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peachesofteal · 2 months

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Simple Math / Part Eleven

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Graphic depiction of domestic violence. This fic contains mature themes. Mention of pregnancy. Nurse!reader, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies. Bun is in pain, goes to a doctor. Dissociation. Lots of despair, fear, anxiety. The 141 reunites. Nightmares. Comfort. Tenderness. Angst. Welcome home.

“Knock knock.”

“Bunny.” Johnny murmurs, lifting an arm, urging you close, a moon to a tide.

“Hi.” You bend, moving into the hug, pressing your face to his neck for a quick second before straightening.

“I miss ye.” You survey him, glancing at the monitor, the brace on his leg and hip, the disconnected fluid line. He’s doing well. You’re so relieved to see it with your own eyes, ribs rattling with a long exhale. Satisfied, you smile, tension bleeding from your spine.

“Simon says you’re terrorizing your night nurse.”

“Am not. She’s jus’ not gentle, or quiet. Wakes me up.”

“That’s her job.” He scoffs, waving you off. You settle in the chair at his side, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips, dotting kisses across your knuckles. His affection is freeing, sweet and easy, a warm breeze on a spring day. It overflows your heart with warmth until you think it might spill over, and you go with it, following his lead, even though your better judgement, the girl in the mirror, wails.

“Ye look good. Better. Swellin’ gone down?” He cradles your chin, turning your face from left to right, inspecting with a crystal-clear sapphire gleam.

“Yeah, my shoulder is still sore but… yeah. I feel better.”

“’m glad. Simon keepin’ ye off yer feet all day then?”

“Oh my god.” You laugh. “He keeps telling me to lay down. Or asking if I want to take a nap.” Johnny chuckles.

“Sounds right. He’s a bit o’ a mother hen, that one. He cares though, we both do.”

“I know.” You squeeze his hand. “And I missed you too.”

“He said ye an’ him had a nice chat the other night?” Your cheeks burn. Oh god. Did he… “I’m a wee bit jealous.” He complains, turning his nose up and away in a mock pout, and you roll your eyes.

You laid in bed all night and thought about these moments. Thought about Simon’s mouth on yours, his hand on your ass, squeezing and stroking. You thought about how he tasted, how he smelled, the way he looked at you, like you were a part of their world, a piece of them.

And you thought about Johnny. Johnny alone here, Johnny trapped in the hospital, healing, unable to leave or even get out of bed. How anxious he must be, being separated from his family, how frustrating it is to spend so long trying to get better.

You wanted to give him something. Wanted to make him feel better, see him smile.

Here goes nothing.

Leaning, standing, you dip into his orbit, lightly bumping your noses together. It takes no time until his good hand is around the back of your neck, crashing your mouth into his, and he breathes you in, holding you steady, tongue and teeth and lips swirling together in a ubiquitous, overwhelming haze. He tastes like summer rain, the feeling in the air before a giant storm, electric and blazing, brilliant glow transferring between the two of you, lightning striking a mountaintop. He nips your bottom lip, heat flooding your stomach, and you pull away slowly, his eyes jeweled and shimmering, brilliantly blue.

“Bunny,” You try to swallow a quiet giggle and fail. “I’ll have to tell ye I’m jealous more often.”

“Don’t take advantage.” You playfully scold.

“Me? Take advantage?” He pretends to be outraged, voice piquing higher, and you laugh again. “How can I take advantage when ‘m the one stuck here in this bed while ye two are at home, playin’ house, takin’ couch naps and gettin’ butt rubs. No one cares about Johnny, no-“

“Shhh.” You press your lips to his, silencing him, remaining in the kiss that’s long and soft and saccharine. He sneaks his tongue back between your teeth, mischievous and wild, every bit the man you’re drawn to, an attraction you can’t fight.

“Well.” Simon clears his throat from the doorway, brows raised, mask snug. “Hope I’m not interrupting.” You don’t know why, but you fly backwards, nearly stumbling, cheeks on fire. You feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, and that feeling, the pit in the bottom of your stomach, is all too reminiscent.

It frightens you.

“Whoa, hey.” Johnny tries to snag a finger around your wrist, but you step out of the way.

“It’s alright.” Simon moves inside fully, clicking the door shut behind him. “You’re not in trouble. Nothing is wrong, I was just kidding. That’s my fault.” You shake your head.

He’s not mad. Johnny is fine. Everything is fine.

You’re overreacting. You’re making a mess of this.

You shouldn’t even be doing this in the first place. What’re you doing? Who are you kidding?

“I’m s-sorry.” You stammer, hands wringing together anxiously.

“Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry about.” Johnny protests, still trying to reach for you.

Get it together. You have to get it together.

You close your eyes.

Deep breath. In and out. You can do it. Just breathe.

It works. You’re steadier, and you meet their watchful gazes as your eyes open.

“You okay?” Simon murmurs, moving very slowly to the other side of the bed where you’re standing, like he’s approaching a spooked, scared, wild animal.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just… had a moment. I’m fine.” Not entirely true, but that’s alright. You feel a little unsteady, a little unnerved, and Johnny frowns.

“Ye should sit.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bunny, please. For me?” He bats his eyelashes, and you want to groan.

But you lower yourself in the chair all the same.

Quiet falls over the room. It’s awkward and stiff, and you curse yourself for ruining the moment.

“Hey.” Simon soothes, reading your mind. “Hey, you’re alright. Everything is fine.” You nod, unsettled. He squeezes your good shoulder and dips past you, leaning to press a gentle kiss to Johnny’s brow, before dotting his nose and pushing their lips together. Their kiss is long, languid touch melting away to expose their connection, trust and love on full display. Delicate and rare, their affection makes your heart flutter, pulchritudinous whispers given to one another as Simon holds Johnny’s hand, stroking a familiar pattern into his skin, something similar to the way he touches you. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Wish they’d let me out of this bloody bed.” Johnny grumbles. You clear your throat.

“They’re waiting on your wrist. Once your wrist can support your weight on crutches, then you’ll be able to start PT and be released.”

“Ach. I know.” He’s frustrated, it’s clear. You know it’s not easy, being here, being separated, stuck in a hospital.

“It won’t be too long.” You try to reassure him, and he nods, still a little forlorn. “Here,” you stand with a burst of confidence, knocking his arm with the back of your hand as a direction, “scooch over.”

His eyes light. Simon laughs.

You fold yourself onto the edge of the bed, turned on your side, curled along where he’s the least banged up, careful of the sensitive graft lurking beneath his hospital gown.

“There. That better?” His good arm wraps around you carefully, settling on your ribs, a thumb tracing the wrinkle of your shirt.

“Aye, much better.” Your knees are bent, and cool air ghosts over your lower back, where your shirt has ridden up and exposed your skin. You shiver.

“Cold?” Simon murmurs, and you nod. He’s close, hovering, pulling a blanket up from the end of the bed to cover both you and Johnny. He tucks it around the two of you carefully and leans forward, pulling his mask down again to brush his lips across Johnny’s brow.

You watch in a daze. They don’t speak, but there’s something happening between them, something being said in their eyes as Simon holds his face briefly, and Johnny nods.

They both look to you, your bottom lip caught between teeth.

“Want one too?” Simon hums, cupping the back of your head. “Here.” He kisses you, lingering in it, heat of his naked mouth still a shock to your system.

Johnny is beaming, and cuddles you as close as possible, cheek resting atop your forehead.

They make you dizzy. All of it feels like some kind of dream, a world impossible, a fantasy suddenly turned real life. You’re on the verge of spinning out of control inside it, losing yourself.

It doesn’t help that everything you’ve done over these last few years, this identity, this life, the work that went into hiding and planning and saving and scraping, trying to stay unseen and unnoticed-

Was all for nothing.

“Bunny?” Johnny whispers, bringing you back to them. Simon is settled in the recliner, the same one from the ICU room, but his arm is stretched past your head, fingers playing idly in Johnny’s very long mohawk.

“Sorry. I’m here.”

“Where did ye go?” He tightens his hold, and you snuggle in closer, hiding away from everything bearing down on you, the pain and the panic and the doubt. You hide your face from it, refuse to acknowledge it, desperately trying to stay in this moment, hoping to just be… be here with them. In the sun.

“Nowhere.”

A day passes. Then another, and another, and another. Your face nearly looks normal, puffiness and swelling practically gone, and your neck aches less and less with each passing day.

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a problem.

It never stops hurting. You struggle to get your arm through your shirts, can barely lift it, can't pick anything up, and it’s so sore, tender, and stiff, like it’s been dislocated or worse, broken. You’re worried, worried about going back to work without a full range of motion, worried about being in pain.

Worried about being even more permanently damaged than you already are.

Just another tally mark. Just another thing you must live with now, a permanent remnant of him, a forever reminder of just how foolish you really are.

You’re weak. You’re stupid. You’re damaged.

The pain breaks you down. It prevents you from sleeping, keeps you twisting and turning through a roil of dark dreams. It depresses you, sinks its teeth into your flesh and gnaws on the pieces touched by the sun, the parts of your heart still beating, somehow.

It reminds you of everything you’re desperate to forget.

It all comes crashing down one morning. The despair. The helpless feeling brewing in your stomach. The loneliness. It keeps you there, in bed, in agony, past breakfast.

It keeps you there, until you hear the creak of the stairs, a firm knock.

“I’m coming in.” Simon advises, trying the door, cracking it enough to stick his head through.

You’re crumpled in the middle of the mattress, pillows strewn about from trying to find a comfortable position, tears already dried. Your shoulder hurts so bad, and you don’t know why, don’t know why it’s not getting better, not healing.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” He sits at your side, hand resting on your hip, inspecting the worry lines, the frown tugging at your lips. “What’s going on?” Guilt swamps you.

“It’s nothing, my shoulder just kept me up, so I’m a little tired. That’s all.” You paste on your work smile, forced and believable, but he only shakes his head.

“Don’t do that.” He thumbs your brow. “I think you should see a doctor.”

“N-no.” You can’t. He doesn’t understand. They’ll want to take x-rays. X-rays lead to questions.

He never takes you at face value. Always pushing. Always digging, looking you over. “Why not?”

“It’s… it’s not necessary. I’m fine, it’s probably just a deep bruise.”

“You’d be experiencing less pain if that was the case.” You raise an eyebrow. He shrugs. “I know a little bit. We all have basic medic training, and I’ve been reading up, for when Johnny gets home.” He pats your hip. “Let’s make you an appointment.” You shake your head.

“No!” It’s too sharp, too insistent, and he freezes. You wince. “I’m sorry. It’s just-“

“You can’t go to a doctor.” He finishes, like he knows. “Tell me why, sweetheart.” You take a shaky breath.

You can’t. You shouldn’t.

Sunlight taps against the iron that’s encrusted around your heart. It knocks, wanting to be let in. It searches for weakness, places of opportunity, slivers of space where it can find its way.

Your mouth starts moving before you give it permission, like it knows this is where you’re headed, no matter how hard you fight, no matter how deeply the survivor’s logic is ingrained in your brain.

“It… it’s not safe.”

“It creates a trail.” He surmises, and you nod. For a wild moment, you wonder if he’s a plant. If they’re a trap, designed to get you to lower your guard, fabricated to encourage you to trust, to love, just so the jaws of Philip’s cruelty can close around you at the most opportune moment.

They wouldn’t. They’re not. You’re being ridiculous. You’re paranoid.

“We’ll make it under my name. Our primary is service member focused, and very discreet. You’ll be safe.” He makes it hard to argue, even though you want to. You should.

“I- I don’t know.”

“I can’t stand to see you in pain like this.” He rebukes, and then smiles softly, eyes lighting up. “Besides, I’m going to need your help. Johnny’s coming home on Friday.”

“He is?” You push upward. “Really?”

“Really.” He’s beaming, radiant sunshine spilling from his lips, and it makes you emotional, seeing him so happy, so weightless. “He passed a strength test on his wrist this morning. He needs a few days of PT in hospital, and then he can do it outpatient. His care team has signed off, and he’s ready.”

“Oh my god, that’s great!”

“It is. But I want both of you on the mend, not just one. Please.” It doesn’t take much more for you to concede, unable to find an excuse or a good enough reason, one he’s not able to combat.

“Alright, I guess.”

“Simon. Good to see you.” The doctor extends his hand and Simon shakes it readily, keeping his body positioned between you and the physician, one hand still on your knee.

He’s had a hand on you for the last half hour. You’ve been rattling on the exam table, shifting and fretful, disquieted energy spilling forth since he coaxed you into the car this morning.

“Dr. Fitch.”

“This is my patient?” He motions to you, and Simon stands to the side, concentrating, eyes focused above the mask. You give your name, and the provider repeats it with a warm smile.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Fitch.” You raise your good arm to shake his hand, and he pulls the rolling stool underneath him, taking a seat opposite Simon at your knee.

A warm palm flexes at your lower back. It’s soothing, comforting.

I’m here, it says. You’re safe.

“Simon says you’ve been having some shoulder pain?”

“Yeah, I had… I had an injury. Thought there was some soft tissue damage, maybe some minor bruising, but the pain is too persistent.”

“Mind if I take a look?” He points to the side you’re clearly favoring.

“Sure.” It’s not comfortable, to have another man’s hands on you outside of your job. There’s no trust there, no familiarity like there is with Simon and Johnny, and your body knows it, practically vibrating as he walks his fingers up your scapula. Simon stays close, still with a hand at your back, watching intently.

Dr Fitch holds your elbow, and slowly lifts your arm until you’re telling him to stop, pins and needles radiating through your shoulder and up your neck.

“I think we need an x-ray so we can really see what’s going on.” Your fingers curl, nails digging into your palm.

Fuck.

“I… I think I just need a sling, or an immobilizer for a few weeks. Give it some time to heal.” You try to protest, but he shakes his head.

“I can’t be sure of any of that, without an x-ray.” Oh god. You think you might throw up.

He’s right, though. You know he’s right. You know no good provider in their right mind would sign off on a treatment plan without knowing the extent of an injury. He’s not going to let you dictate what you need.

“Bun.” Simon murmurs, and you blow out a rough breath.

“Okay, fine.”

Dr. Fitch is grim when he reappears almost an hour later, throwing the films up for both you and Simon to see.

You spot what’s soured him immediately, and there’s a sharp intake of breath behind you, the tell-tale sign of Simon noticing it too.

“This side of your body has seen a lot of trauma.” The doctor says gently. He’s not unkind, but still clinical. The kind of provider you’d like you work with, you think. “These old injuries, your clavicle, acromion, even this break in your ulna, make your scapula a very delicate part of your body. I think an MRI would show a fair amount of cartilage damage in these areas.” He motions around your joint, and you close your eyes.

You can’t do this.

If Dr. Fitch sees your unease or panic, he pushes past it. “You have a rotator cuff tear. The good news is, it’s not surgical. I recommend physical therapy for injuries like these, along with activity modification and lots of rest. I want to do a corticosteroid injection for your pain as well. Today, if you’d like. You’ll need to rest your arm for twenty-four hours afterwards, make sure you’re not lifting anything or moving it…” He continues, but you lose track, lose focus, staring at the vinyl tile, weird grey and pink and green patterns all worked together to make some of the ugliest floor you’ve ever seen.

You zone out. Lose yourself. The films mock you, their ugly, horrific images hanging you out to dry, showcasing the truth, the reminders you’ll never be able to escape.

The pieces of you, changed permanently.

It’s hard to look at. Hard to think of.

You’d rather be considering survival. Counting your cash and researching new places to live. New communities to disappear inside, a new life to assume.

It’s easier to run.

You can’t look at Simon. Can't bear the shame. Can't believe he's seeing this, your nightmares on display.

You keep your eyes fixed on the wall.

The girl in the mirror is falling apart. She despises being confronted with your failings, your weakness, the results of your stupidity.

It’s far less common now, these mistakes. These slip ups.

But before… before… they indulged Philip in a beautiful game of cat and mouse. You made it fun, made it exciting. A wolf with his prey. Playing with his food before he eats. Before he strings it up and breaks its collarbone because he likes to hear it scream.

Simon is talking to the provider, asking questions, receiving answers. You can barely hear him. You’re underwater.

The only thing that tethers you to the earth is the hand on your back, the warm, gentle, broad, grounding pressure.

There’s more conversation, and then Dr. Fitch is vacating the room.

Is it time to go?

You try to stand on autopilot, but Simon holds you steady.

“We’re going to do the steroid, for your pain.” He drifts into your line of sight, pulling the mask down. “Bunny, look at me.”

When you can’t, he follows your gaze.

The films come off the wall within the next second, ripped down by the long reach of his arm.

Gone.

“I have to go.” You whisper.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re going to get this injection, and then I’m going to take you home and put you to bed.”

He doesn’t understand your meaning.

Or maybe he does.

Home. The word rings in your ears like a punch. It’s like you’ve been hit with it, burned with it.

Home.

He’s not forceful, but you still feel the pressure, the insistence. You expect to rail against him. To cower.

Instead, you slip inside it. Allow him to tell you what to do, to make the decision. You fall easily into him, and he holds your hand through it all, while the injection site is swabbed, when the needle goes in. He holds your hand out to the car, holds your hand as he buckles you in. He holds your hand as he tucks you into a bed larger and softer than the one you've been sleeping in. It smells like him and Johnny, soft sheets and pillows piled around you like a wall, false sense of security building every time you twitch, testing where is he is, if he’s left yet.

The last thing you feel before you drift off to sleep is your hand, still in his.

You don't know how long you sleep. You sail in the darkness, navigating turbulent seas, waking every now and then, sometimes alone... sometimes not.

The baby monitor blinks pale green, little circle fuzzy on the edge of your vision, appearing and disappearing throughout the day.

Sometimes the bed is warm. Sometimes it's not.

When it is, you seek him out on instinct, trying to crawl inside his ribs, frantic with your effort to hide, to run. He holds you through it, rocks you gently, tells you you're safe, says you don't have to be afraid anymore, he's here now. He'll take care of you.

There's a rope around your ankle, tied too tight, tethered to the ocean floor. It drags you down, rips you away from him, fills your lungs and silences you.

You didn't make it.

All you can see behind closed lids is those films. All you can feel is the phantom ache in your limbs, the remnants of a shadow, still living and breathing inside of you.

The girl in the mirror is silent. Nothing to say for once in her life, she weeps like her chest is being carved open, sobs and screams pouring out in a flood.

I know you'll be here when I get back, won't you?

The house is vibrant today.

Lou has been here, stocking the fridge, precooking some meals, and her husband is helping Simon rearrange the living room, moving pieces of the couch to be more accessible, laughing back and forth quietly. Occasionally, he stops into the kitchen where you’re seated next to Pen in her highchair, checking in, but never encroaching.

He doesn’t get too close, right now. You’re still underwater somewhere, lost in a current. You’re here, but not really, silently drifting like a ghost, watching and waiting for something or someone to shake you out of it.

Simon hasn’t yet, but he’s watching. Always.

He’s intentionally careful, loud. Announcing himself everywhere he goes in the house, telling you everything he’s doing.

You didn’t understand why at first. Didn’t realize you hadn’t spoken in eight hours, and then ten, then twelve.

Trapped in a tomb of yourself, locked away with the girl in the mirror.

Guilt burns like a wildfire.

This should be a happy time. A wonderful time.

But all you’re doing is making a mess of their life.

Lou, thankfully, doesn’t push you either. She’s content to let you sit there, next to Pen. She keeps an eye out, glancing over at you occasionally, but your placating smiles seem to satisfy her.

Simon steps in front of the counter, ducking his head down to catch your eyes. “I’m going to pick Johnny up.” Somewhere, in the pits of hell, excitement blooms. Happiness tries to sprout. “Do you want to come?” Definitely not. They’ll certainly clap him out, and there’s no way you can be there for that.

“No, I’m… okay.”

“Okay. Penny is coming with me, but John and Lou are staying here. Kyle is coming by. If Johnny’s feeling up to it, I’m hoping to do dinner all together.” Acid is tossed around, tempestuous in your stomach. Lou smiles around his side.

“Want to watch something while we wait?”

“Sure.” She disappears down the hall, saying something to John, and Simon slowly pulls Pen from her chair, kissing her cheek and nose before cradling her to his chest. She’s not a small baby, but in his hold, she’s tiny, soft and delicate, content in her dad’s arms, still a little sleepy from her afternoon nap.

“We’ll be back soon.” He whispers, turning to go.

Your hand whips forward instinctively, out of control.

It latches onto his.

“Simon. I’m… I’m sorry.” You’re sorry you’re ruining everything. You’re sorry you’re fucked up beyond belief, you’re sorry he had to see all that in the doctor’s office, you’re sorry, you’re sorry, you’re sorry.

He squeezes. “Shhh, hey. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” He shifts, still holding Penny, but stooping down to crouch at your knees, his own popping with effort. “It’s okay, if you have to go somewhere else for a little while up there, as long as you're not lost in it.” He motions to your head. “Nothing has changed. We’re still right here, everything is alright. Huh, Penny girl?” He bounces her, and she shrieks out a giggle, reaching for his face. He kisses her hands like he’s trying to eat them, rumble in his voice making her squeal, and he catches your faint smile. “There she is.” He kisses your forehead. “We’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

You hear Johnny before you see him.

There’s a scrape of crutches, his voice animated, talking to his baby, Penny giggling wildly outside on the walk. Lou and John exchange a comfortable smile, and she manages to get the door open before Simon can get his key in the lock.

“Welcome home!” She exclaims, and Penny squeaks, clapping excitedly. She’s wriggly, wanting to get down immediately upon crossing the threshold, but Simon holds her firm, turned around so Lou can snap their picture.

“Ach, Price, can ye do somethin’-“ Johnny laments, but the captain only laughs and looks on.

“Hey! Come on, you’ll want this, later. I promise. Look over here.” They’re picture perfect, Penny cradled between them, Johnny’s hair moved out of his face, his posture a little slouched because of his hip and leg. His head rests on Simon’s shoulder, an arm stretched across his middle, right under Penny, who glows from her perch, the center of attention.

An ache unfurls in the middle of your chest, a sore spot, growing, spreading through your body.

They’re so lovely, it hurts. This moment is beautiful, a homecoming, a story of survival and perseverance. Johnny’s strength and determination. Doing something you know a lot of people initially doubted.

The dark spot of pain passes, fleeting.

Johnny’s eyes find yours. “Ye goin’ make me hobble all the way over there?” He teases, and you shake your head.

The two of you can only give half hugs, but you make it work, holding onto him, fingers fisted in the back of his shirt.

“Welcome home.” You whisper in his ear, and he pulls away, notching his forehead against yours. His eyes glitter, heavy, trembling breath filtering through his nose, and he kisses you slowly, so painfully slowly it’s like you’re the only one in the entire house, in the whole world.

“You too, bunny.”

Dinner is lively. Kyle arrives shortly before it’s time to sit down, greetings and warm wishes passed around as everyone gets settled, Penny positioned in highchair between the guys with mashed potatoes and peas already scooped onto her tray. Johnny’s on your left, with Lou on your right, and Simon sits at the head of the table, across from who you realize now, is his old, or kind of still, boss.

He looks perfect there, half turned towards Pen and Johnny, radiantly smiling at his partner and daughter, trying again and again to catch your eye. Johnny's knee stays steady against yours, fingertips occasionally brushing your thigh, and the two of them try to draw you in, pull you towards them, over and over.

Conversation flows easily. They’re all talking, laughing, swapping stories, poking at one another. Kyle tells you about a time he fell out of a helicopter, and they all tease Johnny about nearly dying this time, or a different time, you can’t be too sure.

“Ye jus’ wish ye had the natural ability I do.” He sniffs, and Kyle chortles, struggling to swallow his food.

“I’d probably be dead, mate.”

“’Cause ye cannae handle it!” He retorts, and Simon laughs, causing Penny to giggle too, and then the entire table erupts in it, attention redirected, cooing at the adorable girl with mashed potatoes smeared on her face. Johnny and Simon fuss over her, a perfect family in unison.

There’s a whining, buzzing noise in the back of your head. It’s an off-key tenor, annoying and coarse, like the snag of rough skin texture against a soft sweater.

What are you doing here?

The world, this room, these people, spin and spiral around you. Talking, laughing, loving. Making connections with each other, feeling the warmth of love and friendship, of happiness.

The buzzing gets louder.

You’re vaguely in it now, still seated but not here, not anywhere. You’re drifting, falling away, slipping behind walls and layers, hiding.

The girl in the mirror approves.

What makes you think you have any right to be here? What makes you think you could ever possibly belong here? With them? With their friends? Their family?

You’re an intruder.

You’re risking their safety. You’re making a mistake.

Lou boasts a sharp laugh, and you nearly flinch.

You don’t belong here. You’re supposed to be alone. It was supposed to be okay, to be alone.

You’re selfish.

Simon reaches for Johnny’s hand, stretching across Penny’s spot, eyes heavy with love. There’s so much in his expression alone, dedication, devotion, borderline obsession bleeding through, and he holds Johnny like he’s holding his lifeline.

You’ll never be loved like that, known like that, cherished and protected… like that.

And why should you be?

You’re standing before you announce it, trying to hold yourself together. Both guys look to you, Simon’s expression changing from amusement and love to worry and concern, while Johnny mirrors it, and tries to grab your hand.

“Ye alright?”

“Bun?”

“I’m fine, just… uh. My stomach.” You lie, motioning away from the table, like it makes any sense. You excuse yourself quickly, apologizing, and practically run up the stairs.

The guest bathroom door locks, and you slide down against the tub, slumping over to rest your cheek on cold tile. “Fuck.” You whisper, rubbing at your cheeks. What is wrong with you?

You lay there long enough that your shoulder starts to hurt. Everything aches, your heart too, and wipe your cheeks over and over, trying to regain control of a sinking ship.

God, you really, really hope they aren’t mad you bailed.

The bed is your only option, your only salvation, and you sink into without fuss, burying yourself beneath a pile of blankets, hiding yourself away from the world.

At least when you sleep, you can’t think.

At least when you sleep, you can’t feel.

“Philip, please.”

“You made a fucking fool of me tonight.” He grips your upper arm so tight it feels like he’s cutting into your flesh, branding you, burning you down to the bone.

“No, I- I wasn’t trying to, I swear.”

“I think you were, spitfire. I think you wanted to see me sweat, didn’t you? Wanted to play a little game, huh?”

“No!” you’re crying, chest heaving with giant sobs, and his fist tightens in your hair, dragging you down to the ground. “No, Philip, stop. Stop!”

“Shut up.” You’re crawling on your knees, trying to keep pace, trying to stay in stride with him as he tugs, practically pulling you down the hallway to the bedroom.

Once he gets there, he jerks you upwards.

The hardwood floor is the next thing you see as your face crashes into it.

“S-stop.” You’re barely audible, buried in sobs. He mocks you.

“Stoooop, babe. Stop please.” Your arms cover your head, trying to protect your delicate bones there, your skull, your nose, your cheeks.

His foot rears back.

The world goes cold.

“NO!” you jerk your knees up to your chest, rolling away. “No! I’m pregnant!”

You think he’ll be happy. You think he’ll be pleased.

Instead, it’s raw, concentrated fury you see lining his face, lightning and thunder gathering in his eyes.

“You’re what?”

You come to trembling, coated in a cold sweat.

It’s okay. He’s not here. He’s not. You’re safe.

You clasp a hand over your mouth to ward off the volume of the sob, nausea rising until you’re almost gagging.

It’s okay.

You can do this. Get it together.

Time ticks away, but the agony of your memory, your nightmare, doesn’t fade. It settles in your bones like a sickness, infecting your mind and heart, keeping you from closing your eyes.

You can’t go back there. Not in real life. Not in your dreams. Not ever.

You would die before that happened.

Johnny and Simon sleep down the hall. You wonder if they’re wrapped up together, if Johnny is comfortable, if their room is cozy and homey, bed heavenly and full of love.

You could…

No.

The clock on your phone reads three in the morning. You feel like you haven’t slept at all, but every time you try to close your eyes, dread spreads, tenebrous and sticky, clinging to every synapse in your logical brain.

You eye the door.

You could…

Should you? Would they be mad? Would they welcome you? Would they even answer?

You don’t know how you convince yourself to do it, to drag your weak will down the hall and knock on their door, but you do. You’re a child the whole way, padding up to a parent’s room in the middle of the night, looking for salvation and sanctuary, desperate for comfort.

It takes almost no time after your timid little rap for the door to swing wide, Simon standing behind it, little lamp flicked on where Johnny is half sitting up, mostly still asleep, rubbing his eyes.

“Hi.” You whisper, distracted by Simon’s naked chest. He’s wearing sweatpants, but they’re slung low on his hips, soft tummy with wispy light brown hair peeking out above the drawstring. You think you’re staring, and you force a blink, trying to appear normal.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, I just… I had a nightmare and…I… I can’t…” the rest doesn’t come out, laying heavy on your tongue, trying to organize itself so it doesn’t seem so intrusive, or weak.

He doesn’t make you feel bad. Or guilty. He doesn’t even ask, he just steps aside, motioning to bed, clicking the door shut behind him.

“Take the middle.” He whispers, and you crawl across the expanse, timidly smiling at Johnny, who’s still yawning. He’s got his bad leg and hip set up on a bunch of pillows, and the spot next to him is still warm.

“Hey pretty girl.”

“Hi.” He pats the empty space, shoving the blankets down to the best of his ability to let you get underneath them.

“Bad dream?” He drawls, slow and sleepy.

“Yeah.”

“C’mere.” He tries to tug you closer, but Simon scolds him softly.

“Johnny, easy. Your graft.” He turns, sliding, encouraging you to settle on your side, with him at your back. “There we go. That’s better, hm?” It is better. So much better. Warm and safe. Blocked in on either side by them, your hand resting on Johnny’s sternum, grounding yourself with the rise and fall of his breathing, Simon nestling you into his chest, heavy arm slung across your ribs to hold Johnny’s hand.

It's so nice, tucked between them like you belong there, things start to spiral a little bit, doubt and worry fueling a cycle of second guessing. You shift restlessly, and Simon rubs your hip, soothing whatever he senses amiss back to neutral, lips humming just above your ear. “Close your eyes, little bunny. We’re here. You’re safe.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghoap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #simon riley #john mactavish #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader

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lydiimae · 2 months

Text

The stars, the moon

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI!

Warnings: Talk of drinking, sexist old ideas about women, talk of sex, Anthony being a cutie shhh, oral sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, body worship (f receiving), heavy praise, lovemaking more than hardcore sex oopsies

A.N: YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET TO ME ISTG T-T the love on my first two fics is so heartwarming. i'm so very glad you liked them both so much ^-^ Benny and Bridgerton as a whole are both so very important to me so i'm glad i did them both well. anyways my loves, this is an Anthony fic that i hope i can do as well as i did Ben. i was listening to Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine and it gave me this idea! soooo here is an incredibly fluffy, (and smutty hehe) love filled Ant fic hehe<3 enjoy and thank you again <3 p.s that scene the gif is from sends my mind into a spiral CONSTANTLY my roman empire fr p.p.s I FINALLY GOT DIVIDERS, so now my fics will look a little cleaner i hope hehe >_<

Growing up next to the Bridgertons had been fun and eventful, to say the very least. You were there through every trial and tribulation their family had gone through, and them with yours.

You and your three sisters had always gotten along with the seven siblings. Being the youngest and most... rambunctious of them you had gotten along with Eloise and Benedict the most. They had views of marriage and duty that were similar to yours, and when you were younger you and Benedict would spend hours making doodles on the walls of the gardens at your estate.

Your sisters, who were much more of the traditional women you would often find in the ton, tended to be more akin to the eldest Bridgerton brother and sister. Daphne and Anthony, however kind and loving they both were, were always too strict or, in Daphne's case, too proper for your liking.

You had always thought of Anthony as the moon. He thrived in darkness and was often gone before you even noticed he was there. You never knew why he left balls early, or why you spotted him with that opera singer in the deepest corners of gardens or tucked away in libraries.

Until you grew up, that is. The first time you snuck out of the confines of your room was when you were ten and eight, right after the first ball of your first social season. Benedict had insisted on you sneaking out the window of your bedroom so you could tag along with him to a party a fellow artist was throwing, and you, out of pure curiosity, obliged.

You got there and had your first everything while Benedict was painting, or so he claimed, in another room. You kissed the lord, whose name you cannot remember to this day, and then you went beyond that. Sex. It was wonderful, you decided, and from then on you had much more of it.

Anthony was perceptive, he noticed the change in your behavior and one night even decided to ask Benedict about it. Benedict being Benedict told him everything in his usual carefree manner, not thinking twice about it. Anthony reacted quite strangely however, he just... turned on his heel and walked into his study, locking himself in for hours.

He avoided you at all costs from then on. It was strange, but then again, he was the moon. The moon cannot be out forever.

Anthony had always thought of you as the stars, a happy, mischievous young woman who thrived in the dark. You provided a light to every room you walked into that was too great for anyone to look away from. You were intricate, difficult to read and figure out, and yet you were also so intriguing that every man wanted to do just that.

You were also incredibly mischievous, he knew that from the moment you were born. Being eight years older, and a close family friend, Anthony was one of the first who got to meet you. You had always had that sparkle in your eye, like you were in on this grand plan that no one else was.

When you got older, it only got worse. You were constantly getting in trouble, whether that be drawing on your garden's brick walls with his brother or reading books about math or, fittingly, astronomy. Your father always described you as boyish, to which he would have to agree. You got into fencing when you were ten and two and immediately had a knack for it. When you were six and ten, you snuck off with Benedict and got taught how to hunt.

He was never attracted to your sisters as they were too... boring for his taste. They had interests in things like the latest fashion trends, or hairstyles, and he was sure that none of them had ever glanced at a book. It was quite comforting to know, that because of your foolish ways and thinking, he would never be attracted to you either. Or so he thought.

You were wearing a light blue dress when you entered your first ball, your arm tucked snugly with your father's. Your hair was pinned up more elegantly than he had ever seen it, a few of the still unruly, wavy strands fluttering in the breeze that your white fan made. Stunningly gorgeous in every way, and so ladylike. It was strange.

He had almost assured himself that he would never feel this way towards any woman like you, after all, his list of requirements for the next Viscountess was long and specific, to say the least. Yet there you were, walking towards his family, and he was very much sure he was attracted to you.

So when he noticed the jewelry you started using to hide the dark marks on your neck and the silly excuses you would use to leave balls early, it was worrying. He asked Benedict and his worst fears were made a reality, your innocence was gone. You were loose, in his mind. He could not, no would not, be attracted to a woman without her maidenhead. He refused.

The only way he could avoid that attraction was to avoid you at all costs, which is exactly what he did. He excused himself from every room you walked into, and every conversation. On the rare occasion that you somehow managed to worm yourself into a conversation with him, however, he gave short answers and cold glares.

His heart ached when he noticed your light dim after he left, but then again you were the stars. All stars have to burn out someday.

You found his insistence on completely avoiding you to be quite tiresome, after all, you considered him to be like a brother. An annoying, headstrong, arrogant, prick of a brother but a brother nonetheless.

You look over your shoulder to where he is talking to a young debutante, wishing that he would at least glance over. You would never admit it to yourself, but after his company waned you missed it quite a lot. You could talk to Benedict or Eloise, sure, but there was something about annoying Anthony that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.

"Miss L/N, are you listening?" The lord, who you were supposed to be listening to, asks. You quickly turn back to him and part your lips to make an excuse, but quickly think better of it. "No, my lord. I apologize, my mind seems to be running from me tonight." You mutter with a soft smile. He nods in turn before continuing to speak about his latest hunting trip, in which you have absolutely no interest.

You excuse yourself when he is done rambling and make your way toward the Viscount, wanting to finally know the real reason why he has made it his life's mission to avoid you. You wish, so desperately, to see the moon again.

He sees you coming and his heart tightens, you look as beautiful as always. You are wearing dark blue, a gorgeous dress he thinks, and your hair is done up just how he likes it. You have on gold jewelry, which sparkles in the low candlelight with every step you take.

He should talk to you, he really should, and yet he cannot bring himself to. You are not the kind of woman he wishes to make the next Viscountess, not even close to checking off any of the boxes he has on his long list for what a woman should be.

So, instead, he settles for leading the young woman he is speaking with to the dance floor. He passes you without a word but falters momentarily when he catches a whiff of your perfume. Your scent, even.

You had always smelled, however strange it might sound, so comforting. Your family's colors were a light purple, the crest having two bunches of lavender flowers on it. You smelled the part, always having some semblance of lavender to you that wafted through the room whenever you entered. It wasn't strong, no, but it was just enough to get his heart racing. It wasn't just lavender that made it so intoxicating, there was something else there. Something that he could only describe as just... you. He smiles to himself at the many fond memories that come with it.

He catches the young woman looking at him in confusion and quickly puts on a straight face, continuing to walk her to the dance floor, but not before noticing the look of despondency on your face. His heart aches, but it must be done. He could not let himself fall for you, no matter how much he longed to see the brightness of the stars again.

Your heart breaks when he walks past you with nothing but a faint semblance of a smile, and for whatever reason, you feel yourself tear up. You wonder if you had done something wrong, or said something in a passing conversation that had rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps even entertained a man he had trouble with. Whatever it was, you did not like the unfamiliar feeling his avoidance brought.

Something that you had always hidden from everyone, including yourself, was your feelings. You felt no need to be a woman who expressed love openly, nor a woman who got teary at the slightest inconvenience. It is why you liked the parties you went to, sex and alcohol were wonderful to drown out feelings that you would rather not feel. Something else you had always hidden or shoved down, was your feelings for Anthony.

He was gorgeous, that much was obvious, what with his grey eyes and his thick brown hair. The things that you didn't like, such as his ignorant views of women, or his want to always be the best, were often drowned out by the fact that the man was extremely loving and protective of those he cared about. Not only that, but he was like you in that he was truly sensitive when he did not try and shove it down. He made you want to sing his praises from every balcony in London, to profess your love in front of all of the ton so everyone could see that he was yours.

You realize you have been standing in the same spot for what has to be at least five minutes now, and that a tear that had escaped in your reminiscing has now made it down your cheek. You quickly walk out to a balcony and lean on the railing, and for once, you allow yourself to cry.

He finds you after his dance with the incredibly boring debutante he decided to occupy himself with. He didn't want to find you, but his feet automatically found themselves to you. As if something deep inside him was naturally drawn to you and your stupid free-spirited nature.

He crowds around your back. "Is everything alright?" He whispers and is completely taken aback when he sees your face. You look up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. It was surprising to say the very least as he cannot remember the last time he saw you cry. "My God, Y/N, what happened?" He asks, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder.

"Why do you hate me?" You whisper back, and he is even more surprised than before. Hate? God he could never hate you, sure he avoided you, but he could never truly hate anything about you. No matter how much he tried.

He was just standing there like he had not been avoiding you for the past two months. Like he had not ignored your every attempt to speak with him, like he had not completely shattered your soul. It made you so angry that you could not stop the foolish words slipping past your lips.

"It is as if I have committed a cardinal sin, as if I am some heathen you cannot stand to be around and not a woman you grew up with." You say, taking a deep breath as heartbreak shifts to anger. "It is not fair. I have wracked every corner of my memory trying to figure out what I have done wrong and still, I turn up with nothing. I..." You falter and turn to look up at the stars. "You are so distant. I find myself aching without you, Anthony. Like a piece of my soul has broken off with your disappearance and is with you for eternity." You whisper, closing your eyes briefly before turning back to him.

"I ask you again, why do you hate me? What have I done?" You plead, searching his eyes for any semblance of his old self. His eyes widen in response and he takes one of your hands. "I do not hate you. God Y/N, how could I ever hate you?" He breathes and your heart flutters at the look in his eyes. As if you are the only woman on earth. He has returned back to you. The moon has risen again.

"I... I have tried to hate you, yes, but every time you are near something in me longs to touch you in ways that would make any lady blush. I hate that you make me feel this way, so foolishly in love that I can barely form a coherent thought, that the Viscount I am becomes but a memory, but I could never hate you." He confesses, bringing his hands to your waist.

Your eyes water as he continues. "You are a loose woman, or so I so foolishly tried to make myself believe. I ignorantly put that label upon you so I could have a reason to not profess from every rooftop in London how much I adore you and I can never forgive myself for it." He whispers, wiping the tears that have somehow escaped your eyes without your knowledge. "I will never be able to profess how sorry I am, but I can hope that in time you can forgive me for how foolish I have been." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"How long?" Is all you can manage to croak out in return to his beautiful confession, resting your hands atop his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. "Since I was a young man, darling. Far too long I have kept it from you." He whispers back as your heart flutters at the title he has given you. "I have loved you since I was a girl." You whisper back. "So I suppose we are both fools." You grin.

He chuckles at that, his hands rubbing small patterns into the small of your back. "Always the witty one, hm? You are truly as bright and as mischievous as the stars, my love." Your heart hammers in the stars, at the way he calls you his love but even more than that, he thinks you to be the stars. "You and I have similar minds, Ant. I always thought you were like the moon, so serious and so attuned to darkness. Yet, so beautiful." You confess, opening your eyes to look into his own. Your cheeks flush at the sight that lies before you.

He is grinning, as if you had just given him the world. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, to which you eagerly return as your eyes close and one of your gloved hands cups his cheeks. He pulls away after a moment. "The moon is nothing without the stars." He whispers, and you smile softly. "I shall ask your father for your hand come tomorrow if you let me." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your brow.

Your heart flutters and you cup his cheeks. "I would love nothing more than to marry you, Anthony Bridgerton." You whisper and he grins, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss is more intense than the first, more confident as he knows that you are now officially his. You wish for nothing more than to melt into him, become his both body and mind for the rest of your days. The thought sends shivers down your spine, making your core heat up at the thought of finally sharing your most intimate self with the man who has plagued your thoughts for years.

As if reading your mind he pulls back, but only just. "Might I invite you back to my bedroom, my star?" He whispers, dipping his head down to press a kiss to your neck. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling and nod eagerly. "Please do." You whisper back and he grins, straightening back up and grabbing your hand before pulling you out to where the carriages are. Not before muttering something to Benedict, who smirks playfully and winks at the two of you in return.

One carriage ride full of open-mouthed kisses and love marks later and you are getting lifted out of the carriage and carried into the Bridgerton estate. You had so many fond memories here, you are elated that you would have the privilege of raising a family in the big estate. The thought of a family with Anthony makes your chest feel tight with emotion and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to calm yourself.

He notices the change of emotion as he carries you through the front door, ignoring the many questioning glances the both of you receive from the servants who still linger in the hallways, and kisses the top of your head. "What is it, darling?" He murmurs in your ear as he walks up the stairs, toward his bedroom.

"I am only being sensitive as I envision our future that I have for so long ached for." You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his neck to assure him that nothing is truly wrong. He groans a bit and smiles down at you as he ducks into his bedroom and places you on the bed. "It shall be a grand one. One filled with happiness and light, I assure you." He hums as he locks the door before climbing over you and peppering your face with kisses, which makes you giggle softly.

He moves his hands to your hair, taking out all of the intricately placed pins so he can see it in the state he loves the most, untamed and unruly, just like you. He runs his hands through your hair once he has it down, pressing kisses down your neck and to your collarbone which he bites. You whine softly at the feeling, but more so at the fact that you know he is going to leave marks. The thought of parading around a ball with his lovebites on your skin makes your cunt dampen and your thighs rub together in an attempt to relieve the ache that settles in your core.

He feels the movements of your body below him and groans as your knee brushes against his clothed cock accidentally, making him harden further than he already has. He continues to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as his hands move under you. He pulls you up to a sitting position and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the soft noises he draws from you as his hands move to your back to work on the buttons that hold your dress up.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he lets out a groan as he exposes your bare back, the choice you made to forgo any undergarments becoming the smartest one you made all day. He makes quick work of your dress, parting from your lips as he throws it across the room. "Christ." He growls when he sits back and gazes at your naked body.

Your nipples are peaked from both the cold air of the room and the arousal caused by the way he is gazing down at you. The look of pure desire in his eyes makes you flood down your thighs, which he picks up on instantly. He grins, almost a cocky grin, before removing his clothes from the upper half of his body.

He bends down when he is bare-chested and kisses from your collarbone, down to your right breast. He sucks on the soft skin just to the side of your hardened nipple, making your hips cant up and into his, a whine escaping your lips. He chuckles deeply and moves a hand to yours, so you can have something to hang onto, the other moving to hold your hip down.

He pulls up briefly and rests his chin on your chest, gazing up at you adoringly. "You are perfect, Y/N. Every mark, every blemish, every imperfection is so gorgeous. So perfect for me." He murmurs and you flush, squeezing his hand in yours as a silent thank you as you are unsure if you could even form a sentence now. "Mine." He murmurs with a soft smile before returning his attention to your breasts.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you cry out at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the bud. You squeeze his hand and your back arches up into him, making him groan. He pushes you back down, all while his mouth sucks and swirls at your sensitive nipple, and rubs soothing circles on your hip with his thumb.

After a moment, he moves to your other breast, giving that one just as much attention. You whine as he bites down softly before pulling up and beginning to mark each of your breasts. He lets go of your hip and smears his hand down your thigh, gently parting your legs as he kisses down your stomach.

You gasp as he gives a kiss to your naval and look down just as he flashes a cheeky grin. He continues his trail of kisses right down to your patch of hair, your free hand grasping at the sheets while the other squeezes his. You cry out when he licks a stripe up your slit, his tongue pressing onto your swollen clit.

He takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it slowly, his hand moving back to your hips when you whine and try to grind against him. You roll your head back, pressing it into the pillow. You get a whiff of his scent and it sends a zing of pleasure to your abused clit just as he moves his mouth down to your swollen hole to drink from you like a man starved.

You moan into his pillow, taking the fabric into your mouth and sucking as pleasure ripples through your entire body. He moves his mouth back to your clit as he pushes one of his fingers into your body, groaning at how tight you are. You cry out, the sound still muffled by his pillow, at the feeling of his finger and the vibrations his noises send through your body.

He adds another finger and begins to curl them into your walls, hitting that spongey spot that makes you scream. Your toes curl as he pumps his fingers in and out of your body in tune with the swirling of his tongue against your clit. You finally take your face out of his pillow. "Close... Fuck please please please, Anthony." You babble as you begin to see stars. You come screaming his name, his fingers gripping your hip so hard you're sure you will be marked there too.

He cleans you up with his tongue before returning to your lips and giving you a swift, but sweet, kiss on your lips. He sits up and slowly rids himself of his trousers, his cock standing proud against his stomach. The sight makes you mewl and spread your legs even wider in anticipation of him filling you until his tip meets your womb.

He settles between your legs and takes both of your hands in his, pressing his forehead to yours. "I love you, Y/N." He murmurs. "I love you, Anthony." You return, and his lips are on yours. He slowly pushes his cock into your body, groaning into your mouth as you moan into his. He bottoms out and lets you adjust, kissing down your neck to your shoulder.

You gently push your hips down as a signal that he can move, and he grins against your skin. He begins to slowly rock in and out of your body, groaning at the noises he draws from your cunt. "Faster, Ant. Please." You gust into his hair, squeezing his hands tight in your own.

He does not need to be told twice. He begins to slam into your body, making your toes curl as you scream out. He continues his brutal pace, the sound of body meeting body filling the bedroom. He presses his forehead to yours just as your eyes shut. "Look at me." He whispers, stalling for a moment. "I want to see how good I make you feel. I've waited far too long for you to hide, my love." He breathes, and you open your eyes.

He gives that stupid arrogant smirk before beginning to thrust into you just as hard as before as if he never stopped. Your mouth hangs ajar, your mind too focused on the feeling of his cock to even try and stop the moans that flow freely from your mouth.

He moves a hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and circling to the rhythm of his thrusts. He growls when you clench around his length and moan his name. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck. "Come with me." He whispers, biting down on the skin.

The action sends you over the edge. You come for the second time, screaming his name and he follows soon after, painting your insides with his seed. He works you through your orgasm before pulling out and nuzzling your neck.

After a moment he climbs off of you and saunters to his bathroom, leaving you dazed on the bed. You turn your head and press your face into his pillow once more, letting his scent calm you down. He returns a moment later and laughs warmly at the sight. You blush at the noise and look up at him. "Funny that," He says, gesturing to his pillow as he cleans your thighs with the washcloth he brought out. "I did the same thing today." He grins.

"Mmm. When was that, hm? Did you sneak into my bedroom?" You tease and he grins, shaking his head as he places the washcloth on the bedside and crawls into bed. "No, though I am flattered you would think I would be so bold." He hums, pulling you under the covers with him and taking you into his arms.

You smile softly and bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes. "I did it when I walked past you at the ball. The young woman I was talking to thought I went mad. I had to stop and think of all of the fond memories I have of you." He murmurs as he rests his head atop yours, kissing it softly before closing his eyes as well.

You smile softly at the thought of him stopping mid-step just to think of you. It warms your soul. "I love you." You whisper, slowly nodding off to the sound of his heartbeat.

"And I love you, my star." He whispers before following you into a deep slumber.

The moon truly cannot thrive without the stars.

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rafecameroninterlude · 7 days

Note

I just saw that ur asks were emptied, idk if u remember but I had requested like innocent Bambi reader with Pervy step bro rafe, getting caught or something like this haha, I don’t remember everything but I think this was it

pairing: pervy!stepbro!rafe x bambi!reader

warnings: stepcest, sneaking around, heavy petting, unprotected sex, wheezie being a detective

a/n: yes, i remember anon!! i hope you like how this came out <3 you could find bambi!reader introduction here

“wait, wait, everyone is still awake!” you whispered, giggling softly as rafe closed your bedroom door. “please, i can’t wait any longer, i’ll go crazy if i have to use your panties to fuck my hand again.” he grabbed your ass, harshly gripping the flesh before littering your neck with kisses. “what are you talking about?” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “it’s nothing, baby, forget that i mentioned it.” rafe backed you up until the back of your knees met the edge of your bed. “you want to help me out with something?” he looked down at you, stroking your bottom lip with his thumb.

you nodded, allowing him to place your hand over the tent in his jeans. “you feel this? it hurts so bad, i need you to make me feel better. can you do that?” you peered up at him through your eyelashes, taking his digit into your mouth. “yes..”. within the next five minutes, rafe had your thighs pinned on either side of your head as he pounded into you at an unforgiving speed. “shhh, please stay quiet baby.” he threaded his fingers with yours, admiring the way your tits bounced with each one of his thrusts. “m’trying!” you cried softly, struggling not to let out an occasional whimper.

rafe kissed you in hopes to muffle the pretty sounds falling from your lips. “you can be as loud as you want when it’s just us two, okay?” you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck as he rested his forehead on your shoulder. “you have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to have you under me like this. i’ve woken up hard as fuck all because i dreamt of you taking my cock the night before.” you moaned at his revelation, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “rub your clit for me.” you did as he said, the added stimulation making you clench around his length.

just as you were about to tell him you were close, a knock sounded from the other side of the door. both of you froze, eyes wide as wheezie’s voice cut through the air. “y/n? are you okay in there?” she asked, the door knob rattling as you and rafe scrambled to get your clothes back on. “look, tomorrow everyone is gonna be out for dinner, make something up and say that you’re sick so you don’t have to go.” rafe kissed you, cursing under his breath. “hello?! y/n open the door!” you mumbled a quick ‘okay!’ before ushering rafe out. “chill out, wheez.” wheezie looked up at rafe confusingly.

“what is he doing in here? and why was the door locked?” she looked at you suspiciously, making your heart beat wildly in your chest. “oh! i had just borrowed his laptop for something. i must’ve locked the door on accident.” you smiled nervously, feeling small under her gaze. “anyways! i was just gonna see if you wanted to help me bake some cookies for my school thing on friday?” desperate to change the subject, you nodded frantically, hoping she wouldn’t ask anymore questions. “yes, that sounds fun! what kind of cookies did you have in mind?” you leaned against the doorframe.

she glanced past you, her eyes narrowing. “umm.. why is your bed like that?”

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themoonitselff · 6 months

Text

Senseless Secret.

Summary : After a long day, Mizu finally gets home to discharge her anger with you, the thing is that this is the first time you ever have an intimate moment, due to her issue with being touched ( You think she's a man, still don't know she's a woman.)

Warnings: Not proofread, nsfw, rough sex, risky sex, mentions of word “cunt”, clothed sex (js mizu), dirty talk, pet nickname. Be nice, it's my first time publishing nsfw.

“Mizu-- wait-” You mumbled between those wetty kisses, slowly falling backwards into the mattress.

“Unless you want everyone to hear you, be quiet.” demanded the black-haired, blue-eyed girl, who has been hunting you like an animal since you put a step inside the room.

Mizu got on top of your jelly body again, and continued pushing her lips onto yours like you were the fire of her loins, your tongues fighting with each other inside your mouth, wild and rough, while she undressed your body completely, which was helpless due to the strength of her grip. You slipped your hand through Mizu's clothes, but she quickly grabbed it, preventing you from discovering her little secret between her thighs.

“Nu-uh, not yet” Mizu cooed.

“That's not fair! Let me feel you too” You shrieked, pouting.

“I've been patient all my life to have you like this, you should do the same.” Then she took off her orange-tinted glasses and tossed them to the side of the room, those blue orbs could see through your soul, sneaking in your darker desires and lustful thoughts.

She left wet kisses on your lips, which descended to your neck, your breast, your abdomen and finally your venus mount, she looked at you once again, searching for approval, you could feel your inner walls pumping inside of you, desperately wishing for being penetrated, touched, satisfied, of course you nodded for her to continue, Mizu put her face between your thighs and plunged her lips over your clitoris, sucking it lasciviously, you immediately began to make noise, moaning and exhaling in pleasure, two fingers slipped into your wet, sloppy cunt, moving inside you in a back and forth motion, female juices trickled down her chin and hands, leaving her lips wet as she kept teasing and making you see the heavens, she pulled away from your clit to see your sweaty and red face, almost killing you in an instant because of how gorgeous she looked.

“Are you enjoying it?” She asked, slipping her fingers faster, her whole wrist was full of your fluids and cum.

“Fuck, yes-” You closed your eyes, embarrassed, you were so vulnerable at this point that if she tells you to fucking bark, you do it.

“Look at me when I fuck you with my fingers.” Even more brazen, she left a nibble on your inner thighs, making you shudder and whine.

Familiar steps came closer outside of the room, suddenly you remembered Ringo was making tea and he said he'll get you some, making you alarm and open your gaze widely, you tried to get up but a hand covered your mouth full of moans, you look at Mizu who's still fingering you like you were such a brat who needed a lesson.

“Mizu, stop, please-” You begged, feeling some kind of fear of Ringo finding you like this, being fucked by his master.

“Shhh.. We don't want him to know this, do we?” The samurai teased you.

Your body writhed like a worm because of the pleasure, Mizu removed her hand to exchange it with the other (hand cramps ofc), three long slender fingers entering you easily, expanding your cavity like a chewing gum. She moved to your clit to continue to lick the tip and fill it with saliva, her fingers getting tighter and tighter as they were caught in your cunt contractions, closer and closer to climax.

“ Y/N! I already made the tea, do you want sugar in it or you prefer it simple?” Ringo yelled from the outside of the room, he didn't know you were already having the sugar at this point.

You cursed in silence, and looked at Mizu with a sad puppy face, like telling her to stop, but she didn't, she liked to embarass you. It seemed like you had to answer.

“I-I... ! I like it simple, thank you.” The adrenaline was rushing through your spine, it was closer, and closer, and closer.

“Okay, bye!” You heard him getting away from your bedroom door. You finally let a loud moan, releasing your orgasm.

The fun part was that she was still pushing harder inside you, making you sensitive and sobbed.

“You did so well down here and containing your voice with Ringo.” Mizu cherished you, deepening the thrusts with her fingers. “That's my good pet.”

“I already cummed, please let me take a break..” You whimpered, full of tears and sobbings.

Your pelvis was contracting more and more, Mizu's tongue all over your entrance was driving you crazy, like you were about to have a second orgasm, a painful one.

“Is my poor little thing cumming again? Can you do that for me? ” Finally, she stopped licking your clit to get closer to your face, your thighs were around her waist as her fingers thrusted hard in your sweet point, your bodies were so close you could feel her heartbeat.

“Fuck-Yeah! Fuck me stupid-!” Your voice was cracking and getting higher of pleasure, your eyes connected with her as a lust emotion, her clothes were getting soggy of your fluids and sweat, it was so hot, she was so hot at this moment, then...

#mizu blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu #mizu bes #mizu x reader #mizu x you #blue eye samurai x reader #bes #gender neutral reader #mizu smut

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werecreature-addicted · 6 months

Note

Wolfie bf taking care and providing for you while you live together in a cabin in the woods while you make food for him and make the place more homey ✨ him coming home to a warm meal and kisses and being so happy that he fucks your brains out by the fireplace and then you fall asleep in his arms with the background noise of the rain 🥹

God, literally the dream. Imagine living deep in the lush woods, in a homey cozy cabin you can spruce up however you like. Your werewolf lover likes to see your style reflected in your shared home. He's never really felt "lonely" living alone but the house feels more like a home, he can't imagine life any other way. You're pretty happy too, obviously, who wouldn't be with such a big tough monster to come home to every day?

He loves to sneak up behind you when you're cooking and pull you away from the kitchen or at least up onto the kitchen counter. shhh, dinner can wait he's not that hungry anyway- he wants his welcome home kisses.

it's hard to deny him because you want to kiss him, but you know that he's too greedy to settle for just one kiss. you know that if you give him more than a peck his big hands will slip to your waist, and push down your pants. He's had a long day and just wants to bury his wolf tongue deep inside of you, how can you complain about that?

You convince him to at least take you to the living room to eat you out and keep the counters clean. He always makes a mess when he eats you, not stopping until you're making a mess squirting on his face.

he breathes heavily, licking his lips as he looks down at your throbbing pussy. you can see his hard cock straining, begging for attention. "need to be in you," he whimpers, as he slowly glides his hard cock over your pussy.

"fuck me," you invite, and he does.

The two of you stay curled in each other's arms lying on the rug in front of the fireplace. you feel his knot go down but he doesn't pull away, you don't ask him to either. it's nice like this, wrapped in your werewolf's big arms, comfy in your perfect little home.

#monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #monster imagine #werewolf x reader #werewolves #werewolf #werewolf boyfriend

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illyrianbitch · 2 months

Text

A Place for Dying

Pairing: Reader x Cassian

Summary: A mission with Cassian goes terribly wrong.

Warnings: major angst, mentions and depiction of gore, injury, battle, death.

Word Count: 2.3k

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The rain lashed down in relentless torrents as the sounds of clashing steel filled the air.

You didn’t know where they came from or how they managed to sneak up on you and Cassian so swiftly— appearing as if conjured by the storm itself. Within seconds you were swarmed.

The male in front of you was unlike any you’ve faced before, eyes ablaze with an eerie light as he attacked. You parried his blows with all your skill, but the mud beneath your feet made your movements slow and predictable, and his skill was otherworldly— something far sinister than what you’d been trained to fight. From the corner of your eye, you could see Cassian locked in combat with two other males, hair matted and siphons glowing angrily as he moved.

And then a searing pain exploded in your abdomen.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you glanced down, watching in horror as a sword was drawn from your abdomen, coated in blood. You felt your own weapon slipping from your now lax grip as your hand found its way to your gaping wound. A faint scream echoed in your ears as you looked up, meeting the male's triumphant grin, his sword poised to deliver the final blow.

Within a seconds, there was a second figure before you as a flash of red glow and power surged.

But you weren’t paying attention as your legs gave way beneath you.

You felt yourself falling, the world spinning as a fuzzy darkness crawled into your eyesight. You blinked. Cassian was there, hands reaching out to catch you and pull you into him.

"Shit, shit," he cursed under his breath. "Shit."

"Cassian," you croaked. Your voice was barely a whisper against the roar of the storm, a painful groan that made his stomach clench. His gaze swept over the chaos around you, the soaked mud now scarcely decorated with the bodies of the fallen soldiers. He looked over briefly at the male that had stabbed you, now lying lifeless where Cassian had struck him.

"You're okay, you're good," Cassian said. He attempted to readjust himself, wrapping an arm around your torso as he pulled your other around his shoulders. His body groaned in response, searing pain igniting through his torn clothes.

"Cass, I can't—I can't.”

"Shhh," Cassian said. He took a deep breath as he began to walk forward, surveying his surroundings for the next possible move. "Don't speak. I got ya."

His shredded wings hung limp behind him, now sodden and stained with mud. You hung from him completely, unable to keep yourself up as your legs dragged behind you with every move. Cass clenched his teeth, his mind blurring out the pain of his own injuries to focus solely on you. Any wrong move could worsen your injuries. He needed to find a place to rest, to wait for Rhysand or Azriel.

Your grip tightened on your stomach, trying to staunch the flow of blood as Cassian's hand now covered yours.

"Cass," you rasped.

He kept moving, his body protesting with every step forward.

"Rhys and Az will be here, okay?" Cassian replied, his voice strained with the effort of masking his own fear. "Let me just get you somewhere safe."

"We don't have time."

Cassian shook his head, his feet dragging through the mud as he continued. Everywhere in his body screamed with pain, his senses overwhelmed by the taste of blood in the air and the relentless pounding of the rain. He could feel the weight of you pulling on him getting worse as you weakened, the strain growing in the tension of his muscles as he struggled to keep moving.

Through the hand that covered yours, Cassian could feel the blood seeping through your fingers. He fought to distract himself from the sight and sensation, focusing instead on the rhythm of his own breath, the steady beat of his heart. He needed to think.

He whispered silent prayers to whatever gods may be listening, willing you to hold on just a little while longer. But the taste of blood lingered in his mouth and every scream in his mind was met with empty silence. A deep sense of foreboding settled in his gut, a primal instinct that warned him that you might be vulnerable to yet another ambush. He also knew, deep down, that Rhys and Az wouldn’t be coming anytime soon.

All he could do was wait, to get you settled somewhere so your body could begin to heal. That wouldn’t happen as long as he was dragging your body through mud and rain. With a determined mind, he steered you deeper into a grove of trees.

You reached a small clearing, the burden of the pouring rain now lessened by the canopy above you. Cassian leaned against a sturdy tree, carefully lowering you both down until you were cradled in his arms, your back pressed against his chest. You let out a choked sound of pain, eyes clenching as a wave of nausea ran through you.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

Cassian’s voice was a gentle caress. If you had the energy to pay attention, you would have noticed the fear that settled in it, the utter desperation.

Cassian let out a deep breath, his jaw set in determination as he lifted his hand to help you raise your shaky one, guiding it to apply more pressure to your wound. He could feel it underneath his fingertips, see it even through your black leathers, the blood pouring from you still. A knot tightened in his stomach.

He felt your shallow breaths against his chest as your trembling form leaned back against him. You closed your eyes and let your head fall backwards onto his shoulder.

"It's bad, isn't it?" you whispered.

Cassian took another deep breath, his mind racing as he fought to keep his composure for your sake. "Nothing you haven't faced before."

A small laugh escaped your lips. For a moment, Cassian's gaze softened as the sound filled his ears, a sense of comfort rolling through his body in a slow wave.

"Just keep the pressure on it, alright?"

You gave a shaky nod. "Okay.”

Cassian took a moment to assess the situation. Without any materials to staunch the bleeding, all he could do was wait and try to keep you distracted from the pain. He looked down at you, taking in the sight of your matted hair, drenched in mud and blood, streaks of crimson mingling with the rainwater on your face. Despite it all, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

Desperation clawed at him as he continued to plead with Rhys in his mind, willing his friend to come to your aid. But yet again, his cries were met with a deep, heavy silence. No response, no feeling of a message having been received. Cass wrapped himself around you even closer.

"It'll make a badass scar," he said.

Again, you managed a weak laugh, but it was cut short by a bubbling sound that sent a chill down Cassian's spine. He felt his stomach drop as he realized the source— blood gurgling from your throat, staining your perfect smile crimson.

With a trembling hand, Cassian cradled your head, pulling you closer to him, his own face hovering inches from yours in a desperate attempt to offer what little comfort he could. There was a painful pang in his chest as he felt your breaths becoming shallower. He gave you a gentle nudge.

"Hey, stay with me," he implored, voice laced with desperation. "Look at me.”

"I can't… I'm so tired," you replied weakly.

"Yes, you can," Cassian said. "I know it's hard, but you gotta keep those pretty eyes open, okay?"

"Cassian."

His name was a desperate plea, a sound of pure agony that fell from your lips.

"I know, I know," he murmured, his own voice choking. He cleared his throat. "But you gotta keep fighting, alright? Can you do that for me?"

You nodded faintly, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Okay."

"Good, good," Cassian said, his heart aching as he watched you struggle. "Let me see."

With great effort, you managed to tilt your head, your teary eyes meeting his. Cassian swallowed back his own tears, his voice trembling slightly as he whispered, "There they are."

Your brow furrowed in determination as you gathered the strength to speak, and you began, "Cass, I want you to know…"

But Cassian started shaking his head vehemently, his voice firm as he interrupted, "No, no."

"I should've told you sooner-”

Cassian's head continued to shake, his eyes pleading with you to stop. "Y/n, please.”

But you pressed on, the words tumbling from your lips despite his protests. "You need to know that I-"

"No," Cassian interrupted again, his voice desperate. "You can tell me when we get back. Don't say that."

"Cassian, please, let me-"

"No. You can tell me when we get back home," Cassian insisted once again, his eyes wide and desperate. "And then I can tell you I feel the same way. That I’ve felt the same way for centuries. And I can take you out on a real date. Do it all properly. Okay?"

You paused. After a moment, you quietly replied, "Okay."

Cassian leaned his head down, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head before resting his own against it. "Just a little longer," he whispered softly, “I promise.”

He knew it was wrong, that he shouldn’t be promising anything in your condition, that he should have let you speak. But Cassian refused. He refused because your words were those of a dying female, words of a confession that you’d release upon death. And you weren’t dying, not today. He refused.

So he focused on your body against him, playing another chaste kiss atop your head. He felt you shift slightly beneath him.

"Isn't that beautiful?"

Cassian frowned, pulling his eyes away from you to look at the view in front. Over the small clearing the setting sun shone through gaps within the trees. Cassian nodded, his eyes fixed on the horizon for a moment before he looked down at you, gaze tender and unwavering. "Breathtaking," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Those words were only for you.

"So beautiful.”

But as Cassian continued to hold you close, a sense of unease began to gnaw at him. Where were Rhysand and Azriel? Who else was hurt? What could he do to help you?

His thoughts ran through his mind, clumping into large knots he couldn’t read. But then, Cassian’s heart stopped, a surge of panic flowing through his body as he tightened his grip on your hand.

You weren’t moving beneath him. No shallow breaths, no coughing.

"Y/n?" he whispered, his hand moving to cradle your face, angling it towards him. “No, no, no.”

His hand trembled as he brushed your cheek, searching desperately for any sign of life. But there was no response, no flutter of eyelids or rise and fall of breath. And then he saw it—your eyes closed, your features peaceful in repose, the ghost of a weak smile.

His eyesight began to grow blurry as tears filled his eyes once more, now freely falling as he took you in. Cassian let his forehead fall to rest against yours as he began to sob, the weight of grief crushing him in its wake.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The sun was gone by time Rhys and Azriel appeared, desperately running forward with bruised and bloodied faces. Rhys was the first to speak, his words tumbling out before he could fully take in the scene. "We came as fast as we could, there was an att—"

But his voice faltered the same second Az took a sharp inhale next to him.

Cassian sat before them, hair matted and wings limp around him, cradling your body in his hands. He brushed his thumb against your cheek, tears glistening in his eyes as he remained lost in his grief, not sparing his brothers a glance.

Without hesitation, Azriel's shadows swarmed around you, a protective cocoon enfolding your form. One shadow returned to him, and within seconds his expression dropped. He turned to Rhys with a shake of his head.

"I told her to stop," Cassian's voice trembled as he finally looked up, meeting their gazes. His face was still painted in blood and dirt, streaked by the rain and tears. There were bags under his eyes and a sense of despair they'd never seen before, not in the centuries he had existed. "I told her to wait until we got home to tell me."

He glanced down at you again, running a hand over your hair as he continued, "I didn't let her tell me she loved me." Each word hung heavy in the air, a tangible ache in his voice as he spoke.

Rhys stepped forward, clearing his throat as a deep sadness weighed in his stomach. "Cass—"

But Cassian shook his head, cutting him off. "I didn't get to tell her I love her."

Loved her, his mind reminded him. Loved her.

Rhys knelt down in front of him, exchanging a solemn glance with Azriel. He gave a nod with his head towards Cassian’s wings. It only took Azriel seconds to take in the state of them, torn and bloody, more of the membrane missing than what remained.

"We need to go home," Rhys said quietly, his hand resting on Cassian's shoulder. “You need Madja.”

But Cassian only shook his head as he pulled you closer.

"Just five more minutes," he pleaded, pressing his face to your head. He took a deep breath, his senses filled with the smell of dirt, sweat, and blood. But beneath it all, he caught a hint of you, of the smell he’d grown to love. A scent that felt like home.

He inhaled it deeply, savoring it and storing it away in his mind. He would never smell it again.

“Just five more minutes.”

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

me saying i need to get in the headspace of writing angst for one of my series parts and writing this teehee

also… isn’t it so sad when u realize they never ever kissed 😭(😋😋)

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites

#cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #cassian x reader angst #cassian fanfic #cassian fanfiction #cassian fic #cassian angst #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar x reader #acotar x you #cassian/reader #cassian acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic

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bg3scenarios · 1 month

Text

Astarion: Ughhh… Why are we in a library? I want to stab something…

Astarion: You’re such a goody-two-shoes

Gale: Shhh…

Astarion: Why are we sneaking around?

Astarion: …

Astarion: …Wait

Astarion: Is it after hours?

Gale: …

Astarion: Are we breaking and entering?

Gale: Yes, now shush!

Astarion: Now that I know we’re breaking the rules, I’m having fun

Gale: Quiet!

#bloodweave #astarion ancunin #astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale x astarion #astarion x gale #galestarion

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reallyromealone · 1 month

Text

Title: Oh Look a mate(s)

Chapter 3

Fandom: obey me

Pairing: demon brother's x male reader

Warnings: omega verse, nsfw, male reader, gay, smut, attempted assassination, drugging, biting, torture

Notes:

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

It was tomorrow.

The wedding was tomorrow.

(Name) Was quiet as he waited in the altar room, candles circling the room as marble carved murals surrounded him, the ceiling glass and the moon directly above him.

He sat in silence as the moon reached its peak before shadows flooded around him, a cold smoke that strangely didn't strike him with fear but instead filled him with warmth and safety. "Good Omega" one of the voices whispered as shadowy hands grabbed at him, gently touching and smoothing over the linen nightgown he wore before a long finger sliced it down the middle "Shhh" he could hear Satan's voice whisper in his ear as the seven men materialized and kissed various parts of his now exposed flesh "beautiful..." Mammon whispered breathlessly before biting into (name) 's flesh, the others doing the same.

Each scent gland was claimed as a tattoo manifested onto their soulmate tattoos, the demons licking and kissing their soulmate marks "You're bonded to us forever... Whenever you need us, call for us..." Beelzebub said as his blackened eyes gently kissed (name) 's lips as the fire of the candles burned brighter "Alphas...." (Name) Babbled as he leaned into someone's shoulders, Levi he believed... "So beautiful..." Asmodeus whispered as his hand crept down to the other's abdomen and began whispering enchantments, hand glowing as a tattoo formed on his stomach "Your first heat will be in less than 24 hours, this will help keep it from hurting so badly"

Never would he be denied a heat again.

The men scented and kissed (name), they could smell the slick flowing from him but knew better and to wait, wait till it was time.

When morning came, (name) was kept from his alphas all morning as he was polished to perfection, traditional white robes and gold accessories set aside as they painted swirls on his body, apparently matching the marks that would be on his alphas.

He looked at himself in the mirror, the makeup, the paint, and the clothes... He hardly recognized himself.

But it was him.

All him.

Lucifer made sure the guards were on high alert as he and his brothers got dressed, in their traditional robes that were the color of their omegas eyes, as is tradition in the kingdom, they already had two people sneak in after all.

"Your Majesty?" A meek voice spoke out as the demon turned to see an Omega maid look nervous, his eyes sharp and calculating "What is it?" He said simply and the maid straightened her back a bit before speaking once more "His Highness... He's extremely stressed and I thought it would be best if one of his--" Lucifer was already darting out of the room for his mate, he didn't care if he wasn't supposed to see him till the wedding.

His mate needed him.

(Name) Was freaking out as his omega decided Kw was an excellent time to freak out over the lack of alphas.

To be fair he got scented every morning but today, was a very high-stress day.

"My, aren't you beautiful" (name) snapped his head up as the maids left the room with haste and (name) whined and ran towards him, shoving his face into the alpha's chest and whining "My, can't go a day without your alphas?" He teased and lifted (name) 's face to look at it "None of that, you will ruin your pretty makeup" he was only soft for his omega, gentle kisses "We have a wedding, right? We will dance and party and then when the moon is high we will take you back here" he promised and kissed (name), scenting him lovingly.

"Now be good for alpha" he commanded, a slight alpha tone that they found calms (name). He liked not being in control all the time, instinctually.

"Ok alpha" he whispered hazily as the maids came back in and Lucifer left to finish getting ready, confident that he calmed his mate.

(Name) Looked nervous as he was ushered into a beautiful fabric and mahogany palanquin, the finest silks used for it "To walk you to the temple, your Highness" a soldier said calmly and (name) nodded as the soldiers in celebratory costume lifted it and (name) tried not to yelp.

He walked through the city, a grand parade to show the people the next queen, and (name) shyly waved at them as the people cheered in joy and some looked in envy at him. He could hear screaming in the distance, too focused on the slight shake with each step the guards took and the loud sounds around him to figure out what direction it came from exactly but the bullet that flew past his nose as a man was pinned down by guards have his answer, the omegas palanquin lowering as the guards checked on him "oh thank goodness... Are you alright your Highness?" The general that was a bit ahead rushed to check on him and (name) though stunned and Shellshocked, nodded slowly the Alpha nodded with a sigh of relief "We will get there soon your Highness"

The parade continued and (name) tried to regulate his breathing as he lifted his sleeves and took in the smell of Lucifer that clung to him, too close to his heat to be able to properly handle this.

God, he was so tired...

"We're here your Highness" Had that much time passed?

(Name) Was helped out by his maids, dressed in floral traditional outfits, darker colors as to highlight (name) 's snow white robes that dragged behind him, gold accents matching his accessories "You got this, your Highness" (name) 's closest maid, the one in charge of his maids smiled and (name) nodded before walking up the steps of the temple as people cheered.

Traditional fan dancers danced in front of him, a beautiful display as the guests of the wedding sat and watched in awe as (name) locked eyes with his alphas and had to suppress a chirp. The dancers moved their fans away to make an entrance for (name) to walk closer to them, Asmodeus taking his hands and kissing them gently as the others looked fond at the sight of their beloved, even Belphegor awake and focused on (name).

(Name) Looked at the guests, from countless kingdoms the Royals down to the mayors from cities including the village he was from, and looked in awe at the realization of how large this temple was, it seemed so small in the darkness.

(Name) Barely focused on the priestess as he looked at his mates, shadowy magic binding them together as (name) agreed to the contract of marriage "bound by the fates and the demon king himself, his Highness (name) Morningstar is granted a gift from his majesty of immortality, may his heart beat so long as his alphas" the demon king sat in the distance, watching his younger sons fondly, leaving hell to witness such an event as a red-haired demon stood beside him while staring intently.

(Name) Felt warm as he was brought close by his alphas and danced with them, a grand party that was sure to go on for the next week as guests watched and the city partied and after brought around to be introduced to guests "This is our elder brother, the next king" Lucifer introduced the Omega to his elder brother, next king of hell and intimidating to say the least but the large grin that broke out on his face said otherwise "my, a pleasure to meet you! My apologies that it took me so long to be able to meet you! Let me know if they act up all right. It will be nice to not have a little brother that will get on my nerves!" He teased as he hugged (name) and seemed so warm and understanding to him.

"My mate couldn't make it sadly, they're too far along to make the trip but hopefully after you two can meet!" Lucifer felt warm that his elder brother and a mate got along so well as the other brothers were dragged to talk to guests and eventually Lucifer and (name) went to speak to others, the Omega passed from alpha to alpha to not hog.

"An hour and you don't greet your parents?" (Name) Froze under Asmodeus' gentle hold as he turned to see the mayor of his village and his parents... And sister.

How did they get here?

"Not even an invite, thankfully our dear mayor invited us as his plus ones as his wife and sons couldn't make it," she said casually as his sister altered between glaring at him and swooning over Asmodeus, the beta looking flirty and showing her bust at him but the demon didn't even acknowledge her as he tilted his head at his mate's parents with a cold smile (name) didn't recognize but the gentle thumb rubbing his hip told him he was safe "my~ isn't this a surprise, (name) darling... Why don't you go make sure Beelzie doesn't eat everything, yes?" He urged his hesitant Omega who looked so precious and watched him walk away.

"E-excuse me!" The dad tried barking out and Asmodeus smiled coldly, a beta demanding not just an alpha but a supernatural alpha. Laughable really "I will allow you to continue to enjoy this celebration but if I hear even a whisper of my mate's name from any of your lips that isn't shining adoration I will remind you of your place," Asmodeus said barely above a whisper as he towered over the stumpy beta and his family, he read the letter.

All seven brothers read the letter.

And despite not being wrath, Asmodeus was the most upset.

No flirting, no banter.

Just a thinly veiled threat.

"Now you best behave"

You would think this Would deter (sister), make her behave... But no no.

She was hell-bent on having them.

Breaking this farce is a marriage.

It was expensive getting rut enhancer drugs but it was worth it in her eyes she looked around and saw that (name) was moved to Belphegor who sat in a corner quietly and (name) said worthless words to him and saw that Beelzebub was enjoying his food.

Perfect.

The drug was a fine powder, easy to mask on the powdered cream puffs that the demon was gorging on, slipping past when he went for some ribs and sprinkling on.

She just had to be available when the drugs kicked in.

It was not too long before the demon returned his attention to the cream puffs... But other people took them as well.

Like servants bringing them to their kings.

Oh well, she thought as she focused on Beelzebub and deemed everyone else as a stepping stone to her happiness.

Beelzebub froze after ten minutes, eyes dilating as he stood and looked around "Are you alright?" She tried to seduce the Alpha, pressing against him but like her brother, she didn't quite understand how mating worked and believed he would go to the first willing hole.

But in reality, he sought out (name) who was talking to Diavolos butler, the two fondly chatting about something or another.

"Move," he said coldly as he locked onto (name) marched to him, and lifted him, the other brothers looked concerned as Diavolo decided to start a ring dance and nodded at Lucifer, they all seemed to understand what was happening. (Name) Was confused as he was held close by his alpha who left the temple gardens and spread his wings before taking off, (name) shoving his face in Beelzebub's neck and that's when he smelt the rut. He couldn't help but whine, he was trying so hard not to go into heat but fuck...

He closed his eyes and felt himself sink further, sounds distorting and he felt his clothes removed carefully as voices spoke around him "he will be upset if we ruin this" Asmodeus...? Or is that Satan? "Alpha?" He slurred as the alphas kissed his flesh, cold to the touch and he felt something hard press against his back before he was pushed into his back, he couldn't even formulate a feeling of shame or worry as Belphegor traced the body paint that was on (name)s flesh "pretty..." The sleep demon murmured as he touched the womb tattoo a wave of pleasure washed through (name) and a low moan broke through him "Any pain he feels will feel like absolute pleasure... We may be dealing with a very horny Omega" Asmodeus teased, they didn't have an incantation to make him feel no pain during heat or pregnancy so it was the best option.

Especially because he kept moaning and crying, without it he would be writhing in pain.

"Why don't you spread your legs for us? Hmm? Show us how an Omega presents?" Lucifer spoke low and deep to the Omega who spread his legs on the bed and yelped when Beelzebub shoved his face between his legs and gave a long lick, pushing his legs over his shoulders as half his body was pulled nearly off the bed, Beelzebub on his knees before the bed. "O-oh! Alpha!" He cried out as Beelzebub ate his ass, licking around the rim before pushing in ever so slightly as the smell of slick was heavy in the room "wanna make alpha feel good? Why don't you show Levi here how much you want his cock?" Asmodeus took the initiative with getting (name) to pleasure them as they pleasured him, the Omega opening his mouth so prettily as the shy alpha fed him his cock, (name) licking the underside as he sucked. "H-how did he get so good?!" Levi gasped as he felt (name) hollow his cheeks with a vice force "I have been teaching him how to be a good little cock whore~" Asmodeus teased as Belphegor sucked on one of (name)s nipples as Asmodeus and Lucifer got hand jobs, the two assisting (name) a bit as his body shook.

Satan kissed his navel before moving to the omegas cock and sucking on it, the pre-cum leaking like crazy as (name) struggled to comprehend all the pleasure he felt, hips being held down as Beelzebub inserted a finger, curving it upwards against his prostate as he ate his ass like a final meal and added another finger "you're gonna be-- fuck! Taking a lot tonight baby ~" Asmodeus stammered as Levi came down (name)s throat, the Omega choking slightly but managing "fuck..? Shit.." Levi was already babbling as (name) 's body shook and a climax rolled through, Satan drinking it all "You want more?" Lucifer asked the Omega who whined "Nest!" Beelzebub wasting no time, feral and horny As the other alphas slowly went into a rut from being around a heat-stricken Omega, their demon forms were on full display. (Name) Was settled into his nest as they let Beelzebub enter first his large and heavy cock pressing against (name)s ass as (name) made out with Lucifer, pretty little sounds as Beelzebub pushed in slowly.

Each inch made for louder and prettier sounds from (name) as his body glistened with sweat, another climax rolling through him as Beelzebub was halfway through bottoming out before his hips snapped forward and his pelvic bone was pressed against (name)s ass cheeks "oh! Big...!" He cried out and pushed against him as Belphegor went behind him and held him up, kissing his neck as the others watched hungrily.

Beelzebub wasted no time pistoning his hips as (name) clawed at his skin, body shaking and writhing in pleasure as he poured slick "puppy up!" He cried out as he begged to be bread, owned and full... Belphegor moved around to Sroke (name)s cock and kiss his neck before biting into its neck watching (name) unfold as Beelzebub rolled his hips at the tightness and his grip so tight it was going to leave dark bruises on his hips come morning.

"Please please! Pup!" (Name) Begged for cum, pulling Beelzebub for a kiss and tasting his slick as the alpha's hips slammed one last time and cum poured into him, hot and sticky.

Beelzebub felt some sanity return to him as he looked at a fucked out (name) who couldn't even form words but babbled nonsense as Belphegor kissed him and coddled him "Let's get water and food into him then the next round starts" Lucifer instructed as they already prepared the necessary things that morning, food tested by the demons along with the water before feeding it to (name).

(Name) May have immortality but they still didn't want anything to happen to him.

Though poison pains right now would probably give him six earth-shattering orgasms.

No! No! Bad!

They washed the sweat and paint off his body as (name) recovered slightly but soon grew whiny as he was placed on top of Asmodeus, cock pushing in with ease and crying as Asmodeus gave harsh and slow thrusts.

"Come now, you got more to take ~"

Mammon was furious, absolutely livid as he slammed his fist against the assassin's skull, not wanting this vermin alive as his mate struggled with his heat and six cocks currently "You are taking my precious time with my mate, who the fuck sent you?" He was bordering feral as the assassin finally gave in "The sister! She wanted him dead!"

Oh?

Interesting.

Mammon left swiftly, telling the guards to find her, she couldn't have gotten far after all.

For now, the greedy demon needed to sink his cock into (name)s cute little ass.

And maybe bite it.

Bite it.

When he walked into the heated room, already nude he was met with (name) being railed by Asmodeus and Satan, cocks moving in his hole at vigorous paces as (name) sucked Lucifer's cock like he would die "(name), look whose here" Lucifer pulled him off his cock to look at mammon and the whine and moan that left his lips as he cried for the silver-haired demon, hands reaching for him, and who was mammon to deny something like this?

Mammon shoved his tongue in (name) 's mouth and relished as the Omega tugged at his hair "Wanna make me feel good?" He didn't even have to show his erect cock as (name) moved and took it in his mouth, mammon sighing at the tightness of his throat "he's a natural" Satan slapped (name)s ass as he pounded as Asmodeus sucked on his chest, the omegas hands going back to work as everyone slowly found a spot for them, the Omega cumming again in the process.

(Name) Was unconscious with Belphegor, needing a heavy rest before the next wave and thoroughly fucked out, the other alphas getting their turns after as Mammon reported findings and what the assassin admitted "She most definitely drugged Bee, our ruts not till winter" Asmodeus said thoughtfully, he should have just let Satan do what he originally wanted to do but that was (name)s choice, not theirs.

But now it was treason that they were talking about.

An attempted assassination against (name).

You see when Diavolo was the next king of hell, they were given rule of the overworld and essentially made (name) queen as they were to be overworld kings come coronation granted by their eldest brother.

And after this, (name) would be carrying their heir.

God, they were half erect at the thought of (name) pregnant.

"I have a manhunt for them, a bounty will be put up as well"

For now, they would care for (name).

When (name) woke, he couldn't feel his legs and his head felt foggy as he was placed into a warm bath "Good morning, lamb" Satan caressed his cheek "Alpha?" He said weakly, voice hoarse from their activities as Mammon gently massaged oils into him, the alphas already washing the cum and sweat off him "Hello pretty baby~ you took us so well, we are so proud of you" (name) chirped at the praise as he received loving kisses "after this was gonna feed you" Lucifer promised and (name) felt a slight sense of clarity "cuddle? Before heat comes back?" He asked as the others smiled, unable to resist the request.

(Name) Was naked and dried off as he cuddled the others who doted on him "You did so well, absolutely beautiful my love" Asmodeus cooed, and (name) let him kiss and love him "My garden?" He asked softly, why that was his worry beyond anyone but Lucifer eased his worries with the promise of the gardeners taking care of it.

For now, he was to relax.

#obey me omegaverse #obey me x male reader #obey me smut #obey me x reader #omega male reader #omegaverse #male Reader #x male reader #lucifer x reader #asmodeus x male reader #satan x male reader #leviathan x male reader #beelzebub x male reader #belphegor x male reader #mammon x male reader

663 notes · View notes

littlexdeaths · 2 months

Text

fever pitch - r.b.

softball player robin buckley x cheerleader fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: all characters are 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, public sex, thigh riding, secret relationship, allusions to sex, bullying, mean!dom robin, little bit of mean reader, jealous reader

this is a collab with the absolutely brilliant @undead-supernova !! i literally had so much fucking fun writing this with you august, and it might be my favorite robin fic i’ve ever written. i feel like our brains collided and made a gay ass baby and i’m so proud of us. we hope you enjoy xx.

word count: 3.7K

“Shhh, don’t want us getting caught like this do you?”

Robin’s voice is hushed but stern, now lifting her head from between your trembling thighs. The blonde has you spread out on a bench in the dugout, skirt shoved up around your hips as her tongue laps up everything you have to offer.

That is until a broken moan leaves your lips, unable to stop it as her fingers curl up inside you. The sound breaks through the silence, the only thing heard above the soft hum of cicadas.

“What would your little friends think, hmm?” she taunts, brow raised as she looks up at you, dirt still smeared across her cheeks from the game. “Knowing a loser is the one making you feel so good?”

In that moment you can’t find it within yourself to care anymore, gripping her hair in your fist to guide her back between your legs. “Let them.”

Robin hums, her lips drifting lower to nip at the tender skin of your thighs. The action causes another loud whimper to leave you. “You sure about that, honey?”

“I don’t care,” you admit out loud for the first time, thoughts completely overwhelmed with all things Robin.

“Fuck, I don’t care anymore,” you sigh.

Never in your wildest dreams would you think tonight would turn out like this.

You’d been watching her from the sidelines as she attempted to slide into homebase, coming up a little short. You’d never gotten to see her play before, your extracurriculars usually running at the same time. But today had been just your luck, with Chrissy spraining her ankle, immediately being rushed off to get it iced. Coach ended practice shortly after—no use continuing without the star of the squad there, right?

It gave you the perfect opportunity to watch her without raising any suspicion—two of your teammates by your side, laughing as Robin struck out. You took your lower lip between your teeth, trying not to gawk as she rose to her feet. Dusting the dirt off her thighs when she caught your eye, biting back a smirk as she made her way towards the dugout.

But not before stopping by where you were leaning against the bleachers. Right there, in front of everyone for the first time.

See, this has been going on for months. The sneaking around, the feigned rivalry.

If only they knew what was really happening behind closed doors.

You first noticed her late one afternoon, walking to your car after cheer practice. Robin hadn’t even crossed your radar, barely a glance in the hallway. Too wrapped up in your own world to notice. But there was just something about the warm glow of the sunset laying against her flushed cheek. The way she found your eyes, like she knew your secret, before she spit out the shell of a sunflower seed. Chuckling as she grabbed her bat and walked off.

All you knew after that was you desperately wanted to know more. And boy, did you.

You quickly learned through word of mouth that she had been caught hooking up with some girl in the band room after school. That confirmation prompted you to start dropping her little hints. Longing glances when no one was paying attention, nods in the hallway. Sneaking out of practice early just so she’d notice you walk by. And, sure, she noticed.

But Robin wasn’t going to come easy, was she?

No, she wanted to make you work for it. To prove to her you were serious, not just another girl looking to make out with her for the thrill of it. Or some sick joke conjured up by the cheer squad to humiliate her more.

You quickly realized that your subtle hints were not going to get you what you wanted. Her.

One day you’d finally had enough, boldly slipping a note in her locker between classes. Coaxing her to meet you in the secluded alley between the gym and the cafeteria. A place you’d only used to meet a certain super senior when you wanted to buy some weed.

A spot unknown or used by the majority of the students of Hawkins High, knowing you wouldn’t be seen or heard by any curious passersby.

Part of you was worried she wouldn't show, becoming increasingly more nervous as time passed. Any lingering qualms were squashed when you saw her striding down the narrow path towards you. She looked good, her dark jeans hugging her hips just right. A button-up shirt tucked loosely into them, the top few buttons left open.

You wanted nothing more than to lean forward, closing the short distance between your bodies. Leave a trail of blues and purples along her exposed skin. And that terrified you, to know that one girl could mess you up in such a monumental way.

“So,” you mumbled, kicking a pebble with the tip of your sneaker.

“So,” she answered, crossing her arms over her chest.

Without hesitation, you introduced yourself but Robin gave you a confused look.

“Yeah, I already know who you are.”

“You do?”

“Well, we’ve gone to school together our whole lives…” she paused, running a hand through her hair, “and when a girl is practically eye-fucking you in the halls, it’s hard not to notice.”

“Oh, right,” you replied, looking down. Embarrassment washed over you. “Sorry, I guess I misinterpreted this whole thing.”

You carefully pushed off the wall, ready to walk away and pretend like this whole thing never happened. Save yourself the humiliation.

But her soft voice stopped you in your tracks.

“I wouldn't say that.”

“Then what would you say?” you asked, more confident now.

“You’re the one who asked me here,” Robin pointed out, turning the focus back to you.

And just as quickly as your confidence had risen, it fell. So you looked down again, now fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“I don’t, um,” you struggled. “I don’t really know how to say it. I just…I…”

“Oh, just spit it out already.”

You looked up at her exasperated expression, narrowing your eyes. “Fine! Fine. Whatever. I like you, okay?”

“Like me? We’ve never spoken.”

“Don’t give me that when I’ve seen the way you look at me too.”

Robin’s hardened expression fell. “Touché.”

Silence fell between you, Robin lifting her head to look at the sky. You couldn’t help but squirm again, feeling a desperate urge to breathe in her scent.

You sighed. “So, what do we do now?”

“Hell if I know,” she replied, looking back at you. “I thought you were stuck up like the rest of your prissy friends.”

“Not when I’m around you,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “You make me feel…different, somehow.”

“I could make it much worse for you, you know,” Robin replied, a smug grin reaching her lips as she stepped closer to you. “All you have to do is ask.”

“Please—”

“Actually, no,” Robin interrupted, fingers inching towards your hip. “You should beg.”

“Please,” you said without hesitation. “Please, Robin. I need you.”

Robin knew she shouldn’t. And so did you. But there was just something there, pressing against your chests as Robin pressed you against the brick. And when she kissed you the first time, you nearly whined in contentment, mewling softly against her mouth.

That kiss left you feeling desperate, eager for her to show you more. However, Robin wasn’t going to chase you, forcing you to take matters into your own hands. You sought her out one night after practice, pulling her into the equipment room outside the gym. Backing her body against the door, lips meeting once you heard the lock click into place.

“Just couldn’t stay away now, could you, baby?” she mumbled against your mouth, pulling a soft whine from you as she nipped at your lower lip. The noise caused her to laugh softly.

“I want you, Robs.”

She hummed in response, letting her lips trail across your jaw. “Want me how?” she prodded as the tip of her nose skimmed along your collarbone, rendering you utterly speechless.

“Show me,” she breathed, further stealing the breath from your lungs as she kissed you deeply. Taking control as she flipped your positions, enclosing you against the door.

You’re pliable under her soft touch, guiding her fingers up and underneath your pleated skirt. The blue of her irises nearly swallowed whole by her pupils as she gazed at you hungrily. That look ignited something within you, feeling emboldened as you reached forward to undo her pants. Exploring each other in a way that was unfamiliar to you, her skilled fingers helping to guide you with ease.

After that, it was just your little secret, with no one being the wiser. Why would they? You were on the opposite ends of the food chain, fractured by the Hawkins High hierarchy. Leaving little glances across the cafeteria, brushes of your fingertips in the hallway as a secret reminder of what you two had. It didn’t hurt that you could sit in class, practice, or even the shower and think about how they’d brush against your breasts later.

Of course, you couldn’t help but wind her up whenever you could be overheard. As she would gladly put you in your place in private.

But you knew as she approached you on the field with that familiar glint in her eye— you were really in for it this time.

“What’s so funny?” Robin asked, removing her gloves. You let your eyes linger on her fingers for a moment as she gripped the leather. Quickly shifting your gaze elsewhere as you pressed your thighs together.

Something the blonde didn’t miss. Holding back a smug smile as she looked between the three of you.

“You’re just such a loser,” Carol snickered, snapping her gum between her teeth.

Heather joined in with a giggle. “Yeah, maybe you should look into joining the t-ball team. Seems like a much better fit for you.”

Heather knew she struck a nerve, pleased with herself as Robin’s jaw clenched in anger.

“Oh, yeah?” Robin said, ready to egg her on. “And what do you know, Holloway? I’d like to see you do something other than shake your ass at Billy Hargrove during games. Don’t you find it pathetic how desperate you are for his attention?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Heather snapped back. “As if you are getting any. No one even knows your name.”

“You’d be surprised,” Robin replied, her eyes shifting towards you as if on instinct. “You know, I don’t recall ever seeing this one with a guy.”

“You better get back to that pitch before you strike out, Buckley,” you bit back, shooting her a warning look. “Again.”

With a shake of her head, Robin glanced behind you at your “friends” before scoffing and turning. But not before she took her cleat and scuffed up dirt onto your shiny white sneakers.

“Oops.” She laughed, giving you one last look before walking away.

Not missing a beat, Heather turned to you with a bewildered expression. “You know her name?”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s on her uniform.”

“Oh— right,” she murmured, the conversation quickly forgotten as they discussed their plans for the night: yet another kegger at the Harrington residence. It was something you definitely weren’t interested in attending.

Though they begged you to join them, you merely shrugged and told them to go without you. They didn’t even blink before heading off, their laughter fading as quickly as it started. But you soon found yourself lost in the chatter of the crowd and the roar of the umpire.

You decided to move up, leaning against the chain-link fence, pom-poms thrown to the dirt as you watched your girl stepping up to bat again. The score had been tied, this being Hawkins High’s last chance to win the game.

As always, Robin found you again. She gave you a wink before you heard the sharp crack of the bat. You gasped along with the crowd at the sight of the ball shooting through the sky and into the parking lot.

You couldn’t help the loud cheer erupting from your lips, clapping along with the crowd as she sprinted through each base with ease. And as she slid into home and was declared safe, her eyes met yours. They followed you as she picked herself up, sweat dripping as she removed her helmet. Shaking her dampened hair out with a wide grin.

There was no longer anything inside you that beckoned you to be malicious. You could feel a swell of pride inside you, wanting nothing more than to show her just how incredible she was. How much you cared about her…and you planned on it.

Her teammates were quick to surround her, lifting her up onto their shoulders as the crowd continued to cheer. Robin was clearly embarrassed by the sudden swarm of attention, her cheeks beautifully flushed as they carried her across the field. Soaking in the glory for a few more moments before they were called to line up, shaking hands with the opposing team.

But as everyone began to clear out, you noticed Beth Wildfire hanging back, laughing near the dugout with Robin. As you moved closer, you could make out the way Beth was checking out Robin’s ass as she bent over to grab her glove.

Robin lifted her head slightly, noticing you making your way over.

“Nice win, Buckley,” Beth said, popping in a piece of gum. “We should go out and celebrate.”

“Oh, yeah?” Robin asked, a devious smile on her lips as she rose. You couldn’t stop the jealousy beginning to surface. “You think we should invite the team?”

She was making you work for it, wasn’t she?

“Actually, I thought maybe you and I could—”

“Hey, Robin,” you said, directly in Beth’s line of sight now.

Beth gave you a look, clearly annoyed by your interruption.

Good.

“Hey,” Robin greeted. “What’s up?”

“You still need that ride?” you asked, clutching your pom poms tighter in your fists.

“I’d almost forgotten,” Robin replied smugly.

“Well, uh,” Beth said, taking a step closer to Robin. “I could always take her home after heading to Benny’s.”

“No, that’s alright,” you said curtly, faking a smile as you also took a step forward. “I think I’ve got it from here.”

You and Beth exchanged glances before her eyes widened, flickering between you and Robin who was only looking at you. Beth said nothing, opting instead to give you both a quick nod. But the clear disappointment on her face brought you more joy than you cared to admit.

“I’ll see you later, then,” she said. “Again, nice win, Buckley.”

Even as she walked away, Robin never broke eye contact. “Thanks, Beth,” she called out, a grin widening on her lips.

“Ready to go, mon chéri? I’m starving.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

And that’s how you ended up here, your legs draped over Robin’s shoulders as her tongue circles over your clit. One hand buried in her hair and the other clutching onto the chain link fence behind you. Her blue hues never leave your face, taking in each and every reaction she pulls from you.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re jealous.” She grins, flicking the tip of her tongue over your swollen clit. Enjoying the way your body twitches with every motion.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

You breathlessly try to deny it, but you both know you’re lying. Once again letting your pride get in the way, prompting Robin to remove her tongue from your center.

“No— Robbie, please,” you whine as she pulls away fully, resting her cheek against your inner thigh as she continues to slowly thrust her fingers inside you.

She revels in the way your walls grip tightly around the digits, almost as if you’re trying to keep them trapped inside. And as much as she loves feeling you, she loves making you beg even more.

So she slips her fingers out of your dripping cunt completely. Standing up to hover over you as she brings them to your lips.

“Please what, princess?” she taunts, her fingers now slipping into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly swirling around the digits until they’re devoid of any trace of you.

Robin removes them just as fast, trailing the saliva-coated digits down your jaw until they wrap around the base of your throat. “Answer me,” her harsh tone only further dampening the area between your thighs.

“Please don’t stop,” you plead without hesitation, rocking your hips up against her thigh. A look of desperation flitting across your features as you clutch onto her shoulders.

“Aww, you wanna cum, pretty thing?” Her tone is laced with condescension, finding yourself nodding almost frantically as you gaze up at her.

“I don’t know, baby… you were pretty mean earlier.” She paused, a small pout forming on your lips as she traced over them with her thumb. “You think you deserve it?”

You nod as if on instinct, whining as she pulls away from you completely. Rising to her feet once again, grabbing your hands and pulling you up off the bench. Your breasts press together as she whispers softly in your ear, “Prove it to me, then.”

You eagerly reach for the buttons on her uniform, tugging the zipper down. Impatiently yanking her pants down over the curve of her ass as you take back control.

“Sit,” you demand, resting your hands on her shoulders. Coaxing her to take your previous position on the worn bench.

“So bossy,” she teases, gripping your hips as you swing your leg over her thigh.

Taking a seat as you slip your fingers past the elastic of her underwear, moaning at the wetness you find there.

“This all for me?” you muse, your thumb brushing over her bundle of nerves with ease now. Having become quite familiar with every inch of her body over the last three months.

“I mean… Beth was looking good tonight—”

You cut her off with your mouth before she has a chance to finish her sentence. That surge of jealousy coursing through your veins as you kiss her deeply.

“She can’t have you,” you mumble against her mouth, before taking her lower lip between your teeth and tugging. “You're all mine.”

Robin curses softly as you begin to grind your hips against her thigh, slipping two fingers into her awaiting heat. Pumping them in tandem with each rock of your hips, as she mewls against your mouth.

“Please.” Now she's the one doing the begging, despite your hips continuing to grind down against her thigh. The mixture of her saliva and your juices making a mess on her bare skin.

You giggle softly as you increase the pressure on her clit with your thumb, burying your fingers deeper inside her. “Say it again.” She moans as you attach your lips to the base of her throat.

The blonde tilts her head back to expose more of her neck as you greedily suck on her flushed skin. A feeling of pride washes over you as you leave blotches of red and purple in your wake.

“You’re mine, Robin.” Your tone is overly possessive, enjoying how her body trembles beneath you. Your words being the thing to finally send her over the edge as she pulls your face back up to crash her lips against yours.

Her fingers dig harshly into the skin of your hips, encouraging you to keep grinding on her thigh. Lifting her leg to increase the pressure on your core. “That’s it… such a good girl.”

She pulls back slightly to watch you with hooded eyes, lips lifting in a genuine smile.

“My good girl.”

Her words elicit a bigger response than either of you expected, your thighs tightening around her own as you loudly cry out her name. Her hands continue to guide you along her thigh, working you through each wave of euphoria that crashes over you.

You’re both panting as you begin to come down from your highs, nuzzling your face in the crook of her neck. “Wow,” you breathe out, lightly tracing over the darkening love bites on her neck.

“Jeez, I think the whole town heard you,” Robin teases, running her fingers along your back.

“Well,” you start, pulling back to look at her. “I’m just trying to congratulate my girl on her big win.”

“Your girl?” she teases.

You bite your lip, trying to hide your smile. “Mhm.”

“Admit it,” Robin says, lifting her eyebrows, eyes tracing the lines of your face. “You were jealous.”

“Maybe I was,” you finally admit, earning an amused smile from her. “But I don’t think I have to worry about anyone else.”

“No?”

“Mm-mm.”

You press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth before standing, helping her to her feet. Leaning back against the fence as she wiggles her pants back up over her hips.

Robin is still fastening the buttons as you walk out onto the field. Her eyes follow your figure as you reach the pitcher's mound. A fond look falls over her features as your eyes flutter shut, letting the last glow of the setting sun soak into your pores.

Feeling the weight of her stare, you turn back around. Flashing her a beaming smile as she finally reaches you on the field.

“So… Benny’s?” you ask, twisting your skirt back into place. “I’m actually starving now.”

Robin looks at you in utter disbelief as she places her hat back on her head, the brim facing the opposite direction. “Wait, you’re serious? What if someone sees us together?”

You can’t stop the giggle that leaves you, now closing the few feet separating you from her. Cupping her face in between your palms as you press another kiss to her lips.

Right in the middle of the open field.

“I told you,” you say, louder this time. “Let them see us. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

You slip your hand into hers, lacing your fingers as you begin leading her towards your car. A sight to see, her bat and glove in her unoccupied hand. Your pom-poms in yours.

“You were still an asshole earlier, you know that?” Robin says.

As you share a laugh, you swing your intertwined hands back-and-forth. You’re practically skipping as you pull her along, light-hearted and winded.

“And you ruined my sneakers,” you counter. “Are you gonna clean them for me?”

“Only if you’re good, mon chéri.”

“I think I can manage that,” you reply as you venture further into the twilight. “At least for a little bit.”

tagging some moots 💕

@xxbimbobunnyxx @babygorewhore @impmunson @voyeurmunson @eddiesxangel @taintedcigs @strangerstilinski

#the freak writes 🫧#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley smut #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fic #softball player!robin buckley #robin buckley x cheerleader!reader

493 notes · View notes

somnambulic-thing · 7 months

Text

Shhh

Just thinking about Eddie coming home from a three cities in five days tour, his voice completely gone.

He looks miserable when he tries to say hello to you despite better knowledge and you flinch at the sound, hearing the pain in the scratch deep in his throat. You clasp a hand over his mouth, shutting him up before he can hurt himself more.

Good thing there's a full weekend before he has to go back to the workshop on Monday, where his day job is waiting for him.

You tuck him into bed, throw a sketchpad and a pen at him and try to turn to get some camomile tea brewing but he snatches the back of your shirt and pulls you in, tucks you against his chest and just holds you there.

It's a weird silence, you can feel the words rattling around in his chest cavity and you're impressed and proud at how much restraint he's showing.

When he lets you go reluctantly, you smother his face in kisses, assuring him you'll be right back. He grins, voices a scratchy hum and softly slaps your ass when you wiggle out the bed.

In the kitchen, you start to get busy finding everything that will help to restore his voice again as fast as possible. You had started to miss it in all its ever-changing variations when you had come home on Monday to an empty apartment to many small voids where Eddie's presence usually lingers in the things he cherishes the most, uses every day.

Clothes and books - he packed too little of one, too much of the other as always - an off-white spot in the shape of a guitar over the armchair that's the only void that won't stay empty in his absence. Not only because you like sitting in this spot, though usually got no chance to sit in here when Eddie is around, but because it smells of him, because you can sink into the impression his presence has left there over the years.

You only have dried sage right now but you'll get fresh one and some other things when he's settled and asleep which shouldn't take too long, judging by the soft purple half-moons under his eyes. He's not getting any younger and hoisting amps at two in the morning after a busy concert days leaves traces now.

Maybe he has already passed out, you think. You've been busy in the kitchen for more than five minutes and he hasn't sneaked up on you yet, impatiently wrapping his arms around you from behind, sinking his face into your shoulder.

But when you get back to the bedroom with a pot full of steaming hot camomile and sage tea and a jar of honey, he's still awake, frantically filling the sketch pad with his scratchy-elegant handwriting.

He looks up when he hears you enter and makes a small, high pitched noise in his chest, his smile a soft curve of gratitude and admiration.

He pulls you back into the bed with him, pulls your legs into his lap and puts an obscene amount of honey into his first cup of tea. You chuckle and make a stupid joke about bees or something when your eyes start to move over the first page of five he had filled in your absence. You don't finish the joke, the thought fading as you fall into the report of his days away.

It's a ritual that you're fond of. It bridges the gap that had opened when you stopped dragging yourself to every gig just for the sake of it. You didn't miss the stress and the claustrophobic haze of it all - after all, you're not getting any younger either - but you missed his euphoria, missed to share his joy and whatever else got his blood pumping fast and hot and wild.

You read it all out loud, commenting in between, forming your inquisitive thoughts into yes or no questions, chuckling, marvelling, ranting, all while Eddie drinks his too-sweet tea in small sips and enlivens your narration with his facial expressions and small grunting noises.

You try not to laugh too hard, for it always makes him laugh as well and you think he knows you're holding back if the way he keeps kissing the corners of your tightly sealed lips is anything to go by. Like small thank you's because you caring for him when he's unwell still blows him away a little, even after all this time.

"You tired?" you ask, when the written report ends mid-sentence and you look up to find Eddie nodding off with his head rolling against the wall. He cracks open one eye, shakes his head, shakes himself awake and no to your question, a hand reaching out to the sketchpad in your lap.

"You can finish that later, Ed." You pluck the cup from his other hand before he can spill whats left in there over the sheets. "You look like shit."

He snorts a laugh, then coughs.

"Shit, sorry."

"S'ok-ay--" he croaks, using his vocal cords out of habit and coughs some more.

"Shhh," you say and start rubbing soothing circles into his back for as long as it takes for the dry, sore heaving to subside again.

"Okay, now you sleep. I'm going out to get some th--"

A hand over your mouth shuts you up. He's shaking his head, fumbling the notepad out of your lap at last with the other one.

Don't want you to leave. Take a nap with me?

"I won't be long, I join you when I get back."

He shakes his head again.

Please?

You barely have time to look at the word when he starts manhandling you up the bed and pulls you down with him, burying his face in your chest.

"Alright," you say, weaving your fingers into his hair while something more than his breath starts to spread warmth through your ribcage. "Alright, I stay."

You feel his muscles relax, his breath even out. Seconds later, he's asleep.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #blurb or whatever #I wrote something after weeks #everybody say 'yay somna'

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fictionalwh0ree · 3 months

Text

4+1 - dean winchester

summary: four times you and dean almost got caught together and the one time you actually got caught. word count: 3.5k warning: swearing, meantions of sex

you and dean had an agreement. strictly friends with benefits. a person to fuck on the road. thats all you’d wanted at first, and you’d both agreed with it. you’d quickly come up with a system, one that was functioning well for the first year, but as you felt more comfortable with it, the closer you’d gotten to slipping up. of course, sam had no idea, and it was going to stay that way.

on your hunts, you always had a separate motel room, sometimes adjoining, but always next to each other. once sam had gotten over his nightmares, he became a heavy sleeper. he was also an early riser, which meant he was usually in bed before dean. so when sam was fast asleep, dean would set up his pillows to look like he was there and would sneak next door, giving you a special knock. you’d put pillows between the headboard and the wall so there wouldn’t be any noise and you’d fuck before dean would retreat back to his room. you went through the motions over and over, satisfied with the outcome.

one specific night, you’d finished slaying a vampire nest before going out for a couple drinks to celebrate. sam was knocked out within twenty minutes of getting back. you yourself were exhausted, almost falling asleep in your bed as you waited for dean. just as your eyes shut, you heard the knocking at the door. you got up, stumbling on your feet, the alcohol still in your system. you would be the first to admit that you’d drank a little more than you were used to that night.

“y/n,” you heard the whispered voice on the other side of the door.

odd, you thought. dean never did that.

you opened the door, finding dean swaying back and forth with a large smile on his face.

“dean, are you drunk?” you laughed, pulling him inside.

“they have the tiny bottles in the mini fridge,” he beamed.

you shut the door behind you and when you turned around, dean was already shirtless. he kissed you quick, you could taste the whiskey on his lips, just like he could taste the vodka on yours. things got heated, the night ending the way it had many times before, but this time was different. once dean had pulled out, he flopped down onto the bed beside you. you waited a couple minutes, turning over in bed to face away from dean. soon enough, you felt him flip over too, before wrapping his arm around your middle and pulling you closer.

“dean,” you said.

“hm?” he mumbled.

“you have to go back. you know the system,” you said.

“shhh. just a couple minutes then i’ll go,” he mumbled.

“only a couple minutes,” you warned as you snuggled into his hold.

it didn’t take long before the two of you were completely passed out, forgetting about what you’d said. you only awoke the next morning when you heard some knocking on your door. you opened your eyes slowly, feeling deans arm around you. you sat up, shaking the boy who hadn’t so much as stirred at the sound.

“dean,” you whispered aggressively, “dean.”

“huh?” he said as he woke up, confused as ever.

“y/n, are you there?” you heard sams voice on the other side of the door.

“yeah, one second!” you called out.

“go hide in the washroom,” you told dean.

“what time is it?” he asked, still confused.

“6 in the morning,” you said, rushing him to the washroom.

“that kids such a freak,” dean said, rubbing his eyes.

you threw his clothes at him and he grabbed them before going in and shutting the door. you threw on a tshirt of your own and underwear before going to the door and opening just enough to get your head through.

“hi sam,” you said, fake yawning.

“hi, i hate to wake you but have you seen dean at all? he’s not in bed or the washroom,” sam said, concerned.

“dean? no. why would i have seen him?” you laughed awkwardly. you really hated how you were an awful liar.

“i- i don’t know. thats why i’m asking,” he said, confused.

“maybe he went for pie, you know how that fatass loves his pie,” you joked.

“right,” sam said, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips before continuing.

“y/n is there someone else in there?” he asked.

“ummmm,” you thought for a second.

“yes, from the bar last night. i called him. he- he’s just in the washroom right now,” you smiled slightly.

“okay, sorry to bother you,” he said before turning around.

“sam,” you called out, causing him to turn, “your brother can hold his own, you know that. if he’s not back by 8 we’ll go looking for him, okay?”

“okay, thanks,” sam said, smiling genuinely before walking back to his room.

you shut the door, letting out a sigh of relief. dean carefully opened the door, peeking his head out. he gave you a sheepish smile as he stepped out.

“no more sleepovers.”

being a hunter had many downsides, but one of the worst was how you could go from being somewhere where you’d freeze without a sweater at night to somewhere where you practically had to sleep naked to keep cool in the span of a couple days. your last case had been up in some town in the mountains in montana, where even in mid july, the days were only ever warm. for the first couple days, you’d had few leads, not even knowing what creature you were hunting, only knowing something was up. this meant the three of you were split up. sam spent most of the day back at the motel doing research while you and dean were out talking to people and gathering information.

of course, being alone with dean meant research wasn’t all you were doing. one particular day, you’d been told that a person of interest in your case frequented a dingy little bar. you decided you’d have a little stakeout, parking outside it before realizing that the place only opened in an hour. so with nothing else to do and an empty parking lot, you knew what was coming. it wasn’t long before you were straddling deans lap. as the kisses got more heated, dean pulled your sweater off, kissing down your neck and moving down to your chest. he planted a couple hickeys right on your boobs. before it could go any further, you spotted who you were looking for walking into the bar and had to go back to work. you’d basically forgotten about the hickeys seeing as you would be living in long sleeves and sweaters for a while.

however, in an unexpected turn, you’d found the information you needed and were able to take down a demon that’d been plaguing the town within the next day. sam quickly found a possible case and you were in the car before nightfall.

that’s how you’d ended up in arizona. the sun was blistering all the time and the night brought no relief. when you’d gotten to your motel room, you sifted through your bag, searching for any top that would cover the pronounced hickeys on your chest, but nothing worked. the next morning, you stepped out ready to work in some ugly bleach stained tshirt, which was all you could find. when sam and dean saw you outside the room, they gave you an odd look.

“y/n, are you sure you wanna wear that?” sam asked.

“uh, yeah. whats wrong with it?” you asked, laughing nervously.

“well, we’re supposed to be county police, and that outfit doesn’t exactly scream police,” he said.

“yeah, i’m with sam on this one,” dean agreed.

you forced a smile as you looked at dean, mad that he had put you in this position.

“you’re right. i’ll change. i’ll meet you guys in the car,” you said.

you threw on a tank top, one that covered all but one very purple hickey. on top of that, you wore a thin long sleeve. you got in the backseat of the car and dean started to drive. sam looked back at you, the same puzzled expression from earlier on his face.

“y/n, it’s almost 100°?” sam said.

“i’m feeling a little cold today,” you lied.

“are you catching something? are you sure you don’t wanna stay back?” sam asked, reaching out to feel your forehead.

“i’m fine sam,” you said as you smacked his hand away.

when you arrived at the victims house, you stepped out of the car. the three of you spoke to each other, standing just by the hood of the car, as you discussed facts. within the two minutes you were outside, you had already begun to sweat in the sweltering heat. you couldn’t take it anymore. you walked away and pulled off your long sleeve, throwing it into the backseat. you walked back to the brothers who were standing side by side. they stopped their conversation as you tugged at your top, trying to move it to cover what you knew they were staring at.

“y/n, what is that?” sam said, eyes darting between your chest and face.

“what’s what?” you said, not able to meet his eyes.

“that,” he said, pointing at it.

“oh, this?” you said, looking down at it while sam nodded, “it must be a bruise from that demon bitch. can’t even feel it.”

“uh huh,” sam said, seemingly unconvinced, but he didn’t care more to ask.

he dropped the subject and began to walk towards the house. dean hung back, a stupid smirk on his face.

“nice ‘bruise’ sweetheart,” dean said.

“shut up.”

your hunt had almost been jeopardized because of dean, meaning he was confined to his car. dean’s fake identity had fallen through with your main witness, so sam took it upon himself to get information out of him with bobby. the guy, who was a major asshole, also had little respect for women. he’d thrown one too many weird comments your way and couldn’t seem to take you seriously, which meant you were also confined to dean’s car. sam and bobby went into the pub the man frequented, ready to sit and have dinner with him. he was bound to be inside for an hour or two, but dean refused to go anywhere else, wanting to make sure his baby brother would be okay.

that didn’t mean you couldn’t have any fun, though. dean got into the backseat with you, and with rock music playing in the background, the two of you started making out like a couple high schoolers. the night was pitch black, no moon out, you knew it would be hard for anyone to see the two of you. for about thirty minutes, you made out, deans hands under your shirt fondling your breasts while your hands ran up and down his toned torso. dean pushed you back gently so you were laying down. he began to kiss your jawline, moving down to your neck. his hands moved till they were at the bottom of your skirt. he pushed it up. as he tried to blindly push your underwear to the side, you worked at his belt.

just as dean unzipped his pants, you heard a noise outside. bobby and sam were talking just outside the car. you and dean jumped apart when you realized, you quickly threw your ring under the car seat as dean did his belt back up. you fixed your skirt and got on your knees on the car floor just as sam opened the door.

“what’re you two doing?” bobby asked.

“i dropped my ring,” you said quickly.

“oh look, found it,” dean said, smiling as he handed it to you.

“anyway, what’re you two doing back so soon?” you asked.

“he didn’t show,” sam said, a suspicious look on his face as he stared at the two of you.

“what?” dean said.

“yeah. weird, i know,” sam responded.

bobby’s eyes flickered between the two of you with his eyes narrowed. his attention only diverted by sam hitting his arm gently.

“bobby, bobby,” sam called, “there he is.”

“shit, okay. see you guys later,” bobby said.

he gave the two of you one last knowing look before shutting the car door.

“that was a close one,” dean said, breathing a sigh of relief.

you really wished things were different. you prayed that the feelings would go away, but it was only bound to happen. you and dean had been hooking up for over a year and you’d been harbouring feelings for at least six months. you learnt how to suppress it, knew how to hide it from everyone. that is, until you got jealous. you were close to wrapping up a hunt and had stopped at a bar in the evening. it wasn’t unusual to see other girls hitting on dean, i mean, look at him. you tried to get used to it and usually you did a good job of being nonchalant, but for whatever reason, you were having a really hard time that evening. maybe because your period was coming up, and it was making you see yourself different all while messing with your emotions. maybe you felt especially jealous because you thought the girl dean had his arm around was gorgeous, and was everything you wanted to be but couldn’t. your eye twitched as you watched him laughing with her. you were practically fuming, until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“that an ex?”

you turned your head to find a ruggedly attractive man smiling while looking in deans direction.

“something like that,” you said back, turning your attention to him.

“jonah,” the guy introduced himself, reaching his hand out.

“y/n,” you said, shaking it.

“well, y/n, that right there is my ex girlfriend. what do you say we make them a little jealous,” he said, pointing at some girl who was sitting at the bar by herself.

“sure,” you smiled.

“let me buy you a drink?” he asked.

you nodded your head, following him to the bar. as you talked and laughed, you could feel deans eyes on you. jonah, who was sitting with his back facing his girlfriend and facing dean, would let you know if dean glanced your way, you doing the same for him. the guy was nice, he threw a couple flirty comments your way, but knew what was too much. you hit it off, having endless conversations. once enough alcohol had flowed, you were feeling tipsy, and when they played your song, you couldn’t help but drag jonah to the dance floor. you faced away from him, your ass rubbing up near his crotch as you swayed with the music, drink in hand. you were having such a good time, you’d barely even noticed deans death stare. before long, you felt another tap on your shoulder. you turned to face dean, an angry look on his face contrasting the satisfied look on the girl from earlier’s face.

“listen, you and sam are gonna have to find your own way home. i’m leaving,” he said.

“well, dean, sam might have to find a way home on his own, which i’m sure won’t be a problem since he’s so used to it,” you said through a fake smile.

“whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“hey man, do we have a problem here?” jonah asked.

“no man, she’s all yours,” dean said before turning around.

unbeknownst to either of you, sam was sitting at the bar and he had overheard the whole ordeal. he got out of his seat, following dean and grabbing his wrist before he could walk out of the door.

“dude, what was that about?” sam asked.

“nothing, dude just gives me bad vibes,” dean said before walking out.

+ 1

the previous night at the bar had been something else, something you’d never expected. the three of you wrapped up the case quick, but tension was high, it was obvious. sam barely spoke a word but you could feel his discomfort. you and dean were angry. dean hadn’t said anything to you and you noticed how his jaw clenched and unclenched as he drove. you were sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed looking out the window. the sun was setting already and you were set to leave missouri the next morning, but sam really wasn’t looking forward to a car ride with the two of you guys like this. so, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“so, do you guys wanna go for a drink? to celebrate?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“no,” was all you said.

“can’t, taking that chick from last night out for dinner,” dean said.

“have fun,” you said sourly, your eye twitching.

“i will,” dean said firmly.

that didn’t help, sam thought to himself.

you arrived to the motel and you went straight to your room, while dean just dropped you guys off before taking off himself. you sat in your room, packing angrily while muttering to yourself. once you were all packed up, you waited for sam to finish in the shower of the joined bathroom before you hopped in yourself. you used it to unwind a little, and felt a lot less tense once you’d come out. you put on a tank top with some pyjama shorts and were just about to sit down to watch tv when you heard a knock on the door. you looked through the peephole, only to see dean standing outside with a tub of ice cream. you opened the door with an angry look on your face.

“your date bail on you?” you asked with your hands on your hips.

“its a peace offering,” he said, handing you the ice cream.

you took it and put it in the mini fridge. dean was right behind you, trailing you around the room.

“what do you want dean?” you asked as you turned on the tv, not bothering to look in his direction.

“the usual?” he said carefully.

“are you serious?” you scoffed.

dean stayed quiet as he stared at you.

“do you seriously think i’m gonna fuck you?” you laughed angrily.

“well, i-” dean started.

“are you trying to give me an std or are you just stupid? you were with a different girl last night,” you said meeting dean’s eyes.

“i didn’t sleep with her,” dean confessed.

“wow, didn’t think i’d live to see the day where dean winchester lies about not sleeping with a girl,” you sassed.

“i’m not lying to you,” he said.

“right, so you didn’t sleep with her last night so you took her out to finish the job tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows with a sarcastic smile.

“no, i was with her for like half an hour before i left,” he admitted, getting angry himself.

“why? she talk too much for you? didn’t get straight to it?” you smirked.

“no, goddamnit y/n,” dean yelled, catching you off guard yourself.

“then what, dean, what? what am i not getting here?” you yelled back.

“is that really what you think of me?” he shouted.

“i don’t know what to think about you anymore,” you shouted back.

“you wanna know the truth y/n? really?” he yelled.

“yes dean, enlighten me please,” you yelled.

“i didn’t stay because she wasn’t you. i didn’t sleep with her because she wasn’t you,” he shouted.

you went quiet, not knowing what to say to him.

“look, last night was wrong of me. i shouldn’t have done that, but seeing you with that guy, i just got so angry,” dean admitted.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you like me, winchester,” you said, getting closer to him.

“shut up,” he said as he planted a kiss on your lips.

“say it,” you coaxed.

“well, i guess i was thinking maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if, you know, you and i were a thing,” he said, unable to meet your eyes, a blush covering his cheeks.

“thats funny because i’ve been thinking the same thing,” you smiled up at him, his green eyes twinkling as he looked down at you.

he closed the gap between your lips, kissing you gently. you smiled into it, and so did he, only interrupted by someone clearing their throat. you split up, turning to see sam standing in the bathroom doorway.

“door was open,” he said, a half smile on his lips as he looked between the two of you.

“oh,” dean laughed.

you hid your face in deans chest, your cheeks were burning up.

“i’m gonna head out for a minute, give you two some time alone. the walls are thin,” he said as he walked away.

“congrats, about time,” he shouted before he shut his bathroom door.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural #supernatural imagine #dean winchester imagine

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