knew exactly what Y/N was asking, and he also knew that he would do the same without hesitation. But he was too stubborn to admit it aloud. "Come on, just answer the question" Y/N’s tone was still soft, as she kept her gaze out the window.
After a few moments of silence, the only sound being the rumble of the car's engine, he finally spoke up. "You know the answer already," He mumbled, his voice low but firm. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his response, the words bringing a small grin to her face.
Despite his best efforts, he couldn't bring himself to lie. "Just wanted to make sure" She teased, causing him to give her a half-hearted glare. The silence that followed was much more comfortable than before, as both Dean and Y/N were lost in their own thoughts.
The only noise that could be heard was the hum of the Impala's engine. Y/N continued to stare out the window, lost in her own thoughts, as Dean kept his focus on the dark road ahead.
____________________________________________
Hunter’s Point
It was later that night, Dean and Y/N were surveilling Hunter’s Point. Parked near a bar where they assumed the werewolves hung out. The place was a shithole, it was an old dive bar that probably hadn't been renovated in years.
There were a couple of sketchy-looking dudes hanging out outside, and the neon sign flickered menacingly above the entrance. They had a clear view of it from their location, and they were keeping a close eye on the crowd that entered and left the establishment.
They were getting bored, now playing rock paper scissors while waiting for anyone who even looked remotely suspicious to exit the bar. “You’re cheating” Dean protested as Y/N won for the third time. “I’m not cheating, you just suck” She retorted, sticking out her tongue at him.
“I’m just too good” Y/N joked, Dean rolled his eyes at her taunt. "Yeah, yeah, you’re a real winner” He grumbled as he watched the door of the bar, Y/N let out a soft chuckle at his annoyance. A young attractive woman came walking out of the bar, dressed in a furry white coat, a glittery hand bag in her clutches.
Dean and Y/N both sat up straight as they noticed the girl. "Hey, check out the hottie" Dean nudged Y/N. “Focus, dumbass” Y/N rolled her eyes, scoffing at his hypocrisy for reprimanding her at the strip club and now he’s ogling a random chick. What caught their eye, however, was a familiar man exiting right behind the woman. Seemingly trailing her movement.
“Is that-” Y/N gasped. “Glen” Dean clenched his jaw, Madison’s neighbor Glen was coincidentally hanging out at Hunter’s Point. Only meaning one thing, the bastard was the werewolf that ‘mugged’ her. They observed as Glenn casually walked a few feet behind the hooker while keeping his eyes on her.
They shared a look before abruptly exiting the Impala. Wielding their guns as Glen followed the hooker into an alleyway. They heard an animalistic snarl coupled with the woman’s screams of terror. The duo rushed to follow the sound, sprinting down the dark alley.
The sounds of a struggle echoed loudly through the narrow space, only illuminated by a faint neon sign from the main street. They stumbled upon Glen attacking the terrified woman. “Hey!!” Y/N bellowed, both their guns raised at the werewolf. His eyes widened with fear, bearing his teeth at them as they emptied their clips with silver bullets in his chest.
The werewolf’s body jolted violently as the bullets pierced his chest. He let out a piercing cry, stumbling towards the wall before collapsing to the ground. He twitched as the silver poisoning seeped through his veins, still somewhat alive and coughing up blood.
The hooker he was previously attacking gasped with terror before pushing herself up to her feet. Her eyes wide at Dean and Y/N before making a break for it, running away screaming frantically. “Hey, don’t mention it!” Dean shouted sarcastically.
Dean and Y/N stood over Glen, who was coughing and spluttering blood. His fangs were still out as he spluttered, it retracted as they crouched beside him. “What happened?” Glen gasped, “Where am I?” He groaned painfully, Y/N raised her brows at this.
Jesus, it seemed like the poor dude didn’t even know he was a werewolf himself. “Ugh, Help- Help me.” Glen pleaded, coughing as the silver poisoning took effect on his body. “Oh god, oh my god” Glen sobbed. Y/N’s heart pained in her chest at the man’s suffering.
“Alright, easy, Glen. Just take it easy” Dean said calmly, but soon after Glen’s pulse weakened completely. Slumping dead on the ground as Dean and Y/N shared a pained look.
The alleyway fell into a eerie silence as the finality of the moment set in. Dean and Y/N both took a moment to collect themselves before Dean moved to stand up. He let out a weary sigh, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.
Y/N exhaled deeply at the sight of the dead man. "That poor guy. He didn't even know" She spoke quietly. "I know," Dean replied, running a hand through his hair. They both stood there in an anguished silence, feeling the weight of the situation weigh down on them. The gravity of the situation was heavy, they knew this part of the job all too well.
____________________________________________
The next morning, assuming everything was over. Sam was slumped in the backseat of the Impala while Dean was in the driver's side and Y/N sat shotgun, still parked in front of Madison’s apartment complex. Still staking out her place, just in case she turned again.
“It was sorta sad, actually. Glen had no clue what was going on” Dean stated, his head resting against the back of the seat as he and Y/N explained to Sam. Y/N took a drag from her cigarette before handing it to Dean, “Hey, why do you think he turned Madison, instead of just killing her in the first place?” She asked. Sam shrugged as Y/N passed the cigarette to Dean.
“I don’t know. I mean, he kind of seemed to have a thing for her” Sam answered, “Maybe his primal instinct did too” Y/N commented as Dean took a drag of the cigarette. “Maybe he was looking for a little hot breeding action” Dean added, this made Y/N scrunch her face up in disgust. “God dude, could you be more gross?” She groaned.
Dean chuckled at her reaction, “Hey, it’s a legitimate possibility” He stated as he passed the cigarette back to her. Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment, “You’re a pig” She retorted, making Sam snort with amusement from the backseat. “Yeah, something like that,” Sam sighed, his tone solemn. "What's up with you?" Dean asked, noticing Sam's sudden shift in mood.
Sam let out a soft sigh before answering, "Nothin' just thinking" He replied, his tone quiet. "Is it about Madison?" Y/N inquired, shifting in her seat to look at Sam who nodded, "Yeah" He admitted. “I thought you didn’t like her like that?” Dean raised his brow at his little brother as Y/N tilted her head.
"I don’t, not like that” Sam protested, “It’s just, I don’t know, we bonded a little, you know?” Sam sighed, he seemed genuinely remorseful that it turned out like that. Y/N’s facial features softened at Sam’s tone, she couldn’t help but sympathize with him.
"Hey, it’s not your fault man” Dean stated, trying to reassure his younger brother. However, Sam wasn’t having it as he let out another weary sigh, “Guys, she thought I was a stark raving lunatic” He retorted with a bitter edge to his tone, Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek at this.
A knock at the window on the passenger side startled them, their heads snapped to see Madison. “You know for a stakeout, your car’s a bit conspicuous” Madison commented as Y/N rolled the window down. “What are you still doing here?” She asked. “Honestly? Uh…we’re pretty sure you’re not gonna turn tonight..but we gotta be 100 percent” Dean responded.
“So, you know, we’re lurking” Y/N added with a small chuckle as Sam remained silent. He cleared his throat, before leaning forward. “Look, I know this sounds crazy—” He began. “Sure does.” Madison deadpanned before sighing, Sam’s gaze dropped to his hands. “Well, if we’re gonna wait it out. We might as well do it together” She sighed.
"What?" Dean blurted out. His tone was full of genuine surprise. He wasn’t expecting that response from her at all. Neither was Y/N, she was also surprised at the fact that Madison had agreed to hang out with them, as it was just the night before she was terrified of them.
-
They were now walking back into Madison’s apartment. “You were telling the truth, weren't you? About everything” Madison began as she locked the door behind them. “What you did, it was to help me” She frowned as they all shared nervous looks. “Yeah” Sam’s voice cracked. “I did all those horrible things…when I turned” Tears welled up in her eyes.
Sam offered her a sympathetic look but her heart pained for her, “You didn’t know” He said softly. Y/N and Dean listened intently, watching the exchange between Madison and Sam with pensive looks. Y/N particularly empathized with her, as she could see how much the events were clearly weighing down on her conscience, it was painful to witness.
“So, when will we know for sure? Moonrise?” Madison asked, clearing her throat. “No, I don’t think so. You turned in the middle of the night last night. I think we gotta hang in until sunup” Sam told her. “Well, it looks like we got ourselves a few hours to kill,” Dean chimed in. “Poker, anyone?” Y/N suggested, trying to lighten the mood.
"What, and lose all my money? Fat chance" Dean responded with mild amusement, but he still seemed like he was deep in thought. Y/N chuckled at his reluctance but Madison looked confused, "Poker?" She questioned. "You know, cards?" Y/N explained as she grabbed a deck of cards from her bag. Madison just looked at them blankly before sighing.
“Yeah, I know what poker is," She grumbled. "But aren't you afraid I'm gonna go all 'The Wolfman' on you guys?" She questioned. "Nah, we got it covered," Dean reassured her, holding up a gun with silver bullets. Y/N smacked Dean harshly on his arm at this.
"What? I was just being honest" He shrugged at Y/N’s hit, rubbing his arm as a pout formed on his face. "Could’ve been a little less honest" She chastised him, rolling her eyes at Dean’s lack of tact. Meanwhile, Sam glared at his brother.
-
It was nearing midnight and the night had passed rather peacefully. The four of them sat in the small living room, playing Poker on the floor. Y/N and Sam were competing against Dean and Madison, it was currently Y/N’s turn to deal the cards.
"So far, I’m winning" Dean smirked as he looked down at his cards, he had two pairs at the moment. "Yeah, yeah whatever" Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes at his boastful statement. She leaned over to glance at Sam’s cards with a sly grin, trying to get a glimpse of his hand. However, he playfully smacked her head away.
"No peeking" Sam said with a grin, but Y/N didn’t relent as she continued to try and peek at his cards. Dean and Madison watched the two with amusement, chuckling as Y/N continued her attempts to cheat, much to Sam’s annoyance.
Despite the dreadful situation, the four found a way to make fun of it. Patiently waiting to see if Madison would turn, the tension in the room was still daft.
As Y/N continued to pester Sam with her attempts to cheat, Dean turned his attention to Madison, looking at her with a mix of wariness and sympathy. Despite the laughter and playful banter, the underlying tension was still palpable, as they all waited for the sun to rise.
"Just give it up, you're not gonna see my cards" Sam said with an amused chuckle, pushing Y/N's head away for the hundredth time. "That's the point" She protested, sticking out her lower lip in a playful pout as she finally relented in her attempts to peek at his cards.
“I think, I’m gonna go to bed” Madison said suddenly, stifling a yawn. The three of them glanced up as Madison rose to her feet, a yawn escaping her lips. "You sure?" Dean inquired, a tinge of worry in his voice. After all, it was still hours away from sunrise.
Madison nodded, “Yeah, I’ll get you guys some pillows and blankets” She assured them. "Thanks" Y/N chimed in as Madison disappeared into the bedroom. There was a tense silence that followed and the mood in the room turned serious once more.
"You really think she’s gonna make it through the night?" Sam asked, his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, deep in contemplation. Dean leaned back against the couch, a tired sigh escaping him. "I sure as hell hope so" He replied, the weight of the situation evident in his weary voice.
"We have to hope so" Y/N stated firmly, there was a hint of desperation in her tone, as if she was trying to convince herself just as much as the others. Despite their best attempts to stay stoic, fear and vulnerability were creeping within them.
-
It was now around 2 am, the apartment was completely silent and dark, the only sound being the soft and steady inhale and exhale of breathing. Dean and Y/N slept soundly on the floor, wrapped in the blanket Madison had provided. Sam, on the other hand, had tossed and turned for the past couple of hours, unable to sleep properly.
Dean and Y/N were asleep on the floor in the living room, huddled together under the shared blanket. As usual, Dean was in a sprawled out position, his arms and legs were all over the place. However, Y/N was snuggled up right next to him, her head resting on his chest with her arm around his abdomen, using him as a makeshift pillow.
They looked completely at ease, their faces softened by sleep and the comforting presence of each other. Even in his sleep, Dean unconsciously held onto Y/N, bringing her closer to him, as if she was his personal teddy bear. Her head was nestled into the curve of his chest, their bodies flush against each other as their chests rose and fell in a smooth rhythm.
Despite the uncomfortable floor, the two of them looked completely comfortable, content in each other's warm embrace.
As Sam turned for what felt like the millionth time, trying to get comfortable enough to fall asleep, his eyes landed on the two forms that were snuggled up together on the floor. A soft smile appeared on his face at the sight of them. Dean and Y/N looked peaceful, soothed by each other's presence and a part of him envied them for it.
A loud crashing from Madison’s room caused Sam to shoot up from his position on the couch. The noise came from Madison's room and Sam's heart started racing as he quickly got to his feet, alert and ready for anything.
Y/N and Dean were startled awake by the sudden noise, they immediately sat up groggily, blinking the sleep from their eyes as their brains tried to catch up with what was happening.
"Fuck" Y/N groaned low whisper, holding her head, her heart pounding in fear. Dean was up on his feet instantly, his hand already reaching for the gun nearby while Sam quickly made his way towards Madison's room.
Madison was at her window, snarling at Sam. Sam rushed into the room, his eyes widened in shock and horror. There, standing at the window was Madison, but she was different. She had turned.
Her body was trembling, her face twisted with pain and fear, letting out a low, guttural snarl as she clawed at the window. He quickly rushed over to grab her as Dean and Y/N stormed the room with their guns before Madison had already jumped out of the window and escaped.
"No! No, no, no!" Dean shouted as he and Y/N stood near the window, but it was too late. Madison had already jumped out of the window, disappearing into the night before any of them could do anything.
Sam slumped down on the floor, his face a mix of horror and guilt.
-
The sun was now rising, Dean went to search for Madison while Y/N consoled a terrified Sam, still at her apartment. “I called Bobby. He doesn’t know anything. Except he knew severing the bloodline wouldn’t work. Everyone says it’s impossible to reverse” Y/N explained.
Sam sat silently, his mind racing with guilt and fear. Y/N's words only added to his growing despair, as he realized the gravity of the situation even more. It seemed hopeless.
“What the hell does it matter, Y/N. We gotta find some way to help her. Some legend we missed” Sam insisted. Y/N sighed and bit her lip, her expression conflicted. They were both desperate, searching for any possible way to help Madison. But they had exhausted all their options. "If there was, don’t you think someone we know would’ve known it" Y/N pressed.
Sam ran his hands over his face, a sigh of frustration escaping him. He knew she was right, yet he couldn't accept it, that there was nothing they could do to help Madison. "But there has to be," He countered back weakly. “We have to look harder until we find something!” Sam further defended.
“Sammy, I don’t think we got a choice here anymore” Y/N said gently, giving Sam a knowing look about what they have to do. Sam looked up at her, his eyes pleading for any other solution. But deep down, Sam knew what she was silently suggesting. He let out a shaky breath, his heart feeling like it was being crushed.
"What?" He scoffed angrily, pushing himself up from his chair. “I hate to say it, she’s a sweet girl, but part of her is-” Sam cut her off. “Evil?” He finished her sentence, getting up to face her. “Yeah!” Y/N shouted. “Part monster, whatever you want to call it” Y/N retorted, meeting Sam's angry glare head-on, as she too was growing agitated.
Sam's expression was a mix of anger and desperation as he stared at her. “Yeah, that’s what they say about me and you, y/n/n. About us!” Sam shouted back. Y/N felt a pang in her chest at his words, it hit her hard, but she didn’t back down. She clenched her jaw, refusing to give in. “Those people are wrong about us!” She snapped back.
“You and I know damn well that’s bullshit. And I’m not buying it for one second!” Sam retorted. "Then what do you want me to say, Sam?” Y/N fired back, her temper flaring at his stubbornness. “So me, you won’t kill. But Madison, you’re just gonna blow away?” Sam scoffed, placing his hands on his hips as he stood his ground.
Y/N felt a pang of guilt at his words but she steeled herself, her features hardening as she met his gaze, not backing down. "It’s not the same thing, and you know it" She said through gritted teeth.
The shrill sound of Sam's cell phone rang out, the sudden interruption causing a break in the heated argument. Sam quickly fished the device out of his pocket to answer it. "Yeah?" He answered, his tone still edged with anger as he brought the phone to his ear.
Y/N watched him, her breathing still ragged from the argument but she listened intently. “Sam?” Madison’s croaky voice came through the phone. Sam froze in shock as he heard Madison's voice. “Madison!? Where are you?” He practically yelled, hope and panic filling his voice. “I don’t- I don’t- I don’t know what I am” Madison sobbed.
The raw anguish in her voice broke Sam’s heart. He gripped the phone tighter, desperate to comfort her. “Just calm down, we’re gonna help. Just, stay where you are. Do you see any street signs?” He tried to reassure her, but his own voice was shaking.
“Um- yeah, yeah. Middle point” Madison answered, looking around as Y/N fished out her own phone to call Dean. Sam gave Y/N a firm nod as he took out a pen from his pocket and wrote down the name on his hand. “Alright, alright. Hold on, Maddy. We’re coming to get you. Just stay where you are”
Y/N quickly dialed Dean's number and held the phone to her ear. Her heart was racing as she waited for him to pick up. Meanwhile, Sam continued to talk to Madison, who was still sobbing on the other end of the line. He desperately tried to soothe her, even though he wasn’t sure if they could actually help her.
After a few tense seconds, Dean finally picked up the phone. "Yeah?" He answered gruffly. "We found her" Y/N nearly shouted into the phone, her heart racing. "Where is she?" Dean asked urgently. “Middlepoint, some street” She replied urgently, her voice shaking just a bit. “It’s not far from Y/N’s safehouse,” Sam added, having overheard the conversation.
"I'll be right there," Dean said before hanging up. Y/N put her phone back into her pocket, her heart pounding in anticipation. Sam was still on the phone with Madison, who was beginning to sound more hysteric. He desperately tried to keep her calm, telling her they were coming.
-
Dean found Madison and brought her back to her apartment. They were all in her dining room, Dean’s gun with the silver bullets was placed in front of a very disheveled Madison. The atmosphere in the room was heavy with dread. All of them were watching Madison with a mix of sympathy and fear.
Dean leaned forward, trying to meet her gaze but she was too distraught to look at anyone. “I don’t remember anything,” Madison sobbed. “I probably killed someone last night” Her words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the danger she posed to herself and others.
The silence in the room echoed with the weight of her words. Sam and Y/N tried to hide their unease, but it was clear that they were all grappling with the gravity of the situation. “Didn’t I?” Madison croaked. Sam couldn’t bear to look at her, “There’s no way to know yet” Y/N said quietly.
“Is there something else we can try? To make it go away?” Madison asked hopefully. “We’ll find something. I mean, there’s gotta be some answer, somewhere” Sam insisted. “That’s not entirely true” Dean chimed in, Madison’s head snapped over to Dean.
“Madison, you deserve to know.” Dean sighed. “We’ve scoured every source. There’s just no cure, hun” Y/N stated, her tone solemn. “Are…are they right?” Madison asked Sam. Sam nodded, his expression filled with sadness. “Yeah” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I mean, we could lock you up at night, but…you’d bust out and some night, you will. Someone else dies” Dean explained softly as Madison’s eyes filled with tears again. The room was filled with a tense silence as they all looked at Madison, whose shoulders sagged in defeat. It was a heartbreaking moment, the reality of her fate sinking in.
She knew there was no magic cure, that she was destined to hurt people as long as she lived. “I’m sorry, I am” Y/N added, shaking her head as she clutched her locket. “So, I guess that’s all there is to it, then” Madison sniffled, a single tear dropping from her eye. “Stop it. Don’t talk like that” Sam interrupted, insisting on finding a way to cure her.
“Sam, I don’t wanna hurt anyone else. I don’t wanna hurt you” Madison sobbed before taking up the gun from the table. Walking over to Sam, “Put that down” Sam shook his head as she placed the gun in his hand. “I can’t do it myself. I need you to help me” Madison pleaded, pressing the gun to her chest as Sam’s finger hovered over the trigger.
The room was a tableau of despair. Y/N's heart ached for Sam as she saw the torment in his face. Dean stood silently by, his hands clenched into fists, watching the scene unfold like a car accident that you can't tear your eyes from.
“Madison..no” Sam breathed out, the anguish clear in his voice. “Sam…I’m a monster,” Madison stated. “You don’t have to be. We can find a way, alright? I can, I’m gonna save you”
Dean, who usually kept a stoic facade, was fighting back tears. The despair was so thick in the air it was almost palpable. Sam was pleading in desperation to save her, but he was struggling to grasp the harsh truth.
“You tried. I know you tried. This is all there is left” Madison’s voice broke. “Help me, Sam. As my friend, help me” She begged. “I want you to do it. I want it to be you”
“I can't,” Sam snapped, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna die, I don’t” Madison chuckled dryly, taking a deep breath. “But I can’t live like this. This is the only way you can save me….please” She begged again. “I’m asking you to save me, Sam” Madison offered him a tearful smile.
Sam shook his head weakly as Y/N got up from her chair and stepped closer to them, prying the gun away from Madison’s hand. She gave Sam a sad look and Madison a small nod, “Go wait in the room, sweetie” She said to the woman gently.
Madison left the dining room, but as she did, you could hear her soft sobs. Y/N turned to Sam, the pain in his eyes cutting straight through her heart. He looked defeated, like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Sammy, I’m sorry” Dean cut in, the emotion clear in his voice. “No, you’re right. She’s right” Sam croaked, allowing the tears to fall freely from his eyes. “We tried everything,” Sam said, his voice filled with sadness and resignation. “We really did,” Y/N added gently. “Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it” She assured him.
“She asked me to.” Sam shook his head, “You don’t have to” Dean assured him. Sam swallowed hard and took a deep breath, "Yes, I do” Sam's voice was hoarse from holding back tears. He then put his hand out for y/n to give him the gun. “Please”
Y/N sighed, and handed Sam the gun. “Just wait here” He croaked as he took it from her and then got up from his chair, heading towards the room where Madison was waiting. Dean and Y/N exchanged a weary, heavy look.
Sam turned to Dean and Y/N with a tear filled face before pushing himself to enter the room. As Sam shut the door behind him, they could faintly hear the murmur of voices coming from inside the room. It was difficult to make out the words, but their voices were gentle and filled with sadness.
Seeing his brother so pained broke him inside out. Y/N was not taking it lightly either, holding back her own tears along with Dean as they waited for the gunshot to ring out. Dean wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her in close as a sense of helplessness washed over him. The finality of the situation was unbearable, and he found comfort in holding onto her.
They waited in excruciating silence. After what felt like hours, they heard the sound of the gunshot. Dean and Y/N flinched, the female hunter buried her face into Dean's chest. Tears streamed down her face and she held onto him tighter, seeking comfort.
The sound of the shot rang in their ears like a death knell. For people who use guns as often as they did, it was a sound that would haunt them for a long time to come. Dean's grip involuntarily tightened around Y/N as she buried her face in his chest, seeking solace in him. He swallowed hard, his own eyes stinging with tears.
He allowed them to flow freely as he clutched his love against him, stroking her hair, not only to comfort her but also himself. It was a devastating moment, one that weighed heavily on their hearts.
____________________________________________
Author’s Note: Yeah, so-😭💔 I’m so not crying *sobs into pillow* I LOVE YOU MADISON, YOU DESERVED BETTER😭😭😭
Other than that, I hope everyone enjoyed this episode, it was a sad one and I did my best to write around it because I’m a Sam and Jo stan lol.
No hate to Madison, I actually loved her and she slayed her one episode of screentime.
Lmk what you loved and what you hated. Also, that cigarette scene🫠🫠🫠
Thank you for reading!
Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19
@deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @mrsjjkwinchester
@juwu-theliciosa @magiccliopleurodon @nesnejwritings @karrah89 @whattheduckisupkyle
@iloveyou2mia @thelittlelightinthedarkness @lmhf1 @littletomboy2 @zigzoggy
@hey-its-zoe
Xoxo
#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#sam winchester#dean and sam#sam and dean#supernatural fandom#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean winchester fan fiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean girl#dean winchester fic#dean x y/n#dean winchester x y/n#dean x you#x reader#supernatural x reader#genesis primis#the old testament series#supernatural reader insert#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural series rewrite#supernatural rewrite
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hi! how are you?
so I read a fic some time ago that destroyed me…… like literally. I enjoyed it but at the same time I didn’t. but now I can’t stop thinking about it bc everything on it was so revolting and fucked. how to make a fic get out of our system? is it possible 😅 not to be dramatic but this fic almost made me lose interest in the whole ship lmao I just wanted to read something I enjoy again, you know? and nothing hits :( and when it does I’m almost finishing the fic and something horrible happens (that wasn’t really tagged) and I endure it until the end 💀 anyway if you have any fic that you read recently that is very romantic and monogamous or even if they are exes but they don’t date anyone else because they just can’t move on, pls share with us!! and it doesn’t have to be drarry, it can be anything. Im going through your lists and whole blog tbh looking for something that will save me lmaoooo I’ve read almost everything that interests me and you recced. (btw your break up make up list is amazing!) still I think the spark left me 🫠 ugh sorry for yapping
I’m sorry to hear that, anon :,( I think we’ve all been there at some point, god knows how many times I felt blocked, uninspired or just unable to connect to any fic. Personally, I find it helpful to take short breaks from fandom and focus on other hobbies for a while. Those fics will always be there when and if you’re ready to return! Also, imho you shouldn’t have to “endure” any fics that you find upsetting. I don’t typically have any triggers but I certainly have tropes/topics that don’t interest me much (or at all), and I have no qualms abandoning a fic when they show up unannounced 🤣
Now, it’s a bit hard to rec something randomly without knowing more about your fic tastes, but since you’re interested in romantic/monogamous stories, I thought I’d share some recs along those lines. This is a personal selection that might not work for you, but if it does I’ll be pleased to know that you’ve found that spark again :) Take care xo
Short fic:
Take the Moon by tackytiger (M, 15k)
Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year…
Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon by @the-starryknight (M, 16k)
The Ministry didn’t turn bad overnight. Harry didn’t suddenly turn rogue either. Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person. If there’s an art to fighting back, then they’ll find it hand in hand.
Us, in Lieu by Tepre (E, 29k)
Teddy needs help and Harry needs funding. Draco sits in the other room and plays the piano.
Long fic:
Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them by nerakrose, dustmouth (T, 96k)
Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.
Who we are in the shadows by Quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)
What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life.
Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)
The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.
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hey ofmd fandom. have a writing warmup that turned out alright
Jim/Oluwande post s1 stuff for a "fear" prompt. hope u like <3
Finding their way back to the ship was no relief, even when they were all allowed on board again—all but Stede. Which meant that most of the other outcasts had stuck to him, but… he had been unable to. Not with Jim stuck there.
They were, perhaps, the scariest part of all this. Now, this should not have been a surprise: Jim’s homicidal potential had been long established, and their mere presence should, by all means, have been enough to make anyone uneasy. But of course, they were also his partner, the tender wolf kissing his cheekbones and stroking his neck where the pulse would always jump into disarray. Oluwande trusted them to be on his side, as much as he trusted their competence with a knife. He had seen it first hand many times—ghost-quiet, a spirit made of sharp wind. They would have that steely stability of absolute focus in the way they moved that reminded him of a buzzard. It had been hot to look at, many times. One cannot overstate the pull of attraction of a very dangerous creature that knows what it is that they are doing, and are oh-so-good at it.
Or so you would think.
In this new context, Jim was in that state of keen battlefield awareness, perpetually. The enticement was gone; instead, Oluwande felt a mixture of sadness and dread, topped with the occasional spikes of terror that had him reevaluate his ability to swim. Jim looked tired. A few thin lines of stress had been permanently folded into the sides of their eyes. Another ran up the space between their eyebrows. Their jaw had a constant tension in it, like the next punch could hit at any point.
(To be fair to them, they had been hiding it exceptionally well. The only reason that Olu had noticed at all, was because he spent such an inordinate amount of time and energy paying attention to them.)
The implications were frightening.
#is this too short for a read more? i played it safe#our flag means death#jim jimenez#oluwande boodhari#ofmd oluwande#ofmd jim#ofmd fanfic#ofmd fic#ofmd#my writing#jim x oluwande#oluwande x jim#if i have to type anymore similar tags my eyes will cross#anyway. correct my english? YES critique my writing? not here. this is sketchbook equivalent and i barely checked for typos#i mean. if u WANT to critique it's fine i dont mind. i just think this aint worth it LOL#my english tho... always........ please.#also fun fact: i had to google both of their names lmfao#such a poser i am#i am SO tired i honestly cant think of any etiquette thign i might want to check i did right. and u can tell im tired because im hardcore#--rambling. yeah. yeah. author is half asleep in the tags. it happens#im just concerned about etiquette because fandom is.... stressful#anyway. if u read this snippet i love u bye#my posts
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Lynnie herself is a rockstar. Her life has been so interesting, her career is pretty trailblazing in writing for theater and television - on purpose, she realized she had to write the roles she wanted to play, roles that didn't exist back then - and in her personal life she does wonderful advocacy work and foster care work. She's just a very nice lady. I'm still hunting down files I have saved from years ago but I did find an interview where she said Bea smiled watching tape of her first ep as youngDorothy, and that she thinks Bea knew the reverence she held her in (exact words) and that she always felt Bea was very kind and supportive of her. she also said "let's face it, no matter how old you are if you're a petite blonde people think you're adorable and cute, it's a lot easier in the world than if you're a tall dark girl and someone you have to get to know to not be threatened by" which is a very astute observation as to how Bea was and still is treated compared to certain other people. I've got to travel this week and I've abused your inbox enough but if I find anything else relevant I might come back in a few weeks. happy to have made people happy.
Oh, absolutely!! We've spent some words on her acting so far, but I know she was also a prolific writer and producer. What a queen!! And on top of that wonderful career, she's also a great person in her private life?!? I'm not surprised (kind of gathered it from all we talked about so far!), but still!! Rockstar is the perfect definition!!! Wow!!!
Also not surprised that Bea was kind and supportive of her -- everything I've found out about Bea points to the fact that she was a genuinely sweet, lovely person. It's wonderful that she got to work with someone who admired her so much!! She really deserved all the love and admiration in the world!
I agree. That's a very poignant observation on her part -- especially that 'someone you have to get to know not to be threatened by'. So many people seem to think of Bea as this brash, overbearing commanding type, and she certainly could be, on stage -- but from what I've read, in her private life she was shy and introverted and just a big sweetheart. And I agree that a big part of this disconnect is due to how she appeared to people! I love them both, but the difference in treatment between her and Betty White alone is proof that one's appearance can influence people's opinions much more than we like to admit.
Anon, have a safe trip, and thank you once again for everything you've told me!! Feel free to come back whenever you want! You've really made my month (and, judging from the reblogs, I'm not the only one!!). Thank you so much!
#what an incredible person!! i'm so happy to know more about her now!!!!#idk if i'll ever get to meet her but if i do i'll probably be a bumbling mess lmao. i am in awe!!!#that observation about how beauty stereotypes play into the way people perceive you is very poignant. i've read somewhere that#bea suffered people's perception of her and that she was really very shy#so i hope she was surrounded by people who knew how sweet she actually was!#to be clear: this is not a read on betty white. she was a sweetheart too!! an absolutely delightful person!!!#but it's clear that people find it *easier* to believe she was than they do bea#because she was short and (fake) blonde#and i mean. this kind of stereotype has gradually gone out of fashion in the last couple of decades#but i remember feeling very out of place as a child because i was taller than all my peers and had a serious face#so i can't imagine how much sharper the stereotype must have been back when bea first started acting#anon. i seriously cannot thank you enough for all this. that you took the time to write this down and share it with me (and all of us)!#it's really special to me. thank you!!! you're a rockstar too!!#and have a safe trip!#the golden girls#bea arthur#lynnie greene#ask
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Single Dad!Simon who vowed to never trust another woman again after his failed past. He was locked up with the key thrown away, permanently off of the market.
At least that’s what he’d told himself for years. Now, he was beginning to have cold feet.
Simon needed a nanny, one that he could trust completely. He didn’t play about his child, and he’d be damned if he got set up with someone of ill intentions.
But, he was desperate.
Price needed him back periodically, even after his retirement, and he agreed. After all, money was tight when he parented on his own with a growing child.
That was when you came in. Soap had been a pal and recommended an old family friend, somebody he knew Simon could trust with his kid. Simon was skeptical, of course, but Soap had never done him wrong. Reluctantly, he agreed.
Simon wanted to have a trial period to see if you were truly built for the task. He wouldn’t let you off easily. His child was his world, and women weren’t exactly in his deck of cards when it came to trust.
You were as sweet as honey upon the first meeting with a smile that could outdo the sun. Your voice was soft as rain, flowing out of you like a summer song. You spoke to him with the upmost respect, and even more so with his child.
Simon knew he could trust Soap in guaranteeing somebody safe. You were the perfect candidate. He just didn’t know it would lead into him feeling emotions he’d buried a long, long time ago.
Attraction. Interest. A crush, dare he say, like he was a stupid high school kid that just saw the prettiest girl in class and fell head over heels.
He had a silly crush on his child’s nanny when he fully intended to keep it short and professional. That was the way he operated. He was like a working machine, and you had undone his mechanics so easily to the point he struggled to function.
Seeing you with his child only caused his attraction to fester deeper. His child became attached to your hip, smiling more than they had ever done, rambling nonsense to him every time he returned home and you left to go to yours.
It was becoming hard to deny it. You opened an old wound of Simon’s, awakening that deep and dreadful loneliness he felt every passing day. Every smile, every laugh, every Mr. Riley even though you were close in age, all of it had him on the edge of his seat.
He wanted more. He was tired of denying himself happiness. The idea of pushing away every woman was still very vivid in his mind, but denying you just seemed criminal the more time passed.
“I never got to thank you for allowing me in to your home, Mr. Riley,” you told him one day, ever so sweet.
“Thought I told you to call me Simon,” he grunted, avoiding your eyes as the two of you stood in the doorway.
“Right. Simon,” you corrected with a radiant smile. “You have quite the kid, I’ll tell you that. I always look forward to coming over. It makes my day seeing the two of you.”
Simon could feel his heart pattering against his ribcage. His hands were sweaty, and he prayed you didn’t notice him swipe them along his jeans.
“Both of us?” he hummed.
“Of course. You’re just as exciting to see, too, Mr. Ri- Simon.”
Simon’s lips quirked up the slightest bit, but his heart was in his ass. For the first time in a long time, a woman was making him shy and nervous, and it didn’t feel as bad as it did before.
“You’re always free to come over for dinner,” he offered.
“That sounds great, I’d love to have dinner with the two of you!” you exclaimed, beaming.
He didn’t understand how you could be so bright yet so oblivious at the same time.
Simon cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably on the balls of his feet. “I meant, the two of us.”
You stared at him like he’d grown two heads, and he nearly slammed the door in your face from the sheer anxiety that spiked in him. He couldn’t read your mind or what you were feeling, and Simon wished he had never said anything to begin with.
“That sounds wonderful,” you said instead. Now it was Simon’s turn to stare at you crazy. “I’d love that.”
Simon realized he was staring too long, so he cleared his throat once again, giving you a brief nod and looking away. “Alright. I’ll text you a day and have Soap pick up the little monster for the night.”
When you agreed and left with the smile that made his heart ache, he didn’t waste a second in texting Soap, telling him he’d be on nanny duty for one night that week.
Soap was quick to agree, but not without a little “You’re welcome ;)” text back.
#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost drabble#ghost simon riley#cod ghost#ghost x reader#ghost#simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you
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GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!
fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.
it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.
although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.
vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.
fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —
knock, knock.
“delivery for y/n?”
stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.
three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.
whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.
“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.
you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.
there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.
to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”
he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.
“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.
was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?
as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”
his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.
“it’s milk, darling.”
“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.
to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.
anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.
it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.
he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.
“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”
his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.
it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.
your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.
“for you, it’s free of charge.”
maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.
you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.
after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.
in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.
his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”
his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.
drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.
“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.
“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.
how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?
before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”
he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.
his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.
it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.
oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.
“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”
you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”
toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”
you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.
with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.
a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.
as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.
rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.
“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”
the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.
one thrust. two thrust. three.
he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.
what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.
slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.
your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.
“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.
it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.
he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.
all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”
instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ‘nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”
each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.
“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.
it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.
satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.
in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.
oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.
toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”
the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.
you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.
fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.
with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.
he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.
“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”
his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.
“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”
only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.
following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.
“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”
#𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑳𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑻 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑺 ┆jujutsu kaisen.#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk toji#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader#toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x you#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji jujutsu kaisen#toji jjk#toji fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk fanfic#jujustu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader smut
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Everyone Looks Better in a Sundress
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (GN + AFAB)
Summary: The AC at the BAU decides to take a holiday during a summer heatwave, and when you decide the FBI’s dress code is merely a suggestion, you unwittingly catch Spencer’s eye.
Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI)
Warnings: Dom!Spencer, sub!reader, semi-public sex, fingering, car sex, degradation, name-calling, edging, praise-kink, dumbification, basically Spencer is a tease and the reader really gets off on using his official title.
Word Count: 3.8k
Authors Note: Hello! This is my first posted fic, so any feedback is welcome and absolutely appreciated (I tried to keep it GN!AFAB but if you notice any gendered pronouns pls lmk immediately!) I finally decided to start writing again after a few years, so I might be a bit rusty but I recently started rewatching Criminal Minds and I am so in love with Spencer! This little fic was inspired by @imagining-in-the-margins CM Summer Sunshine Fic Challenge, so big thank you to them for the inspiration! This could also develop into a multi part fic in the future, so if that’s something you’d be interested in, please let me know in the tags and comments! XOXO K
Part two!
After three years in the BAU, you should know that summers in Quantico, Virginia are nothing to play about. Sure, it could be cloudy sometimes, and summer rain did allow for some relief, but with a heatwave on the way and a week of office work ahead of you, it seemed every member of your team was excited for the office AC.
That was, of course, until the maintenance department sent out an office-wide email telling you it was “undergoing work” for the foreseeable future.
You received the email during your commute, and immediately turned around to change. There was no way you were surviving in your slacks and long-sleeve shirt, and, truth be told, you knew that your bosses wouldn’t mind if you were a little more relaxed in your workplace attire if you weren’t going to be spending time in the field.
It took all of thirty seconds to shoot a message to Garcia, telling her that you’d be a few minutes late for your daily carpool, letting her know the situation so she didn’t hack into your car GPS (which she still claims she absolutely did not do the last time you accidentally slept in, but would in an emergency just to know you were safe).
She quickly sent you a reply: “put on that floral number we picked up last week! Between you and Morgan, I'm hoping my eyes will be feasting today 😉.”
You let out a little chuckle as you read the message, and quickly complied. A sundress didn’t sound too bad right now at all.
The dress in question was perhaps pushing it slightly for office work. It was short, and you knew immediately when putting it on that you would spend the day pulling it down to a more appropriate length. But the shade of blue fit your skintone perfectly, and the floaty material was exactly what you needed to beat the heat.
Grabbing your keys again before you could second guess yourself, you didn’t let your mind linger quickly on the thought that perhaps the dress was a little attention grabbing. And perhaps there was someone in the office whose attention you wanted to grab.
-X-
The commute into the office wasn’t bad, but stepping out of your nicely temperature regulated car into a wall of heat made you thank yourself for your foresight. And it seemed that the rest of your team was dealing similarly. Walking into the office, you noticed that Prentiss had divested herself of her shirt, sitting comfortably with an iced coffee and red tank top, an electric fan inches from her face. Morgan was similarly outfitted in lighter clothes than usual, and you could audibly hear Penelope’s brain working to come up with the best heat related compliment for her work husband. You couldn’t see Hotch or Rossi, but you knew they kept their own back-up units in their offices, so they wouldn’t be struggling at all today. You assumed JJ, too, was in her office.
“Well, look at you Cutie. You’re gonna break some hearts today, I know.” You roll your eyes as you throw your bag down. You were used to Morgan’s playful teasing by now, but compliments and affirmations were always welcome. You grimaced looking down at your desk chair and realised you had another problem. Your very recent purchase of a black leather office chair was going to absolutely make your day a living hell. Before you resigned yourself to a day of sitting in the orthopedic seventh layer of hell, your heard the angelic call of your office BFF.
“It feels like the devil’s armpit in here, god, do not expect an miracles from me today, I’m collecting my laptop and immediately moving away from all the heavy heat-producing machinery in my cave. Anyone got any space at their desk for me to work at?”
“Yes!” You replied a little too quickly.
“Feel free to make yourself at home, Pen, I have to look over some files with Reid later anyways so I’ll just pull up a spare chair to his desk, it’s all yours.” You thanked your lucky stars that everyone was too hot to tease you about your imminent proximity to the office’s Boy Wonder.
It turns out hiding a small, tiny, stupid crush from a team of FBI profilers wasn’t the easiest thing to do, but you were confident in thinking the only one who had clocked on so far was Penelope. And that was only because of your weekly girls nights and an unfortunate habit of spilling secrets while intoxicated. Sure, the others still teased sometimes, but that was only because the two of you were the easiest targets. And they just didn’t know how on the nose they were sometimes.
She gave you a quick look, of the ‘we will be discussing this later’ variety but didn’t say anything else and quickly excused herself to collect her things.
You quickly pulled up a (non-leather) chair next to Reid’s and straightened out your dress as you started searching for the file you were looking for. Although you absolutely had an ulterior motive to intruding on his space, you actually did have work to do. But the heat, and the knowledge that you’d be working closely with Reid again any minute now did nothing to help you stay focused.
Of course, having worked on the same team now for three years meant that you’d been alone together before. In all honestly, he was your partner of choice for any field task and you complimented each other well. The two of you worked together on Geographical Profiles for the majority of your cases, using your people skills, and his practical knowledge to gain insight into the locations unsubs lived, worked, murdered and hid their victims. And of course, you were friends outside the office, too. But you felt there was a distance between the two of you that made itself known the minute you stepped off the Jet or out of the bullpen.
As you searched the desk, you let your mind wander to what he would look like in this heat. You knew he didn’t deal with the heat well, and could often be found with his shirt sleeves rolled up and top buttons undone on the cases in the warmer climates. You thought about him panting in the heat, pushing his hair out of his face, glistening with sweat and grumbling quietly about the heat. You specifically thought back to a case from a few weeks back, where the two of you had an awkward run-in with an automatic sprinkler when you made your way to interview a witness. His purple shirt had ended up soaked, and on day six of the investigation, his go bag was thankfully short of replacement clothing. So he’d sat in the precinct, shirt semi-transluscent, completely oblivious to your brazen oggling and sudden lack of anything intellectual to say. Or anything to say in general.
It was only as you felt yourself getting warmer (a particularly impressive feat on today of all day’s) that you had to pull yourself out of the fantasy. But of course, as you stood up to get yourself a cool drink, you realised you were face to face with the man of your fantasies.
“Y/N? Did you need something?” He looked down at you, with a soft smile on his face.
“Oh! No, it was Garcia, she, um, she needed somewhere to work because her office is practically a sauna with all those computers. And I was thinking, we still need to work on that report on the geographical profile from the last case, so I offered her…my…” You trailed off, noticing you were rambling and allowed yourself a second to look at the man in front of you properly for the first time that day.
It was going to be a miracle if you got any work done ever again.
Like you, he’d opted for a change in uniform. He’d rid himself of his usual waistcoat-cardigan combo and was left in a button down shirt. It was, as you’d hoped and prayed, open slightly more than usual at the top. You frowned unconsciously as you realised he had also pushed his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, unhappy that you wouldn’t get to watch him do it in-person, his veins popping out as he exerted himself in the smallest way.
A few seconds of silence passed, and you had to make yourself tear your eyes away from a droplet of sweat that was neatly making its way down his throat, tracing a line that you could only hope to one day follow with your lips. When you snapped your eyes up to his, he nervously did the same, gripping his bag a little tighter to him.
“Oh, yeah that sounds good, um, let me just put my bag down and we can, uh, get started I guess.”
“Yeah of course. I was just gonna grab a drink first, do you want one?”
“Sure, yeah, a coffee would be good.”
“Okay, I’m no expert but that cannot be healthy in this heat. I know you’re practically a caffeine addict at this point, but I’m getting you a glass of water and you’re going to thank me, okay Doctor?”
He rolled his eyes and settled comfortably into his seat, but made no complaints as you walked away.
-X-
“This is ridiculous, how can they expect us to work like this?” Agent Prentiss grumbled from her desk.
“Oh, come on now, Prentiss, you can’t be complaining about a little heat, now.”
You rolled your eyes at your coworkers playful back-and-forth, doing your best to not melt into your borrowed seat. You’d been working side-by-side with Reid for the last three hours and the heat was now unbearable. You were stuck to the seat in an uncomfortable way, especially with the extra exposed skin from your dress. It had ridden up your legs more than you expected it would, so you were constantly shifting in your seat attempting to keep yourself decent.
The heat rolling off your teammate didn’t help. You had assumed that his love of cardigans, scarves and layers in general meant that he usually ran on the cooler side, but he was practically burning up next to you, making any and all accidental touch near intolerable.
Each accidental brush of his fingers as you passed files between the two of you, each knock of your knees together under the desk as you moved to read over one-anothers shoulders, and every time you got up for another drink, it’s like he’s read your mind because he stood up at the same time and you had to awkwardly untangle yourself from the mess of desk chairs and office furniture. With every touch, you feel yourself getting hotter and hotter, the heat pooling between your legs embarrassingly.
It’s only when, later in the day, he brushes the seam of your skirt with his fingers when reaching over you with his other hand for a file you know for a fact he does not need, you realise that all of those accidental touches may have been absolutely intentional.
Lowering your voice to a whisper, you bring your lips closer to his ears.”Spence, what was that?” You try to keep your voice steady, but his fingers are stil lingering closer to your sensitive areas than you found comfortable.
He drops his eyes to yours, looking you in the eye for the first time since you started working together in a comfortable silence.
“What was what?” He asks innocently, his cheeks flushes as he starts drawing small circles on your thigh.
“You’re touching me. You’ve been touching me a lot today, Doctor.”
“Oh, I’m Doctor now, am I?” He smiles at you before quickly moving his attention back to the file he was reading.
“Don’t change the subject.” You feel your whole body flush, as he ignores you and continues his reading, not removing his hand from your leg the entire time.
“S-Spencer, I’m serious.” He looks at you again then, and your heart jumps into your throat as you realise he’s removed his hand from the hem of your skirt, only to have it return under the material, moving closer and closer to where you really wanted him.
“You know,” he whispers under his breath, so quiet you’re sure that no one could overhear, “you look really pretty in this dress.”
Your brain is short circuiting as you feel his hand on your inner thigh, failing to register the implication of his words as you do your best to stammer out a reply.
“A-actually, Garcia chose it out for me. She said that you would-” you cut yourself off before you can say anymore. You’re surrounded by a room of your close friends and teammates and you’re doing your best not to beg your incredibly attractive coworker to push his fingers into you right then and there. Biting your lip so you don’t say anything else, you try to stand and shift away.
But Reid is there, and with his other hand he maneouvers you even closer to him somehow.
“She said I would what, beautiful?”
He’s so close now and you find yourself again staring at his exposed neck, wanting nothing more than to bury your head in him and kiss and lick and bite until he gives you what you want. The little circles he’s drawing on your legs are removing your inhibitions quicker than any alcohol could.
But then he grips you a little tighter, and forces you to look up into his eyes again and respond.
“She said that you would, uh, she said that you would’nt be able to take your eyes off of me. We were shopping together and she was just teasing and, well, yeah.”
“All dressed up for me, then? You thought you’d test the theory and see if she was right?”
And suddenly he’s ghosting his fingers across your panties and you’re doing your best to not make any other noises as he looks you deep in your eyes.
“Do you think she was right, Y/N?” He asks. But before your brain can catch up and choose whether or not to answert, he’s pulling away. He’s standing up and he’s walking over to Morgan, file in hand, asking questions about another previous case file, and you’re left sitting at his desk questioning if any of that actually just happened.
-X-
You spent the rest of the day in a daze. Luckily, your team was so busy complaining about the heat that you were sure none of them noticed the tension you carried through the rest of your day. With the AC still not working, Garcia had gained permission from Hotch to head back to her own apartment to finish up the day with more appropriate equipment, and had quickly evacuated your desk, allowing you to retreat back to your own space.
Emily had finished her own paperwork early due to a well-timed bet with Morgan, and had taken herself off to JJ’s office, and Morgan was meeting with Hotch in his office to discuss a potential death row intervew. So with the end of the workday in sight, only you and Reid remained in the bullpen.
After your little run in, you knew that you weren’t going to get any effective work done. Emily had once joked that Reid’s high IQ gets slashed to 60 every time he comes in contact with an attractive woman. At the time, you’d laughed, joked along. Nowthat it was your reality, it wasn’t as funny to you.
He’d played with you, called you beautiful, had his hands on you in the most frustratingly dizzying way- and then just as soon walked away from you. It wasn’t as if you wanted him to take you right then and there, in front of the entire office.
In fact, you’re quite sure that no matter how horny you were, you’d have stopped him before he went any further that publically. But you weren’t as sure you wouldn’t have dragged him off to a supply closet and forced him down on his knees and under your skirt.
To be short, you were pissed. He had left you, hot and bothered, on a day where you literally could get no relief from the heat.
You watched him work for a while after that. His desk faced away from yours, which meant you could covertly watch him whilst he worked and he would be none the wiser. After catching yourself staring a hole into the back of his head for the fifth time in an hour, you grunted out a curse and started packing your things up for the day. Unfortunately, you were just loud enough to catch the man’s attention.
“Leaving so soon, princess?”
“Yes. It’s hot and I’m tired and I just want to go home and take a cold shower and get into bed.” You started packing your things up again, but you quickly noticed that Spencer was doing the same.
“Are you leaving as well?” You asked, your stomach doing a small flip in apprehension of his answer.
“Yeah. I’m also hot, and tired and a cold shower sounds amazing right about now.”
You flushed at even the slightest change of a double meaning. Did he want to shower with you? Was he really going to step over that line?
He continued to pack up his things calmly, and you did the same. You walked towards the elevator, and it wasnt until he reached from behind you to press the call button that you realised he was so closely following you.
“And besides, your bed sounds amazing right about now.” The hairs on your neck stood up as he whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck as you felt heat pool between your legs for the second time that day. You froze up like a deer in headlights, and as the elevator dinged open, you felt Spencer walk you in, press the button, and close the door before making his next move.
“You didn’t answer me earlier, you know? When I asked about the dress? Do you think Garcia was right?” He had crowded you into one corner of the elevator, and your brain was still short-circuiting. Shit, maybe you were the one whose IQ was cut in half, because the man in front of you seemed more confident than you had ever seen him before.
His placed his hands on the guard rail either side of you, as one of his legs found its way between yours and you let out a small whimper, then cursed yourself when you saw the smirk growing on his face.
“Come on, Princess, use your words.” He teased again.
“She wasn’t right.” You breathed out. “You looked at me a few times, but nothing too long and nothing…inappropriate, but-”
“But what?” He pushed his leg further into you, moving his hands to grip the fabric at our waist, and suddenly you were counting your blessings that no other agent in the building had decided to use the elevator right now.
“But you can’t keep your hands off of me.” His lips crashed into yours the second you finished your sentence, as you desperately grabbed at his hair, desperate to feel more and more of him against you despite the sticky heat.
He pulled away reluctantly as the elevator came to a stop in the basement carpark, but you still desperately clung to him, pressing kisses into his jaw and down his neck as you breathed in the scent of his sweat on his skin. Your words had failed you, but your body was desperate to communicate exactly what you needed.
He chuckled as he pulled you off of him, stroking your hair as he pulled you to your car. Opening the passenger side door for you and taking the keys from your bag, he placed a kiss to your temple, pulling away only enough to whisper into your ear. ”Which one of us can’t keep their hands off the other now?”
You were hot and delirious and you were not going to interrupt him now. He climbed into the driver’s seat, something you knew he didn’t do often, and placed his hand on your leg again as he drove.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered as soon as you were far enough away from the building. You complied immediately, not wanting to interrupt anything the man might do to you. “Good girl,” he mumbled as he immediately picked up where he left off earlier, rubbing your sensitive nub through your underwear. Your dress was pushed up now
“You know, Garcia was right” he spoke again, his fingers snaking their way under the elastic of your underwear. You could only moan in surprise, desperately close to getting exactly what you wanted.
“I have been staring at you this whole day. You came in this short dress, practically on display for anyone to see.” His fingers were now slowly circling your clit, going torturously slowly as you bucked up your hips for some much needed friction.
“When you got me that glass of water, I followed you, you know. Watched you reach for the glass on the top shelf, saw your skirt riding up. We’re you so desperate for me to notice you that you put yourself on display for the entire office like a little whore?” You moaned in surprise as his words registered in your mind.
You tried to reply, to deny and protest your innocence, but he chose that minute to thrust a finger into you, the awkward angle forced by your position in the car creating a beautiful friction. You started rocking your hips quicker against his hand, opening yourself up to him fully, and grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t pull away for a third time that day.
“You can’t even deny it, Look at you using my hand to get yourself off. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna do it right here in your car?” You moan out a yes as he adds another finger, stretching you out further as you whimper around him.
“Fuck, yes Spence, I’m a whore, your little whore.” You feel that familiar coil in the bottom of your stomach tighten and soon your releasing yourself all over his hands. Gasping for air, your head falls back on the passenger seat, and you release your grip on Spencer’s hands.
“Good job, princess, you did so well for me. We’re almost home now, let’s get you in that shower.” You whimper a little, nodding as you allow your brain to settle once again, completely comfortable with letting Spencer take control and do whatever he needs to do with you for the rest of the night.
-X-
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INFINITELY YOU
part two // crullers & constants
SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion
WORD COUNT - 4.2k
// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite
name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker
Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.
Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.
Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.
Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.
Or, at least, none that mattered.
But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.
It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.
Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.
After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.
And Peter never even asked why.
“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”
Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”
And how true that must have been.
There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.
He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?
Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”
You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!
“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”
It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”
Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.
You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?
“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”
“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”
The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.
Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”
Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.
“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.
Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.
“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”
Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.
You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”
Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”
Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.
“Did he?”
Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”
You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.
In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.
“Well did he have anything useful?”
He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.
Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.
“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.
“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.
“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.
Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”
Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.
“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”
Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.
“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”
“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”
You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”
Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.
“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”
By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.
Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”
“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”
Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”
“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.
Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”
“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”
“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”
You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”
“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”
Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!
“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”
“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”
“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”
He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”
“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.
“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.
If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.
You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.
“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…
Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”
Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.
“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.
He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?
“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”
He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.
Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.
But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.
The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.
Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.
Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.
“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”
He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”
You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.
“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”
You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”
Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”
His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.
“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.
“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.
There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”
You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”
Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”
In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.
Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.
“Mj happened.”
Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”
It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”
In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.
“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.
You sucked in a breath.
“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”
His brow snapped up. “What changed?”
Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.
But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.
“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”
An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.
“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”
“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”
“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”
“I’m not pretending-”
Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”
Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”
There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.
“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”
“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”
Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”
series masterlist
a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.
as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!
part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th
#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#no way home imagine#no way home fanfiction#no way home#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagines#spiderman imagines#tom!peter imagine#andrew!peter imagine#tobey!peter imagine#tom!peter x reader#andrew!peter x reader#tobey!peter x reader#marvel imagine#mcu imagine#mcu x reader#marvel x reader#marvel imagines#marvel headcanons#spiderman imagine#spiderman fic#spiderman fan fiction#dark spiderman#mcu#spiderman#spiderverse#tobey maguire#andrew garfield
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Coincidence (MV1)
Max Verstappen x fem!reader
Summary: a rare moment of peace is disturbed by none other than his ex-girlfriend.
Warnings: angst, indicating cheating (emotionally), this is all fiction, none of this is real and I don't mean to attack anyone by this.
Wordcount: 0.5k
Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series
A text was all it took for everything to change again.
With her head on his chest, finally breathing for a second, one text had the ability to make her run again. Max was focused on the movie playing on the screen, that he didn’t even notice the vibration of his phone on the coach, his hand mindlessly playing with the hem of her shirt. He didn’t notice the second message. He didn’t even notice her budging him to gain his attention.
It wasn’t up until she had enough and moved a bit to take the phone herself that he looked away from the TV. Watching her take his phone and unlocking it. It was never a problem for them in the time they were dating, using the other’s phone for texting their parents or friends or googling whatever. It was always just about which one was nearer.
“Who is it?” Max asked, moving his fingers up and down her chest.
Looking at the contact name and message for a second longer to make sure she read everything correctly, she finally answered, “Kelly. She says P misses you.” At the mention of her name, Max took the phone from her hands. She wasn’t too sure if it was because of Kelly or P. She hoped the latter, but with the way he would still step away from her whenever they met Kelly at a party was making her doubt herself more and more.
What a coincidence that she missed him now when Y/n finally had him for herself in a long time. No racing, no meeting, just them. And her.
Lifting her head up, Max stood up, walking out of the room and dialing her number in the process of leaving his girlfriend.
Max talked for longer than usual on the phone, all while Y/n was left by herself, the TV only being a background noise to not make the thoughts get too loud.
“I’m gonna meet P and Kelly for brunch tomorrow,” Max announced, walking past her, kissing her head and continuing his path into his gaming room.
All of their freedom stolen once again.
She sat there, watching the screen but not the show. She was watching her life flying past and soon enough she was laying next to him in bed, wide awake. Hearing his voice vibrating on his bedside table, her name probably lighting up the screen. Whatever it was, Y/n was sure she wouldn’t be one knowing. Whatever effort she put into the relationship to make it work and keep it safe and hidden from the media, it would all be over once he came back the next day from brunch. He would only be half of the person she used to know and love.
The next morning Y/n without Max by her side. The bed was cold and empty. He must’ve been gone for quite some time already. He hadn’t even asked if she wanted to join them.
Turning on her phone, the first thing she saw shouldn’t be surprising.
Headline: Formula 1 Star Max Verstappen seen out and about with ex girlfriend Kelly Piquet and her daughter Penelope. Is there an old romance brewing once again?
She couldn’t blame them. Barely anyone knew that they were dating, Max wanting to keep it private for her own safety.
What a coincidence.
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen f1#f1 fandom#f1 grid#f1 imagine#f1#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#formula racing#sabrina carpenter short n sweet#short n sweet sabrina carpenter#short n sweet
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★ Naked in bed.pt2
⋆ ★NSFW content, suggestive
⋆ ★featuring: Sanji, Ace, Buggy (all the simps), GN!reader
⋆ ★authors note: you ask ! You shall receive 🫶🏻
Sanji
Congrats, you killed the man
jokes aside, we all know how Sanji is down bad and you better believe that when it comes to HIS lover?? He’s more down bad than you can imagine
So it started all because you realized your underwear/sleepwear started to smell like smoke so you thought a great solution would be to just go sleep naked and then take a shower in the morning. Then your clothes would be technically safe from the smell.
Sanji was already lying in bed, heavily anticipating you changing into your pyjama or lingerie before bed. You could sense your boyfriend heavy gaze on your body.
You smirked to yourself and started to remove your first layer normally and then you attacked the rest. He cleared his throat and mumbled your name under his shaky breath as he was faced to your nude body.
« Y-y/n..? »
« I hope you don’t mind baby, I just don’t wanna smell like smoke »
His nose is bleeding and he’s quick to pull you by your arm into him. Your body falls on top of him and he’s already kissing you as his hands roam all over your curves.
« Who would complain about this..»
He finally replies with a smirk and mischievous eyes. He’s so down bad for you.
Ace
Ace devil fruit power is very useful when it’s cold, when it’s time to defeat powerful enemies, and so on. But when the ship is in a summer island territory and the heat is almost unbearable, sleeping with Ace who has a high body temperature can be hard.
You lay down on his bed with nothing but small shorts and a tank top as you wonder how long you’re going to have to endure the heat. Your eyes were growing heavy as fatigue started to grow in you, but you knew that even the little clothes you have on you right now, felt irritating.
Sleeping naked doesn’t seem like such a bad idea…
That’s what you do, you remove your clothes and lay down again on the bed, waiting for the commander to find you. Then you hear the door slowly open with a distant goodbye from your boyfriend to someone behind the door.
« Oh- Uh hey there? »
He smirks as he put his hat down and starts removing his accessories. You push your upper body up and stare at your lovely freckled man.
« Hey.. » you say in a sleepy tone. Aces eyes are devouring you and you feel butterflies in your stomach as his eyes linger shamelessly.
« Thé weather is too hot, so I thought I would sleep naked… »
« Umm, I see »
He says as he sits on the bed and let his hand play with your hair.
« My baby can’t handle the heat? »
You nod with a small pout and lean into his touch.
« How about I make your forget about it and give you a good reason to sweat »
You blush and truly who were you to deny anything to this man when he looked at you with so much love and lust.
« Sure.. » you smile as you pull him into a kiss.
Buggy
You felt lazy to put clothe on after your shower so you just walked back to the bed and laid down there. You found again the article you started to read on the nightstand but stopped as you got interrupted earlier. With that you forgot that you were still nude on your bed.
That was until Buggy walked into your shared room with a screech, his eyes popping out of his face.
« What are you doing naked like that ??? »
He screamed-whispered in panic. He didn’t know if he was totally turned on or shocked, maybe both.
You finally turned to him and looked at yourself slowly and back to him. Your mouth gasped a little, but you didn’t care because it was your boyfriend and it wasn’t like it was his first time seeing you naked lol.
« Aren’t you overreacting babe? » you chuckled as you turned your body more to his direction and let the article fall on the bed.
« What if it wasn’t me who walked in?? Are you insane?! »
He said as he walked into your direction. You knew how to shut him up, so you just pulled him harshly by his collar into you and smashed your lips into his. You then ran your hands over his clothed torso and pulled out to whisper into his ear.
« But it’s you , isn’t it? So how about you take care of me instead Captain »
He’s blushing and groping your body.
« If that all you want, don’t ask me twice »
He smirks and dive back into kissing you, having the upper hand this time.
#one piece#tomiewrites🌷#one piece headcanons#one piece x reader#portgas d ace#portgas ace x you#portgas ace smut#ace one piece#ace smut#ace imagine#portgas d ace smut#ace sabo luffy#portagas d. ace#sanji headcanons#sanji fluff#sanji smut#sanjionepiece#sanji x reader#op sanji#black foot sanji#buggy the clown#captain buggy#buggy x reader#buggy smut#op buggy#buggy one piece#buggy x you#buggy imagine#buggy fluff#one piece x gn reader
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he helps you study
After agreeing to let him use you whenever he wants, Captain Price fucks you freely while you’re studying, making you read your chapter out loud.
Warning: Free use, prior explicit consent, domination
Two more chapters and you’d finally be done. This statistics class was killing you, and going back to school after having already been in the workforce for so long had made it even harder. There were discussion questions due tomorrow, and you needed to finish them tonight.
You heard the door to your bedroom creak open, and John’s heavy footsteps padded on the carpet.
Glancing over your shoulder, you gave him a half-smile,
“Hey, honey. I’m not finished yet, but I’ll be there soon. I know you wanted to watch a movie. I’m sorry I -”
You felt his hands pull your pajama shorts and underwear down to your thighs in one, rough movement.
“Hey! I don’t have time for this. What are you -”
“Read. Your. Book,” his voice was so close to your ear, and the way he bullied you with the weight of his body on your back made your breath catch in your throat.
You heard the tell-tale jingle of his belt buckle. Then the zipper. Turning your attention back to the book was impossible. He noticed your distracted look and sank a fingertip into your pussy, playing gently at your entrance, convincing it to swell, anticipating his cock.
“I told you to read, sweetheart. Out loud.”
You swallowed, trying to find your place on the page,
“Chapter 12. Misuse of statistics can produce subtle but serious errors in description and interpretation…“
You felt his weight crush the mattress. Your captain was situated behind you. He spread your legs open and pulled your hips back, lifting your ass up in the air. The cool air of the room rushed over your exposed flesh. You felt his mouth begin to lick your folds, not for your pleasure but for his.
“…subtle in the sense that even experienced professionals make such errors…oh, shit, John,” you cried out from the feel of his tongue as it laved through your folds.
He stopped eating you, and you felt him lean forward. Then, his cockhead was prodding at your hole. He was wetting it with your own fluids, using his dick like a paintbrush before pushing forward into your tight, unprepared walls.
“Ahh, honey, wait!” You tried to slow him down, looking back at him.
What you saw when you turned around was a warning. You had agreed to free use after he had asked you for it, and he had warned you about his rules. He would take you, whenever, wherever, and however he wanted, and you were not to complain. You had to use the safe word.
You didn’t use it, squeezing your eyes shut in a pleasurable kind of pain, returning to your book,
“…and serious in the sense that they can lead to devastating decision errors. For instance,” you had to stop again.
You couldn’t continue. His cock felt too damn good. You were moaning, feeling yourself being stretched out by your captain, experiencing a sudden flood of wetness as your body attempted to accommodate its favorite guest.
“For instance, what, pretty girl?” He asked cruelly, fitting the tip of his thumb into your asshole as he pounded himself forward, slamming his weight into you, stretching both of your holes.
You were struggling to concentrate, and the words came out in strained, staccatoed bursts,
“For instance, social policy, medical practice, and the reliability of structures like bridges all rely on the proper use of statistics…”
John fucked you faster, shaking the bed, grunting and moaning without shame, gripping onto your hips fiercely and without mercy. You could feel how impossibly hard he was. His thickness overwhelmed you even with lube and plenty of foreplay. Like this, raw and sudden, it was enough to make you drunk on his lustful work.
“Keep reading, love. This tight little cunt is gonna make me come,” he growled low and tense through his clenched jaw, using his thumb to push deeper into your sensitive ass.
“Even when statistical techniques…” you whispered, incapable of projecting your voice without it turning into a wanton moan.
“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Good girl,” he took his thumb away in order to play with your rigid clit. It sent sparks through you, making you clench down around him. He groaned louder.
You tried to read, not wanting to displease your captain, trying to be a good girl, just for him. Whatever he wanted, you were eager to give it.
“…are correctly applied…”
“God fuckin’ damnit! That’s what I want, love. Come for me. Squeeze this cock for me. That’s it. That’s it, babe,” John leaned forward, his chest pressing down on your back, fucking you like a hound, his other hand grasping the sheets as he tried to hold his full weight off of you.
He knew exactly how you liked your pussy to be played with. His hands were huge, and his long fingers could apply the most delicious pressure against your swollen folds, making your legs tremble and shake.
“…the results can be difficult…”
You couldn’t breathe. You came so hard that you saw stars, keeping yourself from moaning to give him the obedience he was craving. He screamed loud enough for the both of you, pumping harder and harder into you like a steel piston, spilling inside of you in hot, thick ropes.
“…to interpret.”
You were both panting, ragged and well-used. He pulled himself out of you as slowly as he could, setting your legs back down, and leaving you on the bed, wet and soaking in his come. You heard his belt buckle clinking again, being fastened by its panting owner. He pulled your panties back up, making sure to scoop his escaped come back into the fabric so it would smear against your lips. Then, your shorts, positioned on your waist with care.
Closing the door to the bedroom, John left you there, holding your textbook, shaking like a leaf.
#call of duty fanfic#cod mw2#cod mwii#captain john price#cod#john price#captain price#captain price x reader#captain price x you#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain john price smut#john price smut#afab reader#Female reader#x female reader
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you are not difficult
pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but it can fit any au, really)
word count: no idea but it's short
genre/warnings: er, angst, hurt/comfort, implied suffering w depression, implied history of SH. also implied shitty ex. so PLS keep that in mind before you read. also, it's all good in the end.
author's note: it's a self comfort thing y'all but i hope you like it too.
it was yet another night where everything felt too much and you kinda hated yourself for it. bad day, maybe some hormonal imbalance due to a certain time in your cycle, history of mental illness — it's hard to put a finger on the exact cause. you're sick of trying, anyways.
chris was, of course, right there for you, and as you were falling apart in his arms, your entire soul was aching so bad that it made you want to crawl out of your own skin. it's usually like that, everywhere in your body like some sort of extreme inflammation, except physically you're perfectly fine.
"'m sorry…" you blurt out somewhere between your sobs and cries, still unable to hold eye contact with him.
"baby, you have nothing to be sorry for," chan shakes his head and keeps rubbing circles into your back, just between the shoulder blades where the ache feels the most excruciating.
"kiss me?" you squeak. almost pathetic, honestly, but it's always been your way of checking, whether he still wants you. whether he still loves you and desires you, even at your lowest, even with your mascara all smudged over your cheeks, eyes puffy and red, lips slightly irritated and swollen. even when there's a gaping black hole where the heart is supposed to be.
chris doesn't even question it, really. he simply leans in and gives you a long sweet kiss full of both a partner's tenderness and a lover's lust, so, so willing to do whatever it takes to calm the thunderstorm inside your mind and ease your struggle.
the kiss doesn't really satisfy you, the feeling is still there.
"sorry," you whisper again as you breathe out into chan's lips but the intimate contact doesn't last long. chris frowns and makes some distance between you two to look into your eyes.
"why? baby, why do you keep apologizing?" he sounds gentle but still slightly frustrated.
"i dunno? cos 'm difficult? for bein' difficult?"
there's a silence as he blinks a few times, processing and putting two and two together.
"just because it was difficult for them to love you and take care of you, doesn’t make you difficult. you are not difficult. like, at all," he puts on his serious tone, the one he uses for you when you can't see the obvious and he has to remind you.
you don't really know what to say to that, so you keep playing with the tissue paper in your hands, ripping it apart piece by piece just to keep yourself busy and focused on something other than the burning ache in your chest.
"dealing with mental health isn't easy, that one is true, baby, but it's so easy to love you. you are easy to love. even now, looking so small and in pain but it's still you, and my duty as your boyfriend is to take care of you when you can't. and, hell, you're one of the most capable people i know, so please just let me hold your hand through it once in a while, yeah?" chan speaks slowly and quietly, as if to make every single word sink in, tenderly forcing it into your stupid lovely brain that refuses to cooperate sometimes.
chris feels safe. he feels like lighting up a cookie scented candle after a long day at work. he's the feeling of the ocean timidly licking at your feet and burying them deeper into warm wet sand. chris is the first sip of coffee in the morning and the cold side of the pillow at night. he's everything worth living and trying for.
"thank you," is the only thing you manage to say, but in the way you lean back into his embrace he's able to read a lot more.
"do you want a nice mug o' hot chocolate and some fairy bread, baby?"
this question makes you hiccup and sob once again. you nod and nuzzle closer into the crook of his neck.
#my fic#stray kids#skz bang chan#stray kids bang chan#skz fic#bang chan x you#bang chan x reader#chan x you#chan x reader#skz imagines#skz x you#skz x reader#bang chan stray kids#skz fanfic#stray kids fanfic#bang chan x female reader
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strangers | part 2
summary: nearly a month has passed since you agreed to go to california with joel, and you think you might love him. you trust him, and he makes you feel cared for and safe, but he hasn't been telling you the whole truth. eventually, you make a shocking discovery that makes him feel like a stranger to you all over again.
!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!
I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.
warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, DDDNE (graphic descriptions of blood, murder, and of captive/dead girls, non-con p-in-v sex (i'll say rape just in case but reader does not explicitly express non-consent), being held captive, degrading language toward victims/victim blaming, joel is implied to fantasize that you're dead while fucking you, kind of stockholm syndrome), non-con breathplay/choking, mommy & daddy issues, lying, gaslighting, coercion, manipulation, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart, babydoll, etc), no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags
word count: 8.1k
a/n: this is the second part. if the tags deter you from reading that's okay, just pretend joel and reader made it to california and they lived happily ever after. i understand i've written something dark and heavy and it isn't for everyone, you are welcome on my blog whether it's for you or not as long as everyone is respectful of each other <3
divider by @saradika
series masterlist/moodboard
read this chapter on ao3
part 3 (coming soon)
As the breeze begins to carry a chill that bites without the protection of a jacket or one of Joel’s flannels, the two of you have been spending the last month or so trying to outrun Autumn altogether as you make your way to California. You’ve crossed more state lines now than you ever could’ve imagined you would, and you and Joel have even made a game out of trying to spot the license plate of the farthest state away from wherever you are. He was impressed when you had recently managed to spot an Alaska plate in fucking Kansas, of all places.
You spend your days visiting cheesy tourist traps and collecting cheap souvenirs from their gift shops, and your nights in motels or in his truck or in goddamn gas station bathrooms tangled up in each other’s bodies, unable to keep your hands off each other. The seal had finally broken just a few days after you had agreed to go to California with him, when he had laid his hand on your knee while he was driving, and you didn’t stop him from sliding it higher and higher, his fingers eventually making their way between your thighs and gently rubbing your clit through your shorts. Joel would’ve been content to play with your pussy just like that, pinching at your little nub and dipping his fingers into your drooling hole as he drove, but the noises you were making were driving him fucking insane. He had pulled off into a wooded area and instructed you to climb into the backseat, where he had shoved himself inside of you for the first time and fucked you until you saw stars. You never made it to wherever it was you were headed to that afternoon, deciding instead to just call it a day and spend the rest of it covered in each other’s sweat and come and breathing heavily into each other’s necks.
You’ve seen new parts of Joel in other ways, too, in the time that you’ve been traveling with him. He’s been opening up to you, slowly but surely, as the weeks go on. You did eventually remember to ask him about that song you couldn’t quite make out at Moody’s, humming the bit of the chorus you could remember for him in hopes that he’d recognize it.
“I think I know the one, darlin’. Should have it on cassette somewhere here, ‘s called Alone and Forsaken, think it’s by Hank Williams. Hadn’t heard that one in a while, ‘s a winner, though,” he’d said.
You’d rifled through the contents of the glove box and pulled it out, excitedly swapping the tape with the one in the player and pressing the button on the dash to start the song. Joel’s fingers had begun to tap against the wheel immediately, and he seemed to relax at the sound of the guitar’s steady strumming. You had just watched him as the song played, admiring the subtle movements of the muscles in his face as he’d hummed along.
But he’d noticed your staring, after a while, and teased, “Y’know, really shouldn’t look at a man like that, babydoll. Might give ‘im some ideas.”
Babydoll. That was new, too. It had become his new favorite pet name for you, bestowed upon you when he had offered you another dress to wear from the stash of clothing belonging to Tommy’s daughter that he keeps under his backseat. Joel had told you eventually that he’d fibbed about his relationship with Tommy, just a little bit, and that he hasn’t actually seen him or his kid in quite some time. “Just kinda grew apart after a while, stopped keepin’ up with each other,” Joel had explained. “Jus’ never quite got around to gettin’ rid of all that stuff, I guess.”
You certainly didn’t mind having something new to wear, especially something as pretty as the little pink dress that got you your new name. Joel had looked at you hungrily when you’d first tried it on, raking his eyes up and down your form as you twirled for him.
“So pretty, sweetheart. Look just like a lil’ babydoll in that, don’t you?” Joel had complimented.
You’d giggled at the nickname, becoming shy as he’d stalked towards you and used a hooked finger to lift up your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his own. “Like that one, do ya? Like bein’ my babydoll, all mine?”
You’d sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, your brows peaked with need as your eyes had begun to glaze over from his gentle dominance. It had never taken much from him to make you start feeling a little floaty, even early on, ready to fall into his arms so he could make you gush onto his fingers or his cock or his tongue.
You’d nodded your head all syrupy and slow, making a little whimpering sound in affirmation.
“Say it,” he’d whispered, the hand propping up your chin slowly finding its way down to your neck, where it always seemed to land in your moments of intimacy. Joel had never really asked you if you liked it there or not, if you liked it when he squeezed your throat just right until your vision became spotty and your breath came out pinched and raspy, but you had learned to like it, to crave that guidance and control from him. He’d never taken it too far, just brought you teetering over the edge of unconsciousness, then allowed you to fill your lungs with air again.
“I like it, Joel, like being yours…”
“Yeah… ‘n you’re gonna be mine forever, huh? Never gonna leave my side, always gonna belong to me, ain’t that right?” His grip on your windpipe had begun to tighten as he questioned you.
“Forever… ‘m yours, Joel…” you’d promised through a hoarse whisper.
A growl had rumbled from deep in Joel’s chest at your choked words, and he’d quickly let go of your throat to spin you around and shove you face-first into the creaking motel mattress, flipping up the skirt of your little babydoll dress and showing you just how pretty he thought you looked in it. “Mine, mine, mine,” he’d chanted as he caged you in with his heavy form, slamming inside of your aching cunt until you cried out, shuddering around him as he spilled inside of you.
He calls you babydoll almost exclusively now, like it’s your actual name. Your everyday clothing consists almost entirely of frilly dresses and tiny tops and tight shorts from the supply in Joel’s truck, with maybe a few items he picks out for you at the occasional Goodwill mixed in. He’s made it so that you never have to think for yourself ever again, taking care of everything for you from picking out your outfits to ordering for you at the diners. All you have to worry about is being good, being his, his perfect little doll, and he says that you deserve a life as easy as this, that it’s the least he can do for you in exchange for your company, for being so good for him.
Joel does allow you to use your brain for some things, still, like bombarding him with the questions you’d begun stashing away in your mind all those weeks ago. Some of them he still answers vaguely, like where the scar on his nose came from, or if he’d been married before, or what his life was like before he met you. But sometimes you can get a story out of him, and it always feels like you’ve won the lottery when you’re able to get him talking. After the Hank Williams cassette had finished playing that day, you’d decided to ask him what he’d wanted to be when he grew up.
He’d thought about it for a second, and then laughed at himself. “‘F I tell you, I don’t wanna hear any gigglin’ outta you over there, ‘s that clear?”
“I can’t promise you that if I don’t know what you’re gonna tell me. If you say, like, a rodeo clown or something, I’m gonna laugh.”
Joel had just glared at you, and you’d rolled your eyes.
“Fine, I won’t laugh, I promise. Just tell me.”
“Alright…” Joel had sighed. “I wanted to be a singer, actually. Believe it or not.”
You had almost started crying right then, the visual of a little Joel all those years ago wanting to grow up and become a singer being almost too much to bear.
“Awe, Joel… You can sing? Can you—”
“No, I ain’t gonna sing for you. Don’t even ask, babydoll.”
Joel had seemed adamant about that at the time, but just a few days later when a violent thunderstorm was blowing through the town you’d stopped in for the night, you’d woken him up when you couldn’t fall asleep, and asked him in a trembling voice if he would sing for you. He’d just grunted and rolled back over at first, but you’d kept quietly begging him, and he eventually gave in to your little frightened sounding pleas. You’d rested your head against his chest as he stroked your hair and sang Alone and Forsaken for you a few times over, until the soothing sound of his voice and the quiet thumping of his heartbeat had lulled you back to sleep. The thunder had eventually retreated when it realized you weren’t scared of it anymore, now feeling safe and protected in Joel’s arms.
He could only take so much more questioning from you after a while, though, until he decided it was about time for you to reveal more of yourself to him, and you’d thought that was fair. You’d spent a whole afternoon in the truck one day telling him about how your dad had passed away when you were still in high school, and how you’d always wished he could’ve seen you walk across the stage at graduation and go off to college. How he was the one who’d even encouraged you to go in the first place, when you hadn’t felt smart enough or good enough at anything to ever find the pursuit worthwhile. But he’d always been supportive of your artistic endeavors, the ones your mom had always called ‘useless’ and ‘a waste of time’ and ‘nothing that could ever amount to a real job’. Your dad had tried his best to make you believe otherwise, always proudly displaying your work around the house when your mother would allow it, and even framing some of it for his office. It was devastating when he had passed, but at least you felt you could make him proud in some way, by deciding to pursue a degree in art at the nearby state school. But then your mother had ruined your chances of ever finishing the program, and, well… here you are now.
After you’d finished your story, Joel had comforted you just like he always did, promising to find you a sketchbook and some pencils at the next town you came across so you could keep nurturing your talents. He’d made good on his word, and now your time on the road is often spent sketching Joel, his cassettes, the mountains, anything you see that sparks inspiration and demands to be committed to paper.
Today, the two of you are on your way to see the world’s largest something or other in New Mexico, and you’ve become determined to etch a drawing onto every page of your book by the time you reach California. You’ve sketched just about everything in the truck at this point, and different tries at capturing Joel’s handsome side profile already take up more than half of the pages that you’ve filled out so far. You begin scouring the cabin of the truck, searching for something new you can draw. You eventually try bending forward to look under the bench seat, just in case you can find a crumpled up candy wrapper or something, but an even more interesting object catches your eye, tucked just behind Joel’s legs. It looks like an old shoebox, maybe containing some more tapes or things belonging to Tommy’s kid. You try to reach over to Joel’s side of the bench seat to grab it, and he almost swerves the truck off the road when he notices what you’re doing.
“What’re you…? Don’t touch that, babydoll, jus’ leave it alone,” he scolds.
You sit up straight again, taken aback by his tone. “Why? I was just looking for something new to draw, thought there might be something in there.”
“It’s just junk in there, baby, nothin’ you’d much be interested in,” Joel says, his grip on the steering wheel becoming more white-knuckled.
“So? I can’t draw some old junk?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Joel sighs in frustration. “‘Cause I said so, babydoll, Christ. Just leave it be, I’ll throw it out next time we stop. Find somethin’ else to draw.”
“Okay… ‘M sorry,” you respond timidly.
“‘S alright, sweet girl. ‘M sorry too, shouldn’ta yelled at you like that. Just… tryin’ to drive here, don’t want you reachin’ behind my legs and shit, ain’t safe.”
You just nod, popping open the glove compartment for the hundredth time in hopes that there could be something in there that you’d missed before. There isn’t, so you decide to pluck out that Hank Williams tape and sketch it again, humming the song to yourself in an attempt at self-soothing as you begin to outline the shape of it. It seems like a bad time to ask Joel to sing it for you again, but if you’re good for the rest of the day and make up for your earlier mistake, maybe you could hear it again tonight.
—
You’re just finishing up your sketch a half hour or so later, when Joel decides it’s time to stop for gas. You glance over at the fuel gauge on the dash, and it looks like the truck still has half a tank left, but you decide not to say anything about it. Just like he’d said when you had first reached for the shoebox, Joel swipes it from underneath the seat as he exits the truck, tossing it haphazardly into the trash can by the gas pump.
“Dammit,” you hear him curse to himself, and you look out the window to see him staring angrily at the empty pocket inside of his wallet where cash should be. Joel opens up the passenger side door to explain, “Forgot I used up the last o’ my cash on dinner last night. Just… stay here, babydoll, gotta head inside ‘n use the ATM quick, alright?”
You nod obediently, and watch him take long strides toward the convenience store before disappearing inside.
He’ll only be gone for a few minutes at the most, so you know that you have to make your move now. You’ve never had Joel bark at you before like he’d done when you had reached for that beat up cardboard box, and you still feel a little rattled by it. What could possibly have been in there that he didn’t want you to see? For the first time, you feel like you might not be able to trust him, and it makes you feel a little sick. You’ve started to feel like you might love Joel, and you think he probably feels the same way, even if you haven’t said those exact three words to each other yet. Someone who loves you wouldn’t hide things from you, would they? Especially not after you’ve already bared so much of your souls to each other, after you’ve decided that you belong to each other.
There’s only one way to find out, you decide.
You exit the truck quietly, swiftly closing the short distance between you and the trash can and peering into the black plastic bag that lines it. You fish out the shoebox from where it lays on top of other garbage, and crouch down in front of the gas pump to hide yourself from view. Taking a steadying breath, you carefully remove the weathered lid from the box and begin to examine its contents. At first glance, it seems to just be full of washed-out polaroids and a few random objects—a tarnished charm bracelet, a fraying ribbon, and a cracked pair of glasses among them. What is all this stuff? You think to yourself, Keepsakes from his former life, more of Tommy’s daughter’s things that he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of yet?
You pick up a photo laying face down on top of the pile and turn it over, almost immediately dropping it back into the box in favor of clapping your hand over your open mouth. You shut your eyes tightly as they begin to water, hoping that when you open them again, you’ll find that you were wrong about what you had just seen. That it was just a trick of the light, that it wasn’t what it seemed, that you had just imagined it.
But you aren’t so fortunate.
Your heart plummets into your stomach as you peer inside the box again, a sickly feeling of dread beginning to claw its way up the back of your neck. You examine the photo more closely, and it appears to be of a girl who looks about your age, bound at the hands, gagged, and naked. She’s kneeling on the damp forest floor, staring up at the photographer with a defeated, glazed-over expression. She’s bruised, bleeding from her nose, and filthy, with her hair tangled in knots and mascara-stained tears running down her cheeks. The photo looks to have captured her last moments alive.
One by one, you quickly examine a dozen or so more photos as your pulse hammers hard in your throat. Each of them are nearly identical, all depicting a pretty early twenty-something, either restrained and begging for her life or already dead. They all have dates scribbled on the front that are spaced out a mere couple of weeks from each other, with the names of the girls written on the backs of them. To your horror, you notice that some of the polaroids even have bloody fingerprints staining their white frames. It seems impossible that Joel could be the one who took these photos, that he could be the one to reduce these young girls to nothing more than weak puddles of tears and blood. You begin desperately trying to convince yourself that this is all part of a fucked-up nightmare you’re moments away from waking up from, until a photo containing a bright flash of white catches your eye. You can’t help how your face contorts into a grimace when you examine the photo closer, your stomach lurching at the sight of the amount of blood spilling from the back of the girl’s head as she lays lifeless on a wooden floor. All that she’s wearing are her underwear and a white tank top, the ditsy floral pattern of which you could swear you’ve seen before.
You don’t understand why it looks so familiar to you until you spread around more of the polaroids in the box, and spot one capturing a girl tied up and gagged on a motel bed, wearing a baby pink dress that grotesquely juxtaposes the depravity of her situation. She has wide, pleading doe eyes and ribbons finishing the ends of each of her braids that kind of make her look like… a doll.
The realization hits you all at once, that nearly all of the clothes Joel has given you since the day you met him had never belonged to Tommy’s daughter at all, if he even has one, if Tommy even really exists. You’d been wearing Anna’s white tank top with the delicate floral print. Elizabeth’s pink babydoll dress. Even the clothes you have on now probably belonged to some of Joel’s victims, but you don’t think you can stand to find out which ones.
Your thoughts begin to spiral out of control, an irrational part of your brain working overtime to come up with a million reasons why this can’t be true, that there has to be some other explanation for what you’re seeing, until you pick up a final photo, where the sleeve of Joel’s drab olive flannel is clearly visible in the corner. The shirt is tattered at the cuffs in the exact way that Joel’s is, and it has the same terracotta striping woven through the plaid pattern. Emerging from the bottom of the sleeve is a tanned, thick hand, wrapped tightly around a pale, fragile neck, with some of the girl’s blonde ringlet curls poking through the gaps between his fingers. When you flip over the photo, your blood runs cold when you read the name inscribed on the back—Ruby.
Your tears begin to fall then. How strange, how cruel, that fate has led you here, lured you straight to him. Someone that you thought you knew, trusted, loved, who’s suddenly a stranger to you all over again. You’ve just been doomed from the start, haven’t you? All along, it was Joel who had been responsible for building the trap you’ve found yourself ensnared in now. Ruby hadn’t run away at all that summer, hadn’t found a place she belonged, a place to start a real life for herself, a place to see her unlimited potential finally fulfilled. She’d met Joel, and he’d restricted her existence to nothing more than a polaroid that he keeps in a fucking shoebox under the seat of his truck. All along, this is where she’d been.
You feel like throwing up. You’re reeling, completely horrified and sick to your stomach, your life as you had just come to know it having come crashing down around you in an instant. You quickly replace the lid on the box and throw it back into the trash can, hopefully never to be seen again. You scramble back inside the truck just in time for the convenience store door to swing open again, the little bell accompanying the movement sounding sharp and sinister as it announces Joel’s imminent arrival. Your pulse pounds erratically against your ribcage as you try to act as naturally as possible, forcing your shaking hands to look like they’re busy adding the finishing touches to your latest sketch.
You don’t look at Joel as he approaches the truck, and he doesn’t seem to pay you much attention, either. He leans against the hood casually once he feeds the bills into the pump, letting the tank fill the rest of the way up with gas. You have to come up with an escape plan now, before your poorly disguised agitation gives you away and he figures out what you’ve seen.
When his task is finished, Joel climbs back into the driver’s seat exhales a deep breath, like he feels relieved to have finally discarded the evidence so you’d never find out the truth about him. You’re determined to keep him clueless for as long as you can.
“Ready to keep goin’, babydoll? Should only be another hour or so ‘fore we get to the next stop,” he asks, reaching over to you to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. You flinch away from his touch instinctually, then silently curse yourself for already doing such a shitty job at keeping up your facade.
“A-actually, um…” You swallow hard. “I’m kinda g-getting a headache, it really hurts. And I feel really s-sick. Is it okay if we just… go straight to a motel? I just wanna… lay down,” you lie, screwing up your face into a pained wince and wrapping your arms around your stomach in an effort to make it all more convincing.
“Oh, you poor thing…” Joel coos, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “Y’ do feel kinda hot… Sure, darlin’. Think there’s a place not too much further down the road here, jus’ hang tight.”
“T-thank you,” you reply weakly. Your voice is coming out a little uneven, but you hope it just adds to the believability of your act instead of raising suspicion. You try to cover it up with a cough and a little pained groan, just for good measure.
Joel doesn’t waste any more time getting back on the road, and you stay quiet for the short ride to the nearest motel, doing your best to hold back your tears and even out your breathing. You’ll need to be calm and clear-headed in order to have any chance at escape, lest you want to meet the same fate as the dozens of other girls who were probably also blinded by Joel’s southern charm and good looks, who were manipulated by his lies and tricked into believing that he could give them a happy ending. Was he ever going to let you see California? Or had he been leading you to your death all along?
You’re going to be the one who lives. For Ruby, you have to be. For all of them.
—
Just like the first night you’d spent with him, Joel has you wait in the truck while he checks in at the counter and retrieves the keys to your room before coming back to get you. You fake a stumble when you step down from the truck, and Joel mumbles a ‘Jesus, babydoll’ before hoisting you into his arms and carrying you across the room’s threshold, setting you down softly onto the bed.
“Whaddya need, sweet girl? Water? Some crackers, or somethin’? Bet I could ask the front desk if they got some medicine or anythin’ like that,” Joel asks, sitting on the edge of the bed while you curl up and turn away from him. You do your best not to flinch this time when he decides to comfortingly massage the back of your neck.
“Can you ask, please? It hurts so bad,” you whine, unable to tamp down your shuddering sobs any longer.
“Sure I will, my poor lil’ girl… I’ll be right back, alright?”
Joel pets your hair for a moment, and the gesture would normally flood your belly with lovesick butterflies, but it only feels predatorial now, like a lion trying to convince its prey that it only wants to play, that it won’t be torn to pieces and eaten alive.
Your body finally relaxes when Joel leaves the room, and you count out thirty seconds to hopefully allow him to reach the front office before you make your break. When you whisper the final ‘thirty’ to yourself, you spring out of bed and sprint out the door, almost tripping over your own feet in your race to reach the payphone you’d spotted earlier in the parking lot. You figured that trying to call for help would be a smarter move than running, and you’d never make it far on foot, anyway, not in the flimsy little dress and cheap canvas sneakers you’re wearing. You’d stolen a few quarters out of the truck’s center console while Joel was letting the gas pump, and you shakily deposit them into the slot, nearly dropping them. You punch the numbers 9-1-1 into the keypad, nearly ripping the phone clean off the hook as you bring it up to your ear.
“Come on, come on, come on…” You mutter to yourself, drumming your bitten fingernails against the hard plastic handset as the mocking dial tone trills in your ear.
“911, what is your emergency?” comes a voice on the other line, female.
“Please, I need hel–” but before you can even finish the word, he’s on you, one large hand clapped over your mouth while the other rips the phone out of your hand and slams it back into the receiver. You kick and bite and thrash, but your pitiful attempts at escape do nothing to deter him. After all, his pickup is the only car in the lot, and your room is the only one with a light on. The clerk who checked him in could have never existed at all, for all you know. There’s not a soul around to hear you cry or beg or scream, except for him. You should have known that he would see straight through you, that he would’ve anticipated you getting curious and made sure he was always one step ahead of you. Joel drags you back to the room with a two-handed grasp on your upper arm, gripped onto you hard enough you’re sure his fingertips will leave bruises.
“No, no, no, please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Joel!” You plead, using his first name in a pathetic effort to try to appeal to whatever morality he might have left.
“You stupid fuckin’ bitch…” he spits.
Joel kicks open the door to your room and flings it shut behind him so hard you’re surprised the wood doesn’t shatter, splintering into a million sharp little pieces. He throws you down onto the stained double bed you’ll be sharing tonight, if he doesn’t decide to use the yellowed comforter to wrap your lifeless corpse in later instead. You push yourself up into a sitting position and brace yourself for whatever he’ll do to you for disobeying him, for trying to escape. You’ve never seen this side of him before, never even come close to upsetting him like this in the time that you’ve known him.
“Don’t know who the fuck you were tryin’ to call, but you better get it through that dumb fuckin’ brain of yours that nobody gives a fuck about you anymore except for me, you got that? Cops ain’t gonna do nothin’ about some fuckin’ runaway slut, ‘specially not one who’s got nobody to miss her in the first place. ‘S why you ran away, ‘s why I picked you up… ‘Cause we both know ain’t nobody gonna come lookin’ for you. Wouldn’t be able to find your body even if they did,” he barks at you, a huge paw wrapped in the hair at the base of your skull to keep your gaze trained on him.
“Please, please don’t hurt me! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do it again, I promise–”
“Y’ know… I saved you from that hell hole, I gave you everything, and this is the fuckin’ thanks I get?!” The low gravel of his voice seems to be coming from somewhere deep and cavernous inside of him. It fills the entire room with a black smoke that penetrates your eardrums and fills your mouth with something bitter.
“I know, I know, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you–”
“Yeah, I know you weren’t fuckin thinkin’. Dumb fuckin’ cunt.” Joel releases your hair and you collapse in on yourself, beginning to sob all over again. You know it probably makes you look weak in front of him, but you can’t help it as the dread washes over you. You’re on the verge of hyperventilating, wondering if this will be the one mistake that seals your fate, if he’ll let you live long enough to see those aching little imprints on your arm from where he grabbed you bloom into purple-red blotches in the morning. With your eyes shut tight and hot tears streaming down your cheeks, you’re heaving, trying to catch your breath as you release broken little noises that sound like sorry, sorry, sorry. The repeated apology almost resembles some kind of prayer, as if that could save you now.
He lets you run the gamut of your terror for a minute before pinching the bridge of his nose, the calloused pads of his fingers squeezing that angry red scar that adorns it. He expels a heavy sigh and sits beside you on the bed, the springs of the old mattress screeching as they dip with his weight.
“C’mere, babydoll,” he says, quietly now, and you feel too weak to fight him as he pulls you into his lap and helps you to straddle your legs across his thick waist. You can feel his hardening bulge against your core through the thin material of your panties, exposed now by the skirt of your dress riding up and pooling at the creases of your thighs.
“‘S okay, darlin’ I forgive you.” He lets you cry into his shoulder as he shushes you, rocking you side to side and petting the top of your head as if he were soothing a spooked little dog. When you’re able to take deep breaths again, your senses are flooded with his familiar comforting scent. The combination of his natural cologne and the softness of his voice reaches inside some deep corner of your brain that isn’t completely terrorized and disgusted by him, and it’s enough for you to lift your head up to face him again.
“Y-you do?” You squeak out as you sniffle, and Joel wipes away the last of your salty tears with one of his rough thumbs, sucking it into his mouth afterwards. He lets out a soft groan before gripping your jaw so that the fat of your cheeks makes your lips pucker.
“Yeah, babydoll… But why would you try to go off runnin’ like that, hm? Thought you were mine, my girl, thought we understood each other.”
His tone, the furrow in his brows and the slight pout of his lips make you feel guilty, somehow, upset with yourself for making him feel this way, for trying to run from his care and affection. “I-I thought so, too. But then… then I…” you stutter, finding it impossible to speak coherently anymore.
“Then what, babydoll?” Joel prompts calmly, stroking his thumb along your cheek as he squeezes it.
“T-the box… I saw—”
“Yeah… You saw my girls, didn’t you, baby? That’s why you tried to run, ain’t it? Look at me, babydoll.”
Joel jostles your face in his grip, and you obey his command, nodding slowly. When you look into his eyes, you finally notice how dark they’ve become, their usual warm amber color now appearing more red.
“You… you killed her. I-it was you.”
“Which one’re you talkin’ about, baby? Collected a lotta girls over the years, lose track of ‘em after a while.”
Your stomach churns at his callousness. “R-Ruby… I saw h-her. Y-you… you were…” You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, your words interrupted by your hiccuping breaths.
“Oh, Ruby…” Joel shifts his hips into yours, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he closes his eyes for a moment, turning over her name on his tongue. “Yeah… She was a pretty thing, wasn’t she? Feisty one, though. ‘Bout broke my goddamn nose. Wasn’t gonna be so rough with her, but… she practically asked for it.” He brushes his finger across the scar on his face, and your eyes well up again when you make the connection. “What else did you see, hm? Talk t’ me about it, babydoll.” Even through his jeans, you can feel that he’s fully hard now, turned on at the prospect of reliving those gruesome scenes.
Nauseating visions of the polaroids flash across your memory—the girl bleeding from the back of her head, the one with the cut throat, the one with her neck bent at an unnatural angle. “No, please don’t make me…” you shake your head at him, your bottom lip trembling as you fight back more stinging tears.
Joel releases his hold on your face in favor of giving your cheek a harsh smack. “Wasn’t a fuckin’ question, girl.”
You use his loosened grip as an opportunity to try to scramble out of his lap, hitting your hands against his chest as you try to push off the bed and get back onto your feet.
“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so. Quit fuckin’ strugglin’.”
He’s got you flipped onto your back in a second, with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He stands between your parted thighs, and you look up at him through blurred vision, one of his strong hands now attempting to cut off the blood supply to your brain as he uses the other to free his thick cock from his jeans. His teeth are bared, and the look in his eyes is faraway, as if the Joel you thought you knew is somewhere else entirely, miles away from this dingy motel room off the side of the freeway. He’s long gone now, replaced by this monstrous version of him that you don’t recognize.
“Keep fightin’, see what fuckin’ happens… I’d take the prettiest photos of you, y’ know that? Add you to my lil’ collection, have no choice but to be mine forever… You’d fit right in, babydoll, this perfect fuckin’ body.”
He slides a hand up and down his leaking shaft as he rambles, and it’s impossible to deny how much it excites him, talking about his killing, his ritual.
“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, promised myself I’d be done after the last one but—fuck—just can’t fuckin’ stop myself. ‘S just so goddamn easy,” Joel hisses through his teeth. His hand never leaves your neck as he flips up the skirt of your dress and yanks your ashamedly damp panties down your trembling legs. He flings them haphazardly onto a discolored patch of carpet in the corner of the room, and it makes you wince, imagining how he must’ve disposed of so many other girls before you in the same careless manner.
As hopeless as it seems now, you won’t be one of them. You don’t have any other choice, you have to make it out of this alive, you have to do something.
“W-what… what is?” You manage to choke out.
Joel looks down at you, almost startled, as if you’re an inanimate object speaking to him, like he didn’t expect you to have a voice.
“Huh?”
“Y-you said… it’s so easy. What’s easy?”
He licks his lips as he thinks on his response, a sickly smile tugging at the corners. “Pickin’ up a pretty slut nobody’s gonna miss, takin’ her home with me and turnin’ her fuckin’ lights out. They practically do it to themselves with all their strugglin’ and bitin’ and scratchin’, just want ‘em to fuckin’—unh—behave.”
You whine as he pushes his tip inside your little hole, but try to maintain your composure. You think you understand now, why he’s acting this way. He wants you to want to be with him, and it triggers some kind of deepset anger inside of him when you fight, when you run, when you throw his affection back in his face. Killing the girls might not even be his end goal, at least not when he first takes them, more like an inevitable side effect of what happens when they try to escape his captivity and he feels rejected, hurt, tossed aside. And then he lashes out. And then they die. And then the cycle repeats. You’d lasted this long because you’d been the first to not reject his advances, because he’d seen himself in you.
If you don’t fight, if you can keep him talking, if you can convince him that this is what you want, you might have a chance at survival. It’s not much of a strategy, but it’s something, and it’s better than giving up.
“How… how do you d-do it?” you ask, a little less rasp in your voice as his grip on your throat begins to loosen, but his hand never leaves it entirely. He slides the rest of his cock inside you as you stutter out your question, and he laughs.
“You sure you wanna hear it, babydoll? Might be a bit much for you.” He’s fully seated inside you now, and the stretch of him burns. Even though the two of you have been fucking like bunnies practically every day since you’ve met, you can only fight against your body so much, and the fear you’re trying desperately not to clue him into is making every one of your muscles tighten around him.
“No! No, I-I wanna know. Tell me, please…” You bat your eyelashes up at him for good measure, and his canine grin widens some more.
“God, y’ really are just as fucked up as I am, huh? ‘S why I kept you around, ‘cause you’re like me…” He begins to piston his thick length in and out of you, affectionately tucking a lock of hair behind your ear with his free hand as he does. The other one constricts your airflow once again, and you stifle a whimper, suppressing the urge to argue and spit back that you’re not like him. “Usually strangle ‘em, little throats always fit so perfectly in my hands, jus’ like this…”
His voice trails off as he shoves into you harder, picking up his pace. Your breathing becomes broken and frantic as you claw through the black cloud closing in on your vision in your effort to keep him talking. “And then what?” you squeak out.
“Squeeze ‘em, real hard and slow,” Joel growls. “Try not to come in my jeans just from the pathetic lil’ sounds they make when they’re prayin’ to God to save ‘em. Ain’t so gentle with ‘em if they put up too much of a fight, though. Jus’ gotta cut the shit sometimes, slice ‘em open or split their fuckin’ skulls just to make ‘em stop. God, you’d never believe the amount of blood a lil’ girl like you’s got in ‘em.” He’s slamming his hips into your sore cunt now, both hands wrapped tightly around your neck as he uses it for leverage. You feel your muscles begin to slacken, either from the lack of oxygen or from his just-right strokes against that little spot deep inside, you can’t be sure. It was just a survival instinct, you’ll tell yourself in the morning.
“Yeah? It’s… it’s a lot?” you prompt, skin feeling tingly and voice coming out hoarse, sounding like it had come from somewhere else other than your own body. It could’ve just been the wind, a tractor-trailer whistling by outside.
“Yeah, ‘s a lot. Bleed so fuckin’ much, y’ think it might never stop. Just keeps—fuck—comin’...”
Joel’s voice breaks on the telltale word, his thrusts becoming frenzied and disjointed as he nears his release. A few high-pitched moans manage to squeeze past your compressed vocal chords, and they’re half-genuine, half-forced as a means to spur him on and speed up the process. The stretches of skin between his thumbs and forefingers are pressing down, down, down against your windpipe, and you plead with him as coherently as possible in your race against that darkness threatening to swallow you whole.
“C-come, Joel, p-please, want you to—”
“Shut up, babydoll. Fuck… Eyes on me, c’mon,” he orders, shaking you by the neck to wake you up a bit, prevent your eyes from closing all the way. “Look at me. Just… lay fuckin’ still, don’t make a sound. Hold your goddamn breath, okay? Don’t even fuckin’ blink.”
He’s never demanded something like this before, but you aren’t exactly in a position to disobey. You do as he asks, and some of it comes involuntarily, anyway. With your hands laid at your sides, eyes looking into Joel’s own but somehow past them, unblinking, your mouth slack and lungs paralyzed, you almost feel like…
Like one of them.
“Tha’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants to himself, rutting into your limp body with abandon as he chases his high. You can’t help but let another tear slip past your lashes, and he doesn’t wipe it away this time.
A few more bruising pulses of his cock later, and all the blood rushes back into your head at once as Joel lets go of his vice grip around your neck, collapsing on top of your still form and breathing heavily into the damp skin of your neck where your wet tears have collected. He stays like that for a while, still slotted inside you, and you let him come back into himself for as long as he needs, not daring to move a muscle until he permits you to do so.
Joel slides himself out of your leaking hole when he’s finally caught his breath, grunting as he pushes himself up off the bed and runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He studies your abused form, then tuts when he notices the marks he left around your throat.
“Better make sure you wear your hair down tomorrow, I reckon. Got a decent record of keepin’ the law off my ass, I’d rather keep it that way.”
Tomorrow. He plans on letting you live. Until then, anyway.
“Okay,” you agree quietly.
Joel doesn’t let you out of his sight again for the rest of the evening. He’d helped you up off the bed and into the shower, where he’d cleaned both of your bodies and scrubbed the dried tears and sweat from your skin. He’d sunk his claws into your scalp as he washed your hair under the scalding water, and you wondered if the suds could carry even the intangible filth down the drain with it—the guilt, the fear, the defeat, the violation. You almost wish you hadn’t looked in the box at all. What difference would it have made, if you’d stayed with him in ignorance? Those girls are still dead. It’s not like you can save them now. You couldn’t even save yourself.
Joel changes you into one of his large t-shirts for you to sleep in tonight, instead of a frilly nightgown or something else short and revealing that he’d usually pick out for you. You suppose that the choice of clothing acts as a more visible representation of his ownership over you. He’s marking his territory, scenting you like a dog. Like you’re his bitch.
Joel holds you suffocatingly close to him in bed that night, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that it’s difficult for your ribs to expand. He keeps one hand possessively wrapped around the column of your neck, not squeezing, just to remind you what he’s capable of. As if you could ever forget.
“Y’know what, babydoll? I think we could be partners, you and I,” Joel says in a slow, gravelly voice, right next to your ear.
“W-what do you mean?” You whisper back into the darkness.
“I just… I tried to quit, y’ know, but I don’t think I can. I don’t want to. Too damn old and slow to keep chasin’ after ‘em anymore, but… ‘f I keep you around, you’d just make the perfect bait, wouldn’t you? That pretty face, sweet lil’ smile, you could lure ‘em straight to me, they’d never see it comin’.”
“See… what coming?”
“My hands. The knife. A fuckin’ rock. Whatever, ‘s up to them.”
His words linger in the air, and you know you should say something, but how could you possibly respond to what he’s asking of you?
“You want me to… to kill—”
“No, no, ‘course not, babydoll. Wouldn’t even have to be in the room while it’s happenin’, would never ask my sweet girl to get her hands dirty like that. Jus’ gotta bring ‘em to me, tha’s all. Maybe go after ‘em if they try to run. I mean… you’d rather it be them than you, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Joel’s hand closes in around your throat, and you understand now what he’s offering you—a deal. Your life in exchange for helping him grow his collection of victims, helping him satisfy his urges. He’s made you feel indebted to him, like you owe him something in exchange for letting you live tonight. He thinks he’s found something special in you, a victim who finally can’t run away from him, who won’t, now. There’s enough of a connection still here, although held together by fear, that he knows you won’t try escaping again. Because he saved you, the first time from starving on the side of the road, the second time from himself. And you owe him your life, now, in some form or another.
You only nod against the pillow, but it seems to be enough for him.
Joel kisses the back of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. “I love you, babydoll.”
His fingers press harder against your arteries, making it clear that you have no choice but to respond with what he wants to hear.
“I love you too, Joel.”
The words are still true, you think, somehow. But it just feels like you’re saying them to a stranger now.
You wish you would’ve listened to the one useful thing your mother had ever told you—not to talk to strangers, or you might fall in love.
tag list: tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg @alex-does-art-things @evolnoomym @annoyingmarvelreader @k1l4ni @joelsdagger @hjzghi-blog @natalieispunk (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)
#my writing#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller smut#dark!joel miller#dark!joel x reader
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imagine innocent!kabukimono going wild
smut. afab reader, fingering, tiny angst before kabukimono went wild. not proofread so... grammar errors(?)
i was too busy playing project sekai, everyone. i'm sorry. also, thank you for 200 followers. .·°՞(≧▽≦)՞°·.
kabukimono was a puppet. a naive puppet. or at least that's what you thought. he was new to the world, especially to human's feelings. he didn't understand them yet why– why did he feel so warm around you? why was he so afraid you might leave him as well? why did his heart goes doki-doki around you and his palm grow all sweaty whenever he's with you?
ah, it must be that– friends. but wait, friends don't feel like that toward each other, was what one of the kids in the village said. at last, he made up his mind to tell you about this matter instead.
"y/n?" as usual, you were reading a book when kabukimono suddenly knocked on your door. you turned around to find him looking at you with that innocent face of his. "hm? what is it?" you petted the empty space beside you, inviting him to sit beside you on the bed.
kabukimono walked over to you, noticing how tired you looked after helping the villagers for the day. he sat down beside you and laid his head on your lap, his arms snaking around your waist. he felt safe and loved being close to you. he didn't know why he did this, but he couldn't help himself. he just really liked to be near you.
naturally, you ran your fingers through his indigo hair despite being in confusion. "what's wrong?" your eyebrows furrowed as you asked him softly. did something bad happen to him that caused him to be this clingy? you were beyond concerned.
he suddenly looked up at you, his eyes full of tears, causing you to panicked. "I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice shaking. seeing him cry definitely made your heart ache. you quickly wiped his tears away as you too began to feel emotional, feeling tears forming in your eyes. "i- i won't leave you. i won't leave you, okay? so don't cry." your voice cracked as you said so.
kabukimono hugged you tighter, burying his face into your chest. he believed that you wouldn't abandon him, no matter what happened, but he's still scared. it was as if there's a voice in his head telling him you'd eventually leave him sooner or later. even so, having you there gave him some comfort.
"gosh..." a silent sigh left your lips as he cried softly on your chest. he's too schmaltzy, you couldn't even do anything about it. that's when you got an idea. "shall i kiss you to cheer you up?" you suggested, trying to stop him from crying. a little crazy idea, but that would do it.
kabukimono looked up at you, his eyes wide with surprise. he didn't expect such a thing from you, but he also didn't mind it. he nodded eagerly, his cheeks still wet from his tears. without a word, he leaned forward, giving you permission to do whatever you wanted. you could do anything you wanted to him, and he would let you.
you let out a chuckle as you felt him getting more and more excited. you couldn't help but think of him as a sad puppy. when you gave him food, he'd immediately get excited. slowly, you leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, and lastly, his lips. the kiss was slow and short as your hand crawled up to cupped his pale, soft cheeks.
a moment later, you pulled away to be met with a warm cheeks kabukimono. "there. do you feel better now? or should i kiss you more?" you asked with a small smile. your cheeks weren't that different from his, hinting that you're probably shy and your heart was beating millions per seconds yet you still acted like this was nothing to you.
the corner of kabukimono’s lips curled upward, feeling much better. you kissed him just to cheer him up, and he was grateful. he leaned closer to you, giving you another small peck on the lips. this time, he held onto you tighter, not wanting to let go. you instantly reciprocated his hug, feeling warm in your chest and butterflies in your stomach. you pinched his cheek softly, earning a grunt from him, "you're so cute. i wish i could kiss you more." you blurted out accidentally.
kabukimono looked up at you with surprise, his eyes glistening under the room's light. he knew you meant well, and he trusted you completely. he leaned in again, he didn't hesitate as he pressed his lips against yours. he was nervous, but he also found himself enjoying the sensation. the reason was unknown, but he liked it so much, and he knew he wanted more. more kisses, more touches, more closeness. he needed them to survive.
you closed your eyes, savouring the taste of his saliva and the feel of his skin against yours. but the kiss quickly turned into a heat make-out session as he pushed you, so you're laying on the bed while he's on top of you. his wet tongue was now inside your mouth as he explored the depth of it. though, the longer you kiss him, the harder it was for you to breathe hence you pulled away, trying to catch your breath. kabukimono was fine as he's a puppet, he didn't need to breathe.
"have you kissed someone before?" it was kind of unbelievable that you're asking this question. but he was just too good at kissing, and it made you flustered. and for a second, you forgot you're making out with kabukimono, himself.
he shook his head, unable to speak due to the lack of vocal cords. he looked fine to you, but on the inside, he was really nervous and excited. grabbing your hands, he held onto them tightly. he wanted to tell you that he had never been kissed before, and he was so happy that you were his first kiss. he wanted to tell you that he loved you and that he would never leave you. but he couldn't, so he just held onto you, hoping that his actions would convey his feelings.
an awkward smile appeared on your feature when you realised you couldn't move your hands. "i– i see... i'm sorry, that was wrong of me." you teared your gaze away from him as blush creeped up your cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed because of your wrong assumption.
however, when you turned your head to the side, his hand grabbed your chin, forcefully making you look at him. his eyes held no malice, but it was no lie that you felt a little stunned and shocked at his sudden behaviour. when his eyes locked with yours, it seemed like an electric charge kept you from looking away. before you even realised, he crashed his lips against yours once again. this time, harder with a tad of hunger.
kabukimono moaned softly as he kissed you. his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you as you whimpered and writhed underneath him in response. he wanted to touch you everywhere, and he didn't care if it was wrong or not. he was lost in the moment, and he wanted to stay that way forever. as he kissed you, he felt a surge of energy flow through him, filling him with life and happiness. it was the first time he had ever experienced something like this, and he wanted more. he wanted to feel this way all the time, with you by his side.
he wanted to express his love and gratitude to you, but he didn't have the words. instead, he showed you through his actions. he didn't mean to push you, but he was so desperate for affection and connection. his body responded to you in ways he didn't understand, and he didn't care. all he cared about was being close to you and experiencing these newfound feelings. he wanted to feel you deep within him, to hear your moans of pleasure, to feel your body tremble underneath his. he was lost in his own desires.
you couldn't believe how fast things escalated. he was so overwhelmed by his own emotions that he lost control. in the beginning, he thought you would be upset, but when he saw you all blushing and flustered, it only fueled his desire to kiss you more.
kabukimono groaned as he continued to kiss you passionately. he felt his body reacting to your touch, and he couldn't stop himself. he wanted to please you, and he would do anything to make sure you were satisfied. reaching down between your legs, he felt your wetness and excitement. he slid one finger under your kimono and pushed it inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure, his other hand still holding on your wrists tightly.
your soft whimpers were muffled by his lips as he began to thrust his slender finger inside you. you kept bucking your hips, trying to chase the pleasure he's giving you. "one– one more finger, please..." you pleaded. how could he refuse, especially when you begged him with your sweet voice and that cute face of yours.
kabukimono nodded eagerly, his eyes bright with desire. he slid another finger inside of you, causing you to cry out louder than before. he continued to thrust his fingers inside of you, moaning into your mouth as he did so. he wanted to make you feel good, and he wouldn't stop until you came on his fingers.
feeling an orgasm building up, you clenched your fingers as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers. when the coil in your stomach finally snapped, you moaned his name loudly, white liquid came spilling all over his fingers shamelessly. you panted heavily as your clit throbbed with neediness. you had just orgasmed, but you felt like it wasn't enough. though, you quickly dismissed that thought as you focused on kabukimono, who's right on top of you.
kabukimono grinned, feeling satisfied with his work. he leaned down and pressed his lips to your neck, sucking on it gently. "I want to please you," he said simply. he crawled off of you, then stood up. reaching for his kimono, he pulled it off and dropped it to the floor. he reached for your kimono as well, pulling it off you. he watched you carefully, wanting to make sure you were okay with everything he was doing. he then took off his own shorts, revealing his eager and hard cock, twitching to be inside you.
he wasted no time positioning himself above you before lining his hardened member with your entrance, wanting to feel your tight walls wrapped around him. he started to slowly enter you, giving you time to get used to his size, which earned a small moan from you.
kabukimono groaned as he felt you wrap yourself around his cock. he leaned down, pressing his lips to your neck once more. he moved his hips, starting to thrust slowly, each movement causing him to moan into your ear. eventually, he let go of your wrists as he reached down, cupping your breasts in his hands. he played with your nipples, rubbing them gently to further stimulate you.
he let out a breathy moan, his eyes shut as he began to thrust into you. he wanted to take you to heaven and back tonight, and he wouldn't stop until you screamed his name (again) in pleasure. he bit his lip, feeling your walls tightening around him and he increased his speed, fucking you hard and fast.
soft moans began spilling from your lips, feeling the way he slammed into you and reached the deepest parts of your pussy. god, you felt so good, your gummy walls wrapped tightly around him.
kabukimono moaned into your ear, his hands running through your hair. kissing your cheek, your neck, your collarbone, he increased his speed, wanting to feel you come around him. he felt your walls squeeze around his cock, causing him to groan in satisfaction. as if that's not enough, he pinched your nipples, causing you to mewled in pleasure.
your moans grew more desperate the faster and the sloppier he thrusted into you. moaning his name loudly as you came on his cock, your thighs trembling and your walls fluttering around his length. he wailed, feeling your walls contract around his cock. he came, shooting his seed deep within you. he held onto you tightly, not wanting to let go. kissing your forehead, he gave you a warm smile. "one more round, yeah?" he whispered before leaning down and giving you an open-mouthed kiss.
#genshin x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#scaramouche imagines#kabukimono imagines#wanderer imagines#kunikuzushi imagines#scaramouche x you#kabukimono x you#wanderer smut#kunikuzushi x you#scaramouche x reader#kabukimono x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#wanderer x reader#scaramouche smut#kunikuzushi smut#kabukimono smut#wanderer x you#wanderer#scara#scaramouche#kunikuzushi#kabukimono#scaramouche x y/n#kabukimono x y/n#kunikuzushi x y/n#wanderer x y/n
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boy, you got her — r. cameron
part 1. part 2. part 3. here's part 4 (or whatever part this is to you, depending on how much you've read). i just couldn't help myself :)
❝ it's true, swear, scouts honor
you knew what you wanted and,
boy, you got her ❞
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
context: after a fallout at the boneyard with jj and kie, you agree to a date with rafe.
words: 1.9k+
warnings: jealous!jj, mean!jj (kind of), so so SO fluffy.
"look, i know it's kinda sudden, a'ight?" rafe glances over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. "and you don't have to answer right now. just think about it."
when you and jj broke up, the last thing you would've guessed to happen next was getting into a friends-with-benefits situation with rafe cameron. now, you were sitting in the passenger seat of his truck after he just defended you to your ex-boyfriend and asked you out on a date.
was it too soon? probably. could you really see it working? maybe. did you want to go? yes—as crazy as that sounded.
you turn your head towards him and shake your head. "i don't have to think about it."
a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips, but he fights it, just in case you said no. "you don't?"
"let's do it."
"yeah?" a chuckle falls from his lips, his smile widening.
"yeah," you nod, as he pulls the car to a stop in front of your family's house on the cut. you lean in to place a kiss on his cheek, making them turn the lightest shade of crimson, before opening your door to hop out. "come pick me up at noon tomorrow."
—
"fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk!" you slam your closet door close, just as your older brother peeks in to see where all the commotion was coming from.
"the hell's the matter with you?" he eyes you carefully, leaning against the doorway, sipping on a can of soda.
you ignore him and begin pacing around the room, tossing clothes from your dresser onto the bed. "what the fuck am i suppose to wear?" you lay out one casual outfit—a crochet top and dark-washed shorts—and one fancier outfit—a short, white floral sundress with pink flowers.
"since when do you care what you wear?" your brother walks into your room and looks at the clothes laid out on your bed.
"since i'm going on a date," you say, nibbling on your thumb, as your eyes shifted back and forth between the two outfits.
"jj's taking you out?" he asks, looking at you, clearly caught by surprise.
jj was never really the "date" type—not that you minded. while the two of you would spend time together all the time, you'd mostly do it with the rest of the pogues. either that, or you'd hang out in your room or the chateau.
"no," you shake your head. "we broke up."
"so who you goin' out with then?"
you pick up the dress from the bed, and hold it out in front of you, while turning to look into your full-length mirror. "...rafe cameron."
your brother almost chokes on his soda as he snaps his head towards you. "rafe cameron? you're goin' out with a kook?"
"is it really that much of a surprise?" you raise a brow and look at him through the mirror.
"nah," he shakes his head and shrugs. "just didn't think kook was your style."
"well i appreciate your insight, y/b/n, but it's time to go," you turn to shoo him out of the room and push him out your door.
"hey, could you—" before he could even finish his sentence, you slam the door in his face and return to getting dressed.
while you didn't clear up with rafe exactly what this date would entail, you figured it’d be better to play it safe than be sorry—he was a kook, after all—so you took off your robe and slipped into your mini sundress, before sitting at your desk to crimp your hair and scatter little braids around your head and do your makeup.
after doing so, your phone dings with a text from him, as you slip on some flat sandals.
rafe: downstairs, your brother let me in.
giving yourself one more glance at the mirror to fix your necklaces, you run your hands through your hair and spray on some perfume, before scurrying out your bedroom door and down the hall to greet rafe sitting in the living room with your brother sitting across from him.
"so what are you intentions with my little sister?" your brother asks, just in time for you to intervene.
"oh my god, y/b/n," you say, as rafe stands to greet you. "hey."
you walk over to him and he squeezes you to his side. "hey, doll."
"where we headed?" you asked, noticing him in a salmon colored polo shirt—which somewhat matched the color of the flowers on your dress—and light grey shorts.
"a little change of plans, actually," he tells you. "i gotta go to this brunch at the club cause my dad's getting some award. you don't mind, do you?"
"we can totally leave any time you want," he adds, when a look of apprehension crosses your face.
you slowly nod, your eyes meeting his. "okay."
"yeah?" a small smile forms on his lips when you agree.
"yeah, let's go," you nod again, before turning to pull him towards the door.
"don't bring her back too late!" your brother jokingly calls after the two of you, as you walk out the front door.
"you're not dad!" you yell back, closing the door behind you.
—
the minute you enter a banquet hall at the country club, decked out with several round tables and decorations, full of kooks dressed in designer sundresses and polos, it dawns on you just how different your worlds are.
rafe was the kook king. these fancy brunches were a part of his weekly routine, while the fanciest place you'd ever been was the diner your parents took you to on your trip to new york a month ago.
"you ok?" rafe's hand snakes around the small of your back and he leans into you when he notices you glancing around, your fingers fiddling with each other. "hey," his finger comes under your chin to make you face him. "don't fret, a'ight? they'll love you."
they? who the fuck is they?
"top, kelce," rafe calls out to two of his friends, both of whom are dressed just like him, as he leads you to their table, which also sat two other girls—who you recognized to be rafe's sisters. "this is y/n."
"topper," the blond one holds out a hand to you, and the dark skinned one does too. "kelce."
"y/n," you shake both their hands, as rafe pulls out a chair for you to sit down. "it's nice to meet y'all."
"oh my god," the young girl seated next to sarah widens her eyes at you from across the table. "you're that girl rafe's been sneaking in and out of the house at night!"
"wheeze," sarah throws her a look, before smiling at you. "sorry about her, she has no filter. i'm sarah."
"yeah, i know," you nod at her. "kiara's talked about you."
"oh," the smile on her face drops a little. "you're friends with kie?"
"not anymore," you shake your head, and sarah's smile returns. "we were, but… she's showed her true colors." you reach for the glass of water in front of you and take a sip.
"tell me about it," sarah scoffs. "i had to learn that the hard way."
you continue making small talk with sarah, realizing she wasn't half the bitch kiara made her out to be, while rafe's hand rested on your thigh, as he talked to kelce and topper.
"drinks?" you hear a familiar drawl behind you, and find jj standing over you with a platter of mimosas, dressed like a waiter. "y/n?"
a smirk comes across rafe's lips as he turns his head, eyes shifting between the two of you. "hey, man. just one for my girl."
jj's clicks his tongue, as rafe smiles at you and gives your thigh a squeeze, but does his job, and leans down to hold the platter out to you.
"thanks," you avoid eye contact with him as you grab a drink from the platter, and are thankful when sarah calls on him from across the table.
"i'll take one too," she says and jj rounds the table to allow her to grab a drink, his disappointed eyes meeting yours.
a part of you felt bad—it had only been about a month—but then again, he moved on while you two were still together. so was there really a reason for you to feel guilty? you were just doing what he did—but better. at least you waited until the relationship ended.
"i'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick," you whisper to rafe, who gave you a small nod.
"why?" he asked, concern falling over his features. "you okay?"
"yeah," you assure him. "i just gotta pee. i'll be back."
—
by the time you got back from the bathroom, applause was erupting around the room, as rafe, sarah, and wheezie joined their dad on stage with their stepmom.
a smile came across your face as his eyes met yours from across the room and you leaned an elbow on the counter of the bar beside you.
"can't believe you stooped this low," jj comes up beside you, placing the platter down on the bar and downing one of the drinks himself.
"no," you turn your head to look at him and shake your head when rafe becomes occupied taking pictures with his family. "we're not doing this here."
you head out of the room, and he follows. "why? scared your new kook friends are gonna realize you're not one of them? i mean, seriously, y/n— how far are you willing to take this? just to-"
you snap your head towards him. "just to what, jj?"
"to spite me," he says. "i mean, have you looked in the mirror lately?" he motions a hand at your dress. "you're dressed like them, you're eating brunch with them, you're with him—this isn't you!"
"no," you hold a finger up to him. "i am exactly who i've always been. you just don't know how i look when i'm not in love with you."
a scoff leaves his mouth. "so our relationship really meant that little to you, huh?"
was he for real?
you narrow your eyes and shook your head. "no. you don't get to use that against me. you meant the world to me, jj. you were the one who screwed shit up the second you decided to sleep with kie. you are not turning this on me."
"oh my god, would you get over it?" he asked, clearly frustrated. "you slept with rafe cameron, y/n! we're even."
"even?" you spat. "after you betrayed me? broke my trust? my heart? oh, you have no idea just how even it's about to be."
"the hell's going on out here?" rafe joins you and jj outside the banquet hall, immediately coming to your side, a hand on your lower back. "is he bothering you?"
"no," you shake your head. "jj's shift just ended. he was about to go."
rafe shifts his eyes between the two of you, you and jj's eyes focused on each other.
your ex-boyfriend scoffs and shakes his head, but walks away, taking rafe by surprise.
"you wanna tell me what that was all about?" he looks at you, after watching jj leave.
"nothing to tell," you shrug with a smile, tilting your head up at him. "you wanna head back inside?"
"you wanna stay?"
"yeah," you nod, snaking your arm around his back. "i do."
part 5.
i love soft rafe almost as much as i love canon rafe tbh.
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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#rafe cameron#rafe#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe fic#cute rafe#soft rafe#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#outer banks
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୨♡ Ｗｉｎｔｅｒ Ｋｉｎｇ ＨＣＳ ♡୧
I am ashamed of tumblr for not making more fanfic of this funky fruit.
We got some general HCS and then some romantic ones under the cut! (I went a little overboard with the romantic ones, hehe!)
Gender-neutral
୨♡ Ｇｅｎｅｒａｌ ♡୧
-Man's self care routine is off the charts
-I'm serious, he has like- 80 different bubble bath concoctions.
-Smells like mint
-or some kind of cold scent.
-I feel like he loves dressing up fancy, so he has a closet full of sparkly suits
-maybe even some dresses if he's feeling special.
-Doesn't actually need to wear glasses, he just likes how they look.
-While he loves his winter wonder world, I feel like he'd enjoy rainy weather more than snow.
-He got rid of all his madness and sadness, yes, but I think he'd cry at something especially cute. Happy tears, y'know?
"Why are you crying, sir? Are you okay?"
"Oh, it's nothing. *sniff* Just those two rabbits that are cuddling."
-He is really bad at any percussion instrument
-like.. REALLY bad.
-His hands are too delicate for such a garish instrument as the drums!
-He loves playing duets on the piano, but rarely has anyone to play with.
-I mean, he could always concoct up an ice creature to play piano with him, but that's honestly quite dull.
-His favorite movie would probably be an old Christmas movie, like It's a Wonderful Life.
-He gets kidnapped by the Candy Queen so often, that occasionally he brings a book or something snuggly to help him wait for his ice scouts to rescue him.
-He once got so bored while kidnapped that he tried to read to some of the mutilated candy people
-That was the last time he saw his favorite book.
-Safe to say he doesn't bring his favorites anymore.
୨♡ Ｒｏｍａｎｔｉｃ ♡୧
-Will literally spoil his love interest rotten.
-You want that thing you saw earlier?
-Consider it yours
-You'd like for it to snow outside?
-A sprinkle or a blizzard?
-Literally anything, this man will go to the ends of the universe to get you what you'd like.
-Love languages are definitely gift giving and physical touch
-probably acts of service too.
-Loves dancing.
-Loves dancing.
-Whether it be a slow dance or ice-skating, he will take every opportunity to dance with you!
-He adores short people.
-Good, because he's tall as a giant.
-if you're shorter than him, he will no doubt use you as an armrest.
-He always makes remarks on how cute you are.
-Even if you're only two inches shorter than him.
-If you're taller...
-hoo boy.
-Expect him to be all over you.
-figuratively and literally.
-Will want you to carry him everywhere, sit in your lap, rest against you, whatever.
-Just let him touch you.
-He'll talk about how strong you are, how you'd be the perfect chair, etc. etc.
-He does the stupid "How's the weather up there?" jokes.
-Loves your body, no matter what it looks like.
-You're skinny?
-You're easy to carry around and dance with.
-You're chubby or fat?
-Literally will always be holding onto or resting on part of you. He loves squishy people.
-Somewhere in the middle?
-He could not care less. He loves you regardless of what you look like.
-And he makes sure to emphasize his point by complimenting you endlessly.
-He will never leave your side.
-Even if you need space, he doesn't.
-So why wouldn't you?
-Back to our regularly scheduled fluff-
-Candy Queen hates your guts.
-She thinks you're an obstacle, keeping her from the Winter King.
-No doubt tries to kill you.
-Multiple times. a day
-Her plans are always foiled, but if she gets too close to genuinely hurting you, Winter will be so upset.
"Oh, Dearest, please tell me you're okay!"
"You are?"
"Phew. I don't know what I'd do if you were hurt in any way."
-His petnames for you are probably
-Darling,
-Dearest,
-My love,
-There are a lot more, but those are the main ones.
-LOVES kissing you.
-Anytime, any way.
-He finds it adorable when his nose bumps your face.
-Favorite place to kiss would probably be the back of your hand.
-He is a gentleman after all.
-Overall, he just adores you.
-And he sincerely hopes you love him just as much as he does you.
Headcanon requests are open for Winter King! Don't be afraid to send an ask, and be shameless! I know I am! (No smut tho. Some spice is okay, however.)
Have some free WK art for coming this far!
reblog for a beginner writer?
#winter king x reader#gumy writes#x reader#adventure time#fionna and cake#winter king#the winter king#adventure time x reader#headcanons#my headcanons#fandom#he's so babygirl#fionna and cake x reader#winter king fanart#winter king x male reader#winter king x female reader#winter king x gn reader#brainrot
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