english is not my first language, please be kind and patient while correcting me ♡
I love csm aot jjk haikyuu and a lot of shoujosei stuff
my favorite character is Aki hayakawa i'll probably be talking about him a LOT
i love childhood best friends to lovers so much so i'll use this trope all the time!
I'm a victim of rape, so i might use fictional characters to cope with my trauma which means i might interact with dark content blogs sometimes and/or write dark content myself. please keep it in mind that this blog is my safe space and Im only trying to cope.
OR dean winchester needs a damn hug! specifically from me, so of course i wrote about it! pretty much based off of my own headcanon that i wrote because this dean is canon— TO ME!
my masterlist
read part 2 here!
「 pairing 」 : touch starved ! dean x fem ! reader
「 word count 」 : 6.1 k (would y’all believe me when i say this started out as a drabble… faith be normal over dean winchester challenge level: IMPOSSIBLE!)
「 content / warnings 」 : late seasons soft!dean, vulnerability to da max, emotions, emotions, EMOTIONS. no smut (for once!), starts off kinda sad BUT HAS A HAPPY(ISH) ENDING I SWEAR! PLEASE PLEASE DON’T KILL ME
you have one ( 1 ) new message from the author ! ↓
AFTER CENTURIES IT’S FINALLY DONE! just saying once again thank you all so very much for 400 (+87 ?!?!?) followers! this fic is my gift to you! can’t believe over 400 of you want to see my bullshit (and unabashed horniness) on the daily but i love and appreciate every single one of ya! shoutout to my lovely mooties as well!
looking for new work from me? check out @bejeweledinterludes2, my new writing account!
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dean winchester knew he had something called a touch problem.
and he didn’t know exactly when it started, but after years and years of the only touch he received being hits, punches, the cold feel of steel from a knife or the heat from the barrel of a gun—he craved something gentle.
he needed it.
and goddamn, he was getting desperate.
at first, he usually just sought it out with one-night stands. whether it be holding their hand during it, or sticking around for longer just to lay in bed with whoever the fuck he’d met that night— that kept him at bay. that’s how he got the touch he needed.
but then he got greedy.
it had been a particularly rough hunt. you, dean, and sam were lucky to get out alive. you’d pulled into a town that had a vamp nest terrorizing its inhabitants, and when you saw the familiar hot faces of the winchester brothers at the only decent bar in a 30-mile radius, you’d decided to work together— as you’d all done a million times before.
but still, it was rough. you three each took a floor of the abandoned farmhouse— you on the highest, dean in the middle, and sam on the ground floor. you clambered down the stairs after you had finished clearing your floor, only to be met with two snarling vampires— which you quickly ganked with a schwing of your machete.
after verifying that no threats were coming your way, you started looking for dean— and the panic that flooded through your chest when you saw him crumpled over on the floor in one of the rooms almost made you freeze.
almost.
years of experience and split-second decisions snapped you out of it, immediately falling to your knees by dean’s side, turning him over on his back.
your hands were gentle but swift as you quickly flipped out the sides of his jacket, making sure there were no large gashes or wounds— and the sigh with the feeling of pure relief you let out when you realized he was just knocked out was a little more intense than you had expected it to be.
and you told yourself that was definitely normal.
right?
right.
“dean,” your hand had gone to the side of dean’s face, the other remaining on his shoulder as you shook it gently, trying not to startle him completely as you masked your worry. “come on ya lug, rise ‘n shine.”
despite your efforts, dean still woke with a start— but you caught his arm with the hand not on his face before he could do anything.
“hey— hey,” your voice was quieter, softer. because despite being one bad mother when you were hunting, your soft side came out frequently when it was needed, without fear of judgment and with absolutely no shame. it was one of the things dean wished he could do as seamlessly as you. “it’s jus’ me, alright? come on—”
you then proceeded to stand all six feet and some change of dean up with you, keeping a hand on his back and shoulders and giving him another once over when he stood over you again.
“you all good?” you murmur quietly, your hands resting on the sides of dean’s arms as you stood back, your eyes continuing to rake over him for a moment before looking up at his face— and the expression you were met with wasn’t anger, or even frustration from being knocked out.
no.
dean looked almost… sad.
you’d never been exactly ‘close’ with dean. of course you considered him a friend— for years now, but in all honesty, even that was a stretch sometimes, too. because he was a very closed off and mistrusting person.
but hell, you respected that. especially in this line of work. he did talk to you once in a while, though— on those lulls during a hunt or a case, or when he dropped some crazy lore about himself or his childhood, then going right back to his usual behaviors afterwards.
that being said, you knew dean better than he thought you did— because he didn’t have to say much for you to know what he was going through. despite what he thought, his emotions were always kinda just… written on his face.
but now, back to the farmhouse. back to the look dean had on his face right now. it was a look you saw only after he had consumed enough alcohol to kill a baby elephant, which is why it threw you off and made your usual easygoing attitude with him falter.
“dean,” you voice had gotten quieter, even softer, “w—” but before you could say or even do anything else, sam called from the floor below that it was all clear, snapping dean out of it, his expression hardening again.
in the days coming after, you didn’t ask dean to explain himself, or push about what had happened that night. you knew if he wanted to, he’d come to you about it— maybe not right away, but when he was ready.
little did you know how soon that would be.
you’d been living in the bunker for probably only a couple months at this point after the apocalypse world had opened up, and a bunch of hunters were living in the bunker too— but less than a week later after the vamp nest, both sam and dean embarked on solo hunts, sam in maine, dean in nevada. both brothers had warned you not to ‘burn the joint down’.
come on. like you would ever do that— on accident. besides, you had the bunker all to yourself.
which was fun—
for all of five minutes.
now, almost six days after sam and dean had left, you’re sitting in the library, surrounded by a scattered array of books, papers, and weapons alike on the tables in front of you— another late night of research and catching up on lore.
because there was always lore to catch up on.
you’d been lost in the words in front of you when you heard the unmistakable noise of the bunker’s door creaking open. you stiffened slightly, instincts on alert, lifting your gaze from where you were standing— but relaxed and went back to scanning the page when you realized it was just dean.
because here’s the thing: over the years, you’ve realized that it’s not a good idea to talk to dean after he’s fresh off a hunt— and especially knowing that he’s probably just drove almost or even over 24 hours straight to come home?
yeah. no way were you about to be running up to dean as he trudged down the stairs, doting on him. to your knowledge, he hated touching people, especially other people touching him.
besides, usually after a hunt, dean would just go to his room, the infirmary, or immediately hit the showers— and not look once in your direction while he did it, much less talk to you.
it hurt, but you understood that the reason he does it wasn’t exactly anything you were doing wrong— it was just what dean did.
but tonight was different.
dean was on his way to his bedroom (or actually, maybe the infirmary might be better so he could patch himself up)—
but then he saw you.
you were still stood at one of the tables, eyes scanning through books of lore you dug up from the bookshelves, illuminated by the golden lamps lining the wooden tables. god, you were pretty. even though you weren’t looking at him, he didn’t blame you. he wasn’t exactly the most cheerful after a hunt.
especially this one.
and because of that, dean’s feet were moving before he could even think twice about what he was doing.
you’d glanced up from the book you’d been completely engulfed in— and was a little surprised to find dean looking right back at you as he walked up the few steps to the library.
you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could even register what was happening, dean had already made it to you— and without warning, wrapped you in a tight embrace, slamming against you and holding you like you were the only thing that would keep him upright.
your eyes widen slightly at the feeling of dean’s arms around you before you could register the fact that he’d even crossed the threshold of the bunker— a little ‘oof’ sound escapes you completely involuntarily.
“hey,” dean let out a shaky breath against some strands of your hair and shoulder, his voice slightly raspy with…was that relief?
despite how caught off-guard you were, you don’t reject dean’s unexpected hug, though. you let your body adjust to him and your arms wrap around him too, returning the gesture right back. the faint smell of baby’s exhaust, something earthy along with the familiar scent of dean fills your lungs as your fingers ever so slightly grasp onto the back of his jacket, keeping him against you.
the muscles in dean’s shoulders relax the second your arms gently wrap around him. and oh god, he just really missed you—
“hi,” your voice is just as quiet when you greet dean in return, chin resting on his own shoulder. “how did it—”
you’re trying to ask how his hunt went, but before you finish, dean’s pulling you closer to him and squeezing the words from you. his hands slip more around your waist to hold you against him tighter, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. he just wants to feel you. you’re so warm, so soft— and goddamn, you smelled good, too. you always did. it was a little infuriating, actually.
dean knows he should probably let go, or at least respond, but he can’t find it in himself to let go yet— so instead he just holds onto you tighter. he still doesn’t respond to your unsaid question, simply standing there, holding onto you like a drowning man clinging to a lifeline.
you assumed something had happened on his hunt for dean to be acting this way— but you don’t press or force him to tell you what. you just wanted to be there for him right now.
“oh,” is what you end up softly replying with a little nod of your head against dean when he simply doesn’t answer your unfinished question. but you don’t let him go. hell no. you just pat your hand on the back of one of his shoulders, tightening your own grip on him in return. “sorry, de.”
and dean lets out a slow breath of… was that relief at your voice, at the nickname you’d had for him since the second (or was it third) hunt you’d ever worked on together? who the hell knows. he’s just so thankful you’re here, you’re hugging him, not pushing him away, you’re holding him— that you’re so close.
“no, it’s okay,” dean’s unusually soft voice, barely above a whisper, cuts through the silence.
“it— it was rough, that’s all," he mutters after a even longer while, his words tinged with a mixture of fatigue and… something else that you can't quite place.
you and dean were so close and pressed together with your combined tight grips— so much so that you swore you could almost feel his heartbeat. but it wasn’t uncomfortable. and it didn’t feel awkward. it never seemed to be with him. besides, by his (few) words, you could tell he needed this a lot more than he was letting on.
in all honesty, you were just glad dean was finally letting himself seek comfort for once in his goddamn life—
in you.
“yeah, i get it,” is what you reply with, just nodding against dean’s shoulder while tightening your own grip on him. without really thinking about it, you start to gently run one of your hands up and down his back while still wrapped up in him, palm and fingers trailing on the material of his jacket. “just glad you’re back.”
you can feel dean’s breath hitch at your touch— and for a moment, you hesitate your motions of your hand tracing along his jacket, but his grip on you unconsciously tightened, like he was clinging to you. so you continue doing it after that.
“yeah,” he murmurs, a faint huff of something like a laugh escaping him. “me too.”
and for a long while, dean just stands there wrapped up in you, his face still buried in your hair and part of your shoulder as he lets himself lean into that touch, absorbing its comfort. he grips onto the back of your shirt— and he could feel the tension start to melt away, the warmth mixed with the scent of you filling his senses and working magic on him.
dean stays quiet for several more moments, his face still buried deep in your shoulder, as if he was trying to hide himself from the outside world. his grip on you doesn’t loosen as he stands there, his body against yours. every breath he takes is deep, steady— like he’s grounding himself in this moment with you.
his words break the silence as a whisper against you after a while, the vulnerability clear in his low voice, his words almost like a confession.
“i… missed you.”
a small exhale you didn’t know you were holding releases when dean says that— and your hand falters. dean winchester, king of bottling up feelings and keeping them to himself just said he missed you. this was completely different than how he usually acted around you, but you didn’t mind.
“i missed you, too,” your own voice also quiet when you respond. it was only a few words, but you had understood what dean meant— in more ways than most would. which is why you don’t even attempt to tease him about it, replying with something between a sigh and a laugh at the realization. “like, a lot.”
dean’s grip tightens even further at your response, as if your words had a more profound impact on him than you could've ever imagined. he pulls you closer against him, the hardness of his body against yours should’ve been more uncomfortable, but it wasn’t.
there’s a moment of silence as dean just holds you, face still hidden, his chest rising and falling right against yours. each breath he takes is deeper, almost shaky, and for a moment, you can feel the slightest tremble in his grip.
his voice are soft, vulnerable in a way you’ve rarely seen from him. like he almost didn’t believe you.
“really?”
and you don’t falter your own grip for one second, despite the fact that this was completely out of character for him. you return the action, tightening your arms around dean before resuming running your hand up and down his back.
“yeah, really,” you nod against dean to confirm, letting out a soft exhale into his jacket. “i dunno, it was just… quiet here without you guys. always is.”
your words seem to soothe him— almost as much as your touch, your hug does. despite being strong both physically and mentally, dean seems to need this— and he doesn’t even really know why. he relaxes even more at your words, his body slumping against yours. it’s almost like he’s seeking every bit of comfort and warmth he can get from this— from you.
dean lets out a small, soft scoff, tinged with weary amusement. “yeah, i bet it was,” he murmurs, voice muffled against your . “must’a been like a vacation for you, huh?” there's a note of sarcasm there, like he’s trying to mask the intensity of the moment with something familiar— like he always did.
and you could have played along with dean’s attempt at lightheartedness— but honestly, you were too tired to make that effort right now. so you just shake your head a little against dean, voice much quieter than before.
“first day was nice,” you admit to dean, hands grasping the back of his jacket to keep him close to you before you close your eyes. “the rest were just…”
there’s a beat of silence as you trail off, and dean’s grip on you— if possible, tightens even further at your unfinished sentence, as if he was hanging on your every word, waiting for what you were going to say.
he lets out a small, soft breath, warm against your hair. “just... what?” he asks, his voice just as low as yours. there’s a hint of subtle unease at what you were going to say.
your arms don’t loosen when you feel dean’s grip grow just that much tighter— but you weren’t about to complain. you don’t answer right away, because the rest of your sentence was almost too embarrassing to admit.
but then again, you remind yourself: this was dean who you were talking to. he didn’t judge you for a lot of things you had once assumed he would judge you for. so you just huff out a quiet laugh into his shoulder that wasn’t really one at all— containing no humor and mostly self-deprecation.
“lonely.”
your admission hangs there between you both. it’s a simple word, but it hits dean harder than any blow he’s ever taken in a fight. because you get it. there’s a hitch in his breathing— the kind that gives away more than mere words ever could. he goes still for a moment, just letting your confession sink in, the quiet of the bunker feeling even more pronounced in that moment.
“yeah,” dean finally breaks the silence with a soft exhale against you, pulling you even tighter against him. “me, too.”
you relax a little after dean says that. it meant more than he knew. you weren’t sure how to explain it, but it felt like you and him… kind of supported each other, in a way. like the burdens you both carried separately, your own issues that you had, they seemed to be less overwhelming whenever you were even near each other. even if you and him didn’t actually know each other’s burdens.
there’s always been an understanding between you, a silent knowledge that sometimes words didn’t need to be said for the other to know what that person is thinking.
the atmosphere in the room feels different now, the silence less heavy than it was before, but the intensity and weight of the moment still weighs heavily in the air between you. it must be an interesting sight from the outside looking in— a six-foot hunter clinging onto you like you were the last thing on earth. but you didn’t mind. hell, it was comfortable.
dean’s grip on you remains just as tight— almost like he’s afraid to let go, afraid that you’ll slip away like some dream he only has once in a great while. he takes a deep breath, chest rising against you as he inhales, then exhales slowly. before he’d realized it, his fingers absentmindedly fiddle with a strand of your hair.
this level of closeness between you two was unfamiliar. of course, you’d hugged each other before and spent numerous times in close proximity—whether it be in the backseat of the impala when sam had to drive that one time or when you had to hide in a not-so-big broom closet from a wraith.
but this... this was different.
and you knew the uncomfortableness of seeking comfort better than most— but somehow, you never had an issue when you were the one who was comforting others. but still, this was new territory. you certainly hadn’t expected dean to hug you for this long tonight. truth was, you didn’t really didn’t want to let go. but you couldn’t say that to him. that would be too weird.
the library is silent, only the soft tick-tock of the old clock on the wall filling the air. there’s a vulnerability, an understanding greater than words in this moment that neither of you are used to— but strangely enough, it's also the most comfortable you’ve both felt in a long time.
and then, dean breaks the silence again— his voice so low, so quiet, that you almost miss it.
“don’t wanna let go.”
your gaze softens when dean says that— but you don’t loosen your grip on him. you weren’t sure exactly why he was so adamant on not letting go, or why he’d been hugging you like you’d almost died. but you don’t ask questions.
besides, dean’s been more vulnerable with you tonight than i’d ever seen or heard in all the years you’d known him. and when he admitted that? you knew you had to be there for him, in whatever way he wanted. so when you reply back, your words are just as quiet as his.
“well, you don’t have to.”
the words feel like a weight being lifted off dean’s shoulders. he clings to you even tighter, burying his face even deeper into your shoulder, like he was ashamed. he doesn’t say anything for a moment— instead, just taking deep breaths. because he’s struggling to keep his emotions intact.
finally, he mumbles into you again, his words muffled by your shirt.
“you promise?”
“yeah,” you echo back quietly, nodding your head against dean’s buried into you. “promise. we can stay like this as long as you want to.”
there’s no malice hidden in your words, or any hint of teasing— because it was nothing but the truth. you’d stay with dean for as long as he wanted you to. and you bury your face a little more into him when he does the same to your shoulder.
there’s another long moment of silence as dean holds onto you, his face still buried in your shoulder. normally, he’d be making some smartass comment by now, acting like his usual self— but he can't seem to find the words. or the energy.
dean huffs softly against your shoulder after a moment— the closest thing to one of his usual snarky remarks. but there’s a hint of hesitation in his voice when he speaks.
“what if i wanted to… all night?”
you’d half been expecting dean to brush off your words with a joke or at least something, but the tone of hesitation told you that he was being anything but that. you hesitate, but ultimately lift your head off of his shoulder— you don’t pull away fully, though.
and dean’s body visibly tenses when you pause and pull away slightly to look at him, and he’s almost immediately on the defensive— but relaxes a little when you don’t go far.
your gaze silently searches dean’s as you scrunch your eyebrows slightly. you knew that what he’d just asked you for was… different. and you didn’t have to ask him for clarification. you knew what he meant, why he was so hesitant. because this wasn’t going to be just hugging him anymore.
this would be all night.
and there’s a vulnerable look in his eyes when he lets his guard down just enough as you let your gaze linger on him. dean almost looks like a wounded dog right now, the exhaustion, the weariness making him drop his typical persona in favor of honesty— maybe even desperation, just this once.
from that look on dean’s face, he was not kidding about what he asked. the expression he had was one you hadn’t seen this intensely in a long time. you knew he wasn’t one to just ask something like this, either. not unless he needed it.
the thought of being so close to dean all night makes you a little nervous, but not as much to outright say no. so keeping his gaze, your voice is just as quiet as his was when you nod, breaking the silence of the library once again.
“then i’d say ‘get your pj’s on’.”
the way dean’s body relaxes in relief at your words is almost overwhelming. he’s still staring right into your eyes, the vulnerability almost raw. he manages to nod, searching your gaze. he’d been expecting a boatload of teasing with a side of humiliation— but he’d been proved wrong.
“yeah?” he almost whispers as he holds your gaze, eyes searching yours like he’s trying to read your mind. like he’s unable to determine if this is real. if you’re real.
“yeah,” you nod in return, a pang of warmth hitting you again as you look at dean right back. you’re both still standing so close together— and the air felt different, thicker when you take another breath. “s’long as you don’t kick me.”
dean appreciated the break in seriousness, more than you would ever know. something resembling a smile tugs on the corner of his mouth, and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“no promises,” he murmurs back, something softer in his gaze as his eyes continue to rake over your face. “but i’ll try.”
“good,” you nod a little again, your own smile tugging on your face as your hands almost absentmindedly trail on dean’s arms— and his eyes literally almost flutter shut at the contact. “and you’re comin’ to my room. and you’re showering.”
dean raises an eyebrow and tries to ignore the warmth that stirred in his chest when you said that all authoritative-like— he swallows before he talks again.
“yes, ma’am.”
. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐
dean knocked on your door before he entered your room not twenty minutes later— don’t ask him, but he showered faster than he ever did in his entire life. he wasn’t too keen on the why.
your head perked up from your pillows when you heard the knock, already under your blankets and— well, let’s be honest here: waiting for him you’d even already moved to the left side of your bed, so dean would have a spot.
a stupid, small part of you had doubts that dean would actually ultimately show up, but it was a little embarrassing how much relief you felt when you call out a soft “yeah”, signaling him to come in.
dean stepped into your room, the only light being from your barley-lit desk lamp. it doubled as a night light, so you didn’t trip over yourself after a midnight snack break.
dean might as well have been in heaven. or something pretty damn close.
of course, he’s been in your room before— but this felt much different than all the other times. because he was going to be sleeping here tonight.
everything felt heightened, more intense— but as dean shut your door, he also had an almost overwhelming sense of comfort. of home. like this is where he was supposed to be this entire time. he pushed those recurring thoughts and feelings he always felt when he was around you, but without first reminding himself that you had agreed to do this. the thought alone was almost enough to make dean’s heart do that thing it always did whenever he was around you.
he’d been lost in his own thoughts, barely even registering the fact that he’d made it to the edge of your bed. your bed. not his, not some old, dingy motel’s. it almost made him chicken out. until—
“as much as i’d like to see you stand there all night, i think you should probably lay down.”
there it was. your incomparable capability to snap dean out of his head, back to reality. he didn’t know how you did it— and to be honest, you didn’t really know, either. but you always could, even giving sam a run for his money.
dean doesn’t hesitate again. you’d already peeled back your covers for him, so he just lifted them up and got under them. like he belonged. as if he’d done so a million times before.
your bed, your sheets, your pillows— it was warm. and it smelled like you, tenfold. an equal blend of your fabric softener that only you used because dean said the teddy bear on the bottle looked at him weird and your shampoo that was way too expensive and you had to go to a separate store for.
dean knew you smelled good, that was no debate— but this was like he was wrapped in it. like he’d been earlier when he hugged you. and so close to how he’d always wanted to be wrapped up in you. yet he knew that wasn’t going to happen tonight.
besides, when was the last time dean winchester got what he wanted?
the answer?
right now.
your eyes hadn’t left dean’s figure when he finally lays down next to you, both now facing each other— it was strange actually seeing him in your bed after years of restless nights wishing he was.
and you could smell him, too— the faint scent of the soap you’d gotten him for his birthday, along with the tea tree shampoo sam kept hidden in the back medicine cabinet (but not well enough, apparently). you decided right then and there that the pillow dean’s head was currently resting on was the one you were going to sleep on after tonight, just so you could smell him after he was gone.
“how you wanna do this?”
dean’s uncharacteristically soft voice broke your thoughts, and you met his eyes when he spoke. his expression looked softer, too— almost hesitant. like he was uncertain. it was a look you rarely ever saw on his face. to see it now, in this way, was bittersweet. then it clicked.
he was nervous.
“however you want to,” is what you reply with, voice just as quiet as his. you reminded yourself that dean had asked for this. in your mind, it was only fair that he get a say. “whatever you need.”
whatever you need. well, dean needed to kiss you silly if it was the last thing he did, but not tonight. not here. he wouldn’t be able to take it if you rejected him in that way.
but he had to take some sort of risk right now. he couldn’t deny himself of it— of you any longer.
so before dean can talk himself out of it, he wraps an arm around you, closing the remaining distance— and to your surprise, he buries his head right into your chest, nuzzling against your shirt.
your breath hitches, and you hope to god that he didn’t hear that. but you don’t reject him. you just wrap your own arms around him, accepting him and his touch just as you had done earlier in the library.
dean would’ve made some joke about basically burrowing his face into your boobs. he didn’t really mean to— but his eyes had fluttered shut already, because you letting him, and you were warm, and you smelled good, and you were so soft.
he’d always loved that about you. from a distance, of course. it didn’t matter how many hardships you’d gone through; you were soft in every sense of the word, both physically and emotionally. and once when he’d taken a shower in your bathroom since sam was hogging the main one in the bunker, the whole damn place smelled like you. he found himself wanting to drown in it.
and hell. he wouldn’t even complain.
your free hand went into his hair at some point, and it took everything in him not to let out a noise. dean sighed a little into your shirt, his breath warm on your chest— he finally let himself relax. go slack.
and he was so grateful that you didn’t tease him, or point out the fact that all six feet and one inch of him was in your grasp and snuggling into you like some damn koala. like a little kid who had a bad dream. but then again, his life felt like a never-ending bad dream most of the time.
you were his one exception to that.
not that he’d ever admit it out loud.
you weren’t sure how long you both stayed like that, wrapped up in each other before dean breaks the warm blanket of silence— it could’ve been hours or seconds. but his voice is so low, so soft, you almost didn’t hear it.
“thanks.”
the word was spoken against you, dean still remaining unmoving. he didn’t necessarily think himself as weak at the moment, even though he thought he should— and he dared not to say it out loud, knowing that you’d immediately shoot his insecurities down.
but dean was finally letting himself get comfort. warmth.
something he’d had for a fleeting moment, then lost. something he had deemed too precious for a man as ragged and as sinful as him a long time ago. he didn’t deserve this. you.
he’d never be one to just take something like this, to ask this of you, without any regard for how you felt. but you showed— all you ever showed to him was the love he thought he’d never receive. the love he’d given so much away, but it never got returned back to him.
because you made him feel like he actually meant something. like he was the hero people he’d saved described him as. like he wasn’t some piece on a chessboard, a punchline in someone’s story, a puppet on a string, or a cog in some eternal machine.
truth was? the big secret?
you made him feel normal. human.
it was almost overwhelming, how safe, comfortable he felt right now. the last time he felt this safe, he’d been a child. the last time he felt this comfortable in himself— damn. it was before hell.
when it was just monsters of the week, the only big goal being finding his dad. staying at bobby’s. you had visited that summer. he can still remember your laugh echoing off of the wallpaper and the piles of books. it was before demons.
and the only angel he saw daily was you.
it was in the way the light shone in through the stained glass of one of bobby’s kitchen windows and hit your face, you making him coffee without being asked. when you smiled at him just because.
you treated him like a real friend. like family. like an equal.
sometimes, when everything in his head was too loud, dean missed it. when the only thought of lucifer he had was when he saw the cartoon on the bottle of the devil’s hot sauce at that barbeque place in texas. when everyone he loved and cared about was still alive. when the world wasn’t ending. when you kissed his cheek after not seeing him for a while.
you still did that last one, though.
“anytime, de.”
dean had flinched a little, but didn’t open his eyes after you replied—he had been too lost in the comfort. in you. he could die right now instead of sleeping, and honestly? it’d be a good way to go out. he’d prefer it over going down swinging any day, he decided.
dean got most of what he wanted tonight. maybe someday he’d get it all. but for now, he’d just dream of it, like he always did.
the only difference?
he was actually in your arms this time.
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you have one ( 1 ) more new message from the author ! ↓
i know i said it already, but i need to hold this man so so so BADDDDD 💔💔💔 he deserves everything and more like that’s my shayla ☹️ my baby my world my everything (he’s a murderer and monsters fear him)
my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @bittersweetfig @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde @vmiina @mahi-wayy @viarasvogue @tinas111 @0ccvltism + if i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please let me know! <3
oh. you know it’s wrong. dean knows it’s wrong– it doesn’t stop him, though.
he’s got you in that crappy motel bed, like he always does. what started as a drunken, terrible mistake has become something else entirely. the only “pretty girl for miles” that he can get climaxing on him night after after. it’d just be a lot better if he hadn’t basically raised you for part of your life. if you didn’t call him your “brother”.
but even so, he’s got his ways of getting deep inside of you, cunt clenching and spasming around him like it’s nothing. taunts of how “no man could do you better than this, baby,” whilst he’s fucking you raw, “not gonna let anyone else touch you, not even sam, y’hear?”
you make some pathetic noises as your back arches off the sticky sheets, incoherently begging for more. like it’s everything you could ever want and need. like it’s not wrong.
“gonna keep you with me, forever, ‘kay? don’t give a fuck if you’re my sister or what– you’ll always belong to me.”
and he’s so aware of it all. it definitely gives him some sort of fucked-up high, that adrenaline-fueled euphoria of knowing he can treat you better than any other man can. the only man who knows how to treat you right. sure, he’s not perfect– far from it– but fuck, he gets you. both outside and in– literally. he’s seen you go on countless dates, where you always end up crying because those asshole just don’t care. hell, he would– will be the first to put that diamond ring on your finger, show you off to the world. fuck what anyone else thinks.
“gonna give you want you need, yeah?” he pants in your ear, wet teeth grazing your skin. the words cut deep, sticking to your bones like glue; a reminder that he’s all you need. “pretty girl need her brother to do her right?”
“i– yes,” you whimper. guilt threads itself into your obscene noises, quickly satiated as he fucks into you just a little bit harder. “please– i need you–”
he’s a man– brother of his word.
and he’s going to get you any way he wants, any position he wants– bed, wall, floor, shower. god, he’ll even have you on his lap of the impala, sam asleep on the backseat. he’ll mock and complain every time you go on a date, patiently wait with that incriminating smirk when you come back, crying to him, and for him. praise you when he fucks you right and you’re a writhing mess; degrade you when you try and get away from him.because you’ll never find anyone better. never.
dean's large leather boots clunked down the hallway of the bunker as he headed towards his room, fresh off a hunt and eager to see his little angel after almost a week of being apart. despite texting and praying everyday, he had missed his girl like crazy.
the loud footsteps didn't even register in your brain as you desperately rocked your hips, riding dean's pillow. your eyes were squeezed shut and you bit at your bottom lip, trying to stifle your pathetic little moans from echoing beyond dean's room, feeling embarrassed and shameful about pleasing yourself.
dean's brow quirked as he heard the soft noises coming from his bedroom. he sped up his footsteps and arrived at the door, slowly pushing it further open to peek inside.
his lips grew into a smirk and he leaned against the doorframe, watching you grind your bare little cunt into his pillow. he watched as your chest rose and fell with every little pant. he felt himself begin to harden under his jeans.
“damn, baby,” he began after silently watching you for a few moments, “is this what you do when i'm out on a hunt? ride my pillow like that?” he tilted his head, the smirk remaining on his lips.
you looked at him with wide eyes, blush slowly rising to your cheeks as the embarrassment clenched at your chest, a feeling you were still trying to get used to in your human vessel.
“dean!” you gasped, “you’re home! i— i didn't know you’d be back tonight,” you muttered sheepishly, embarrassed you'd been caught riding his pillow. you were frozen on top of it as you stared at him.
“hey, it’s okay. i just wanted to surprise you,” he responded softly, stepping into the room and closing his door, “but i guess my little angel's gone and done that for me already,” he let out a quiet huff of a laugh, “s'okay, baby. it was hot, so hot, i promise. keep going for me, yeah? i wanna see my girl cum on my pillow.”
your cheeks heated up even more at the idea of continuing to please yourself in front of him. you'd only just gotten comfortable with having sex with dean in these past few months, the idea of doing this felt almost sinful.
dean sat down on the edge of the bed, a gentle smile on his face. he brushed his hand over your cheek, noticing the apprehension on face, “go on, angel. please?” he asked, his voice a low murmur. he searched your eyes, almost pleadingly.
you let a small shy smile spread across your lips, enjoying the warmth and familiarity of his touch. you looked into his green eyes. you couldn’t help but see his love for you. you felt that funny feeling in your chest again, pulling at your heartstrings. you knew you could trust him to watch, to see you this vulnerable.
with a nervous little sigh, you settled your legs and hips back into the pillow, “mmph, fine. just don't— don't say anything. i feel silly, dean.”
he chuckled and let his eyes trace over you, almost reverently. “don't. don't feel silly. you look incredible, baby. it's hot to see my girl making herself feel good... especially on my pillow in my zeppelin shirt,” he smiled and tugged at the shirt you had mindlessly thrown on earlier that evening.
“mmm, okay…” you looked down, trying to hide your sheepish smile, and began rolling your hips over the pillow again. you let out a soft hum of pleasure and avoided his gaze, looking down at your hands as they squeezed the end of the pillow.
“baby, look at me. i wanna see your pretty face... please?” dean asked, his voice just above a whisper. he watched as you slowly lifted your head, your eyes finally meeting his gaze. he smiled softly, watching your cheeks flush again. “you look so beautiful, angel. my pretty baby,” he cooed, his eyes watching you in awe as you rode his pillow, your bare pussy drooling at the friction.
you let out soft little whimpers as you dug your heat further into the fabric, drenching it with your arousal. dean's jeans grew tighter and tighter and he shifted uncomfortably on the bed, keeping his gaze on you, taking in the sight of his angel looking so pretty and pathetic.
it was a side of you that you didn’t allow him to see very often. he was infatuated with you, his angel letting her guard down and being so vulnerable in front of him. he was used to your firm demeanour and sometimes odd, but endearing little comments you’d make about the world as you learnt more, seeing it all through your angel eyes.
as he watched you hump his pillow and let out sweet little whimpers, his heart thudded in his chest. he was watching you become more human. become more like him. and it made his heart swell, knowing it was all from watching and learning from him. and maybe his brother.
he grinned as your soft noises became louder and louder, enjoying the way you were becoming so shameless and wanton as you rode the pillow. he leaned back on the bed, trying to find relief for his aching cock, trapped by the denim of his jeans.
“that’s it, sweet girl. let me hear those pretty little whimpers. you’re so damn beautiful.” dean said, his words making your head spin a little as you mindlessly humped his pillow.
dean chuckled, watching your legs shake and muscles tense as you neared your orgasm. you felt the tightness in your stomach grow, obscene words and grunts flying out of your mouth, dean's name leaving your lips like a prayer.
dean couldn't get enough of this. of you. you looked so little and beautiful, his own little angel pleasuring herself on his pillow. he considered himself the luckiest man in the world, blessed even. blessed that a heavenly little thing like you would want an old, damaged hunter like himself. in moments like this, he really felt his heart was going to burst out of his chest.
you were heaven sent. you were his girl. his angel. and he was so damn proud about it.
his eyes stayed locked on you as you drove your pussy into the pillow harder, leaving a little wet patch just below you. dean smiled even wider and his tongue shot out, wetting his lips as he noticed it, a soft groan escaping his mouth.
your face scrunched and a loud whimper left your mouth as your hips jerked on the pillow. “gonna-- mmm, dean... gonna cum... please, can i?” you asked innocently through breathy little groans. the sight of your soft, innocent eyes almost made dean melt right there on the bed.
dean nodded, his voice a gentle tone, “yeah, baby. let go. show me how good it feels.”
you cried out and bit your lip as your release washed over you, your soaked little cunt clenching around nothing and drooling onto the pillow even more. your eyes were squeezed shut as little moans and sighs left your mouth. you sounded like a pathetic whiny mess, gushing all over your boyfriend's pillow.
dean's cock strained against his jeans, aching to be freed. his words were deep and rumbled straight out of his chest, “that's it, pretty baby. cum for me. you’re such a good little girl. my perfect angel,” the praises left his lips like a soft hymn, buzzing through your empty little head as you rode the high of your climax.
as you tried to catch your breath, you blinked slowly up at dean. your eyes met and his smile widened, noticing the flushed look on your face, “did so well. sounded like heaven, baby. you're so beautiful.”
you let out a satisfied sigh and rolled your eyes tiredly, “heaven doesn’t have much of a sound, dean,” you commented, sincerity in your voice.
dean laughed as he sat up, adjusting the bulge in his pants, “it's an expression, angel. it's a good thing. means you sounded incredible.”
you smile grew softer at his words, the feelings of shame and embarrassment leaving your chest as he looked at you with such loving eyes. you could feel the adoration in his stare.
“felt incredible,” you mumbled in response. you tilted your head and studied him for a moment, “dean, i— i think i liked you watching me. made it feel better. harder... maybe,” you commented again, the regular factual tone of your voice returning.
dean smirked and tilted his head in return, “oh, yeah? felt better with me watching?” he tutted his tongue against his teeth playfully, “my angel's secretly a dirty little girl. god, what have i done to you?” he said teasingly and chuckled.
you rolled your eyes with a sheepish grin as you sunk down tiredly into the pillow, “i am not filthy... or unpure, dean. and please, refrain from speaking about my father when i’m naked and coming down from an orgasm.”
dean chucked, shaking his head in amusement as he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around your frame and pulling you against him.
he was always entertained by your literal interpretations and how seriously you took things, though he couldn’t deny you were getting better at recognising his jokes and phrases. and he was proud of that.
he squeezed you against his chest, soaking up the feeling of you in his arms again after so many days, “sorry, baby, accident. no more god-talk… but you are filthy. my dirty little angel,” he grinned and kissed the top of your head.
dean looked down at you for a few moments, his green eyes sparkled as they travelled over your features, appreciating your beauty post-orgasm. he carefully laid you back against the mattress, “i'm gonna ruin you to filth, baby. you won't remember a damn thing, but my name when i’m done with you.”
A/N: thank you for 500 followers??? that’s crazy!!!
SUMMARY: A witch hunt gone wrong leaves reader with some unexpected furry features. dean wonders if the hentai gods have finally answered his prayers. 4.1k
WARNINGS: smut (MDNI). cat-hybrid reader. which means mentions of animal ears, tails, meowing, etc (do not read if you don't likd that kind of stuff). piv. unprotected sex. dean is a nerd and a freak but we knew that. one (1) mention of tentacles.
NOTES: i can't stop thinking about dean watching "cartoon smut" so here it is. the author is a virgin so there might be unrealistic details but reader is a catgirl so actually anything could happen. as always, english is not my first language. enjoy<3
Focused on using your last witch-killing bullet before the old woman in front of you finishes chanting a spell that’s apparently sucking all the air out of Sam’s lungs, you don’t notice the black cat behind you.
The case had been simple enough. Another witch causing mayhem in a small town, leaving hex bags scattered around for you three to find. You spoke with the locals, identified the suspect, and followed her to the small abandoned house she used as a lab. It looked almost like a real lab—petri dishes everywhere, concoctions bubbling. The smell of spices and herbs would’ve been overwhelming if you weren’t so focused on fighting for your life.
The black cat, apparently not too fond of you shooting its mistress, sinks its teeth into your ankle with a strength no normal house-cat should have. You shriek and try to step forward just as the cat tries to dart away. You do your best not to step on it—the animal might be the familiar of an evil witch, but you still refuse to hurt a kitty—which only causes you to trip. You and the little feline end up rolling away in a tangle of claws and limbs. You stumble into one of the lab tables, and because your luck is the worst, a sticky liquid spills all over you. Thankfully, it isn’t one of the bubbling concoctions, so there’s no third-degree burns. Instead, you’re drenched in a purple, syrupy substance that smells like… candy?
You spit out the cat fur that somehow made its way into your mouth, while the source of this whole disaster hisses at you, as if it’s all your fault. The cat walks off, offended, head raised high and tail flicking in the air. Then, suddenly, the sharp crack of a gunshot makes both you and the cat turn. Dean had regained consciousness after being knocked out by a blow to the head and had finally killed the witch. You and the feline both make noises of displeasure, but for very different reasons.
The cat runs off, meowing in sorrow for the loss of its guardian. You groan, because with the witch dead, it’s going to be a hundred times harder to figure out exactly what the hell you’re covered in.
So now you are in the bunker, all three of you reading any book you can find on magic and candy-scented potions. You leave Rowena a voicemail, but you doubt she’ll get back to you anytime soon.
The substance had absorbed into your skin a few minutes after the accident, not even giving you time to try and wash it away. It had basically disappeared, only leaving a faint glow and a sweet smell on your skin as proof of the whole ordeal.
After hours of finding nothing useful, you drag yourself into the kitchen to make your third batch of coffee. Something feels off, but in a weird, unfamiliar way. Everything smells stronger, sharper, and more complex. You suddenly have the urge to stretch and lie down in the sunlight, even though you’ve always been known for your vitamin D deficiency. And for fuck’s sake, you still can’t get rid of the sensation of cat fur in your mouth.
“Stupid witchy cat.” You grumble as you wait for the coffee maker to finish its job.
A snicker coming from behind you makes you jump, and you quickly turn around to find your boyfriend leaning on the kitchen island. Dean gives you one of his signature grins, but you can see the undercurrent of worry in his eyes. He’s just as desperate as you to figure out exactly what’s happening.
“Are you done pouting at the coffee? I think Sam is about to pass out.”
That only makes your pout deepen, and Dean chuckles lowly before he starts to walk around the island.
But suddenly there’s a pressure on your head, and your vision gets a little blurry. You lean back against the counter, blinking slowly until the dizziness fades. Once you’re able to focus your eyes again, you turn to Dean.
Your boyfriend is frozen, staring at you with wide eyes and his jaw dropped. You start to get a little worried. What if the potion gave you some horrid, irreversible mutation, and now you have to be sent to the middle of a labyrinth like the Minotaur?
“Dean? Dean!” But he doesn’t even blink, he doesn’t move, he just stares at you. But no, he isn’t looking at you, per se, his gaze is laser-focused just a little higher, right into the top of your head.
That’s when you feel the pressure on the sides of your scalp, and then something twitches. Dean lets out a choked sound, and your hands shoot up instinctively, finding two furry triangles nestled in your hair.
“What. The. Fuck?”
You turn around and find your reflection in the glass of the microwave. Indeed, there are two black cat ears sticking out of your head, the same color of your hair and— the same color of the familiar’s fur.
“That son of a bitch!”
Something behind you stiffens, then shoots upward in response to your anger, and this time Dean curses loudly. In the reflection, you can see it sticking from behind your shoulder, a long black—something—that twitches at the same time your new cat ears do. You hope it’s not what you think it is, but it looks a lot like…
“Are you fucking kidding me? A goddamn tail?”
You turn your head around to look, and there it is, sticking from under the black skirt you had changed into when you got home from the hunt. Same color as your ears, and swinging slowly, lifting your skirt a bit.
“Holy shit.”
Your head snaps up, locking eyes with Dean. His expression is frozen somewhere between awe and disbelief, but there’s something else too—something heated lurking beneath the surface. You’re too busy panicking to dwell on it.
“Guys! I think I found some– oh.”
You’ve locked yourself in the bathroom for what feels like hours. Turns out, the ears and tail weren’t the only side effects of that unfinished shape-shifting potion. No, you’ve also grown fangs—which, okay, you have to admit, are kind of pretty— and you are feeling a little… kittenish?
Like, you have to fight the urge to hiss every time Dean yells through the door for you to come out. You keep catching yourself wanting to rub your side against random furniture—scenting, Sam called it. And worst of all, you’re battling an overwhelming impulse to knock every delicate object in the bunker straight onto the floor.
“Come on, sweetheart. You can’t stay in there forever.”
You sigh, ears flattening against the top of your head. Dean’s right, if you want to fix this you have to leave the bathroom. With a defeated huff, you finally unlock the door.
He’s waiting on the other side, smirking, but he immediately tries to hide his amusement when he catches sight of your frown. You swallow down another hiss, striding past him and into the room you two shared, head high, tail flicking in clear offense.
But as soon as you brush past Dean, an overwhelming smell hits you. You admittedly liked the way Dean usually smelled, like whiskey and motor oil, something musky but sweet at the same time that you had grown to associate with home. But now, with your newly developed sharp senses, it is intoxicating.
“Baby, wait–” Dean tries to stop you from walking away, but you’re already moving, pressing yourself against his chest before you even think about it. “Uf. What…?”
You bury your nose in his neck, sniffing. Dean makes a small, strangled sound when the tip of your nose brushes behind his ear, but you ignore it.
“You smell good.” You mumble, hands pawing at his chest and keeping your face pressed to his skin.
“Thanks?” Dean huffs out, his hands wrapping around your waist. Your boyfriend smells like heaven, but something is missing. A deep, instinctual frustration wells up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, you start nuzzling against him, rubbing your cheek against his skin with frantic determination. He tries to pull you away, and a loud whine rips itself out of your throat.
The sound makes you snap out of it, and you’re suddenly jumping back. You press your back against the wall while you try to catch your breath. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will away the heat crawling up your spine.
“Sorry.” You whisper after a long moment. “I don’t know what happened.”
Dean blinks at you, still standing where you left him, hands half-raised like he’s not sure whether to reach for you or give you space. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.
“Uh. So it is that bad, huh?”
You don’t answer, still pressed against the wall, mortified.
Dean scrubs a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “Look, sweetheart, no need to freak out, okay? You’re just, uh—adjusting.” His lips twitch. “Though, gotta say, not used to you being this eager to cuddle me in the middle of a crisis.”
You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “Dean, please.”
“I’m just sayin’" He lifts his hands defensively. "if this is a side effect, I’m not exactly complaining.”
Your glare sharpens, but Dean just grins, eyes flicking to your still-twitching ears. His smirk falters for a second, though, when he remembers that sound—the desperate little whine you let out when he pulled away. His fingers flex at his sides.
“But, uh… you’re okay, right?” His voice is softer now, eyes scanning your face.
You nod, still rattled but slowly coming back to yourself.
“As okay as you can be after being physically-modified without your consent.”
Dean watches you for a beat longer, then huffs out a breath and shakes his head.
“Alright. Well, if you feel the urge to, y’know, scent-mark me again, maybe give a guy some warning next time.”
The words ‘scent-mark’ make you grimace, and you cover your eyes with your hands again.
“I will murder you, you know I can.”
The threat only makes him laugh, and you sigh in defeat. You will never live this down, that you are sure of.
“Did Sam find anything about how to fix this?”
You hear Dean shift closer, and you drop your hands, meeting his gaze.
“Rowena called back while you were locked in there.” He hesitates, pressing his lips together like he already knows you’re not going to like what’s next. “Since the potion wasn’t finished, the effects are temporary. You’ll just have to wait it out, baby.”
“This is a fucking nightmare.” You scoff, leaning back against the wall in resignation.
Your cat ears flatten, tail curling low around your thigh. The kitten fangs feel too big in your mouth, and the sheer overload of sounds and scents is driving you insane.
Dean steps closer. It’s only then that you notice his pupils—blown wide, dark with something unreadable. You frown, about to question it, but before you can, he moves.
And then he’s kissing you.
The kiss is hot and sudden, stealing the breath from your lungs before you can even react. It is a little rougher than Dean usually is with you in moments like this, but you’re not complaining. His hands find your waist, pulling you in as he swallows your surprised little gasp.
His palms roam your sides, fingers pressing in like he needs to feel every inch of you. Your hands clutch his shoulders as he leans in closer, deepening the kiss until your head spins. It’s only when your lungs start to burn that you break away.
“Dean, w– ah!” As soon as you pull your lips away, he starts kissing down your neck. “What’s gotten into you?”
He hums against your skin, warm and insistent, sucking softly just below your collarbone. His teeth graze you, and a sound slips past your lips.
A. Literal. Mewl.
Dean groans like you just wrecked him. Before you can even process your own humiliation, his hands slide under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly.
You yelp, arms flying around his shoulders as he holds you against him.
Next thing you know, your back hits the mattress.
Dean looks possessed—breathing heavy, eyes dark. You glance at the door, which was already closed. Your eyes return to Dean when his hands slide under your skirt. You’re about to ask what’s going on again, until you notice the way his eyes are locked on your kitten ears.
Your tail sways, slow and deliberate against the sheets. Realization hits you suddenly, and you grab Dean’s shoulders to stop him from leaning in again.
“You’re into this shit.” It is more an affirmation than a question.
And suddenly, everything makes sense.
Dean’s weirdly specific interest in anime. The late-night “cartoon smut” Sam always rolled his eyes at. The alarming amount of Japanese erotic magazines you’d found in the Impala’s trunk that one time. His utterly feral reaction to your new feline features.
You inhale sharply, scandalized. “Dean. Do you have a catgirl fetish?”
He scoffs, but a blush creeps into his cheeks. For the first time in your life, you’re seeing Dean Winchester flustered.
He tries to straighten up, but you stop him, still gripping his shoulders. Your grin stretches wide, ears perking up with curiosity.
You just stare, eyebrows raised, as Dean struggles to compose himself.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His comeback is so lame you can’t help but laugh. Just like that, the stress of the potion incident vanishes now that you had an opportunity to tease your boyfriend.
“You little freak!” You slap his shoulder, still a little embarrassed by the whole situation. “Oh my god, I can't believe this.”
“Shut up.” He grunts.
You open your mouth to tease him again, but he shuts you up with another kiss.
Your tongues tangle as Dean tugs your skirt down in one swift motion. You let him, arms lifting when he starts to pull your shirt over your head.
Sure, you’re still freaking out a little. And yeah, Dean being into the catgirl thing is mortifying.
But the heat pooling in your stomach drowns out your embarrassment. Your chest rises and falls, breath hitching as Dean’s hands roam your bare skin—every touch heightened by your new, razor-sharp senses.
Your panties are soaked through in seconds, and you wonder for a second if it is a cat hybrid thing. Your little fangs brush against Dean’s tongue, and he breaks the kiss with a groan.
“You’re so fuckin’ hot, baby.” Your underwear is gone in seconds, and you moan when his fingers slide in between the lips of your swollen cunt. “You’re so wet, shit.”
Your back arches off the bed when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow circles while his fingers press lightly against your entrance. You spread your legs, giving Dean more room in between them. The sound that comes out of you when his middle finger finally buries itself inside of you is so kitten-like that it makes you flush.
“Dean, please.” You mewl, not sure what you’re asking for.
The moment you open your mouth, Dean’s eyes lock onto your little fangs. His thumb brushes over your upper lip before tugging it up, eyes going wide.
"Son of a bitch." He mutters, running his finger over the sharp point of one. "Look at that. So fucking cute."
You brush your tongue against the pad of his thumb. The sensation has you drooling, your mouth forced open, and before you can process it, Dean shoves his middle and ring fingers inside.
You suck on his fingers, your head bobbing and tongue curling around them. Dean groans, pushing his digits deeper into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. He only pulls away when saliva spills down the corner of your mouth, wiping his hand on the sheets before kissing down your neck.
“So damn messy for me, kitten.” He licks and nips at your chest, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. You push your hips down, trying to get him deeper inside you. “You’re so needy, baby. Like a kitty in heat.”
Dean’s words are hushed, a little rambly—you’ve never heard him like this. Mr. Confident and Nonchalant, completely unraveling. He’s so crazily into this crap, it’s almost funny.
Your laugh comes out breathy as Dean presses his thumb a little harder against you. That makes him pause, eyes flicking up. He looks as disheveled as you expected him to be, but he is now frowning.
“What are you laughing at?” He grunts, settling between your legs.
“I should’ve known your hentai-ridden brain would be into this shit, but I never imagined you’d get this—hot and bothered over a pair of cat ears.”
You wait for Dean to yank off his shirt before leaning in, voice dropping to a whisper.
“Are you into tentacles too? Or maybe—”
You are silenced by Dean slapping your pussy.
The smack echoes around the room, and it makes you choke on your words.
“You better shut that pretty mouth before I shut it up for you.”
The “don’t threaten me with a good time” dies on your tongue when two more fingers enter you. You were loose and wet enough for it, throbbing with the need to have Dean inside of you.
Maybe you are in heat.
You whine when the digits suddenly pull out, but then you’re being turned around into your front. Dean helps you positionate on all four, face low against the mattress and ass raised high, back arched in a perfect, flawless curve.
You almost get knocked down when Dean suddenly presses against you. The blunt tip of his cock brushes up and down your slit, collecting the obscene amount of slick that is steadily dripping out of you. He slowly presses against your entrance until only the head is inside. Dean waits a few seconds, making you whimper desperately before he buries himself to the hilt in one swift motion.
You let out a high-pitched moan at the sudden feeling of fullness.
“Hell, look at you.” Dean starts to thrust immediately, hips rocking mercilessly against you. “Look at your pretty tail, fuck.”
That makes you turn your head around, and you catch sight for your tail swinging in contentment at being fucked. Your blush worsens and you hide your face against the covers.
“You feel so good, kitty. Such a tight, warm cunt, just for me.”
Dean’s hips shift and suddenly he is slamming against that spot that makes you grip the blankets for dear life. You mewl helplessly, ears twitching and pussy tightening around Dean.
“Yeah, Dean. Ngh- right there.”
Dean keeps thrusting into you at a brutal pace, and the only sounds your enhanced hearing can pick up are your loud whines and Dean’s rough moans. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hope Sam is reading away in the library, far enough not to hear.
Amidst all the burning sensation, you almost miss the way Dean’s hand curls around the base of your tail. It makes your shoulders tense up, and then he tugs at it.
The sensation that runs up your spine is like nothing you had ever felt before. Your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back. You let out a yowl of pleasure, totally overwhelmed by it.
The way you tighten around Dean makes him still for a second, surprised by your intense reaction. You whimper and rock your hips back.
“Again. Dean– again.”
There’s one more second of stillness before Dean resumes the roll of his hips with new-found vigor. It is almost violent in the best way, and it makes your nails drag down the blankets, your tongue lolling out of your mouth.
“You like that, baby?” Dean whispers, and he sounds wrecked. His voice is strangled and the hand that is not on your tail is gripping your hips so hard you just know it will leave marks.
“You like having your tail pulled? What a needy little thing.”
You nod as best as you can while being rocked back and forth insatiably, and you are rewarded by a harsh tug to your tail. You moan and mewl repeatedly, asking for more.
Dean keeps pulling at your tail, his other hand leaving your hip and sliding around your body until he finds your swollen clit. He starts rubbing it and tugging your tail at the same time, making you throw your head back and scream.
“I’m close.” You cry out. “Fuck, Dean. Gonna come.”
“Cum for me, kitten.” The head of his cock keeps hitting that sensitive spot, and you feel like you’re going to lose your mind. “You’ve been so good for me, get this cute little cunt all messy for me.”
You let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a meow as you cum, wetness dripping out of you and running down your thighs.
Your boyfriend keeps fucking you through your orgasm, thrusts now sloppy and desperate.
“That’s it. So goddamn tight, fuck. Fuck.”
He grunts loudly as he comes inside of you. Thick ropes of cum cover your inner walls, filling you with warmth. You hum in satisfaction at the feeling. Dean stays deep inside you even after his climax ends, panting and stroking your tail softly.
You whine, ears going flat against your head when he slowly pulls out. It makes him chuckle, and you pout. It quickly disappears when Dean lays down next to you, pulling you against his chest before draping a blanket over your naked bodies.
“You like getting your tail pulled.” He breathes out, like he is still marveling at the discovery.
Still recovering from the most intense orgasm you have ever had, you hide your face against Dean’s neck and groan.
“Shut up.” You grumble. But after a second, you end up whispering. “It felt good.”
“Yeah, I could tell.”
That earns him a slap on the chest. He just laughs, pulling you closer. Too fucked out to care, you nuzzle your cheek against his skin—scenting him. He already smells like you after everything that just happened, and the thought fills you with a deep, lazy satisfaction.
Then, suddenly, a low, rumbling sound vibrates deep in your chest. It rolls through your whole body, making you melt further into Dean’s arms. His hand, still tracing up and down your back, abruptly stops.
He calls your name, voice tinged with shock.
“Are you… purring?”
That makes you pause.
You are fucking purring, from getting railed.
You’re about to die from embarrassment when Dean curses loudly, his forehead dropping against the top of your head. Your kitten ears twitch and brush against his cheeks, making him groan again.
“God fucking damn it. There’s no way—this has to be some messed-up fever dream.”
If you’re being honest, your boyfriend being so affected by it makes all the shame wash away. You giggle, still purring.
“You fucked me so well you made me purr.” You whisper in his ear, and he looks like he’ll combust.
“You can’t say shit like that.” He grunts, rubbing a hand over his face.
“Just saying the truth, love.”
You stay like that, wrapped up in each other, chests pressed together. The steady rumble of your purring fills the space, low and soothing. At some point, your tail curls around Dean’s arm, and he just chuckles, tracing lazy shapes along your back with his fingertips.
You scent him one last time for good measure, this time dragging your lips along his neck, leaving little bruises and imprints of your sharp teeth all over.
He lets you, exhaling softly, his other hand finding your kitten ears. The gentle scratch behind them pulls a sweet, contented sigh from your throat.
“Y'know,” Dean murmurs after a long stretch of silence, mischief lacing his voice. “There’s one more thing we should probably check before the potion wears off.”
You hum, too relaxed to question it.
He leans in, lips brushing your ear.
"Do you have a rough tongue?"
You turn to him in disbelief, catching the way his eyes darken.
"We already kissed, dumbass. Your fingers were literally in my mouth. You know I don’t."
You shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, that cocky grin only widens as he leans in further, voice dropping to a whisper.
"Maybe… but we should make sure. Plus, y’know, cats love milk—”
"You absolute perv!" You push him again, harder this time, and he finally falls back against the mattress with a chuckle.
You shake your head, laughing at his audacity. “Shut up before I tell everyone big bad hunter Dean Winchester is a fucking nerd with a catgirl kink.”
By morning, all kitten features are gone. You celebrate while Dean mourns the loss, But you already know—eventually, you’ll be asking Rowena for a similar potion.
You simply like making your boyfriend feel good, even if it includes some weird hentai shit.
It had nothing to do with how good the tail-pulling felt, of course.
NOTES: yes, i had to watch catgirl hentai while researching for this (no other reason). I can't believe this is so long but I am unable to shut the fuck up. anyway, hope you liked it!
oh. you know it’s wrong. dean knows it’s wrong– it doesn’t stop him, though.
he’s got you in that crappy motel bed, like he always does. what started as a drunken, terrible mistake has become something else entirely. the only “pretty girl for miles” that he can get climaxing on him night after after. it’d just be a lot better if he hadn’t basically raised you for part of your life. if you didn’t call him your “brother”.
but even so, he’s got his ways of getting deep inside of you, cunt clenching and spasming around him like it’s nothing. taunts of how “no man could do you better than this, baby,” whilst he’s fucking you raw, “not gonna let anyone else touch you, not even sam, y’hear?”
you make some pathetic noises as your back arches off the sticky sheets, incoherently begging for more. like it’s everything you could ever want and need. like it’s not wrong.
“gonna keep you with me, forever, ‘kay? don’t give a fuck if you’re my sister or what– you’ll always belong to me.”
and he’s so aware of it all. it definitely gives him some sort of fucked-up high, that adrenaline-fueled euphoria of knowing he can treat you better than any other man can. the only man who knows how to treat you right. sure, he’s not perfect– far from it– but fuck, he gets you. both outside and in– literally. he’s seen you go on countless dates, where you always end up crying because those asshole just don’t care. hell, he would– will be the first to put that diamond ring on your finger, show you off to the world. fuck what anyone else thinks.
“gonna give you want you need, yeah?” he pants in your ear, wet teeth grazing your skin. the words cut deep, sticking to your bones like glue; a reminder that he’s all you need. “pretty girl need her brother to do her right?”
“i– yes,” you whimper. guilt threads itself into your obscene noises, quickly satiated as he fucks into you just a little bit harder. “please– i need you–”
he’s a man– brother of his word.
and he’s going to get you any way he wants, any position he wants– bed, wall, floor, shower. god, he’ll even have you on his lap of the impala, sam asleep on the backseat. he’ll mock and complain every time you go on a date, patiently wait with that incriminating smirk when you come back, crying to him, and for him. praise you when he fucks you right and you’re a writhing mess; degrade you when you try and get away from him.because you’ll never find anyone better. never.
Summary: A tale of a strong knight falling in love with what he must protect.
A/N: This has been on my mind for a year! I honestly think this is my favorite fic I have done. I've had such a hard time writing lately, but this came so easy. The world became much bigger than I imagined. I wouldn't mind doing spinoffs maybe.
It’s warmer here than Aki remembers it being. Right under the sun, it’s no surprise the castle was built on a hill. The most important building in the whole kingdom. He hasn’t been here in ages, longer than ages. Aki has been away for a very long time, but he’s now returned on special order from the King. He wouldn’t say it was unwarranted exactly. He was the best knight in the nation; it only made sense that the King would assign any special orders to him. When the message came to him Aki found himself intrigued by the offer.
He’s spent the past several years on the ground commanding the kingdom's army into battle. Most certainly not an easy task, which was why he was interested at the King's request for a personal knight. For the Princess, the message noted. He didn't really know much about you. You were an only child, the sole heir to the strong King and Queen. He hadn’t spent any time near normal subjects, so he was unable to speak towards your character (though he had heard whispers between knights speaking of your beauty, whether or not they were true was to remain to be seen). That being said, you were a Princess. He was sure that nepotism carried you along in life, and he had a hard time fathoming you to be anything of a normal person. Not on purpose of course. You just had everything handed to you on a silver platter.
When Aki sets foot on the castle grounds he realizes not much has changed. The walls are still cemented with thick concrete, daring anyone to try to knock them down. There’s still the same silver birch trees planted on the sides, giving the castle a more warm feel. He’s even seen a few familiar faces since arriving, to which he gave a curt nod before passing by. Aki hated to admit it, but he knew he was more or less famous now. He knew tales of his deeds reached far and wide within the kingdom once he became the leader of the army years ago. That was one of the reasons he was hardly surprised to learn that the King requested his help specifically.
Aki locates the head guard, following him around the halls of the castle to find the King. He’s making small talk, half paying attention while half wondering what his days are going to be like. The sounds of their feet fill the halls, each step determined and measured.
He probably wouldn’t need to touch his sword again.
On the off chance he would need it, he would be more than ready.
“Your Majesty,” the guard abruptly says, coming to a halt and then bowing.
Aki tunes back in to notice the King standing in front of him, his attendants on either side of him. He looks exactly as Aki remembers. Tall and muscular, with deep smile lines. It’s been years but he still commands the same presence he did back then.
“Sir Hayakawa, it’s wonderful to see you again.” The King begins, voice deep and all powering. “How was the journey?” If he’s feigning interest, Aki certainly can’t tell, but then again he’s never been one to fully understand royals.
“It was pleasant, Your Highness.” Aki bows, keeping his eyes trained at the King’s feet before he stands back up straight.
“That’s wonderful to hear. We were starting to get worried about you, you know.” The King starts walking, looking over his shoulder to wait for Aki and the guard to follow. “We haven’t heard much about your ventures as of late.”
Communication has been slow between the army and the crown for the past several months. There had been no major battles to report, which was a good thing. Sometimes Aki wondered if the royals wished there to be more blood shed - if it would be more entertaining for them.
“Nothing to report Your Highness, everything has been calm on the ground, more or less.” Aki trails after the King, walking throughout the halls. The King is bringing him back outside, he’s noticed.
Isn’t he supposed to meet the Princess first thing?
“Well, I suppose that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” The King adds. “How do you feel about Sir Denji taking over for you?”
“I fully believe in his ability to lead the military. He’s more than capable,” Aki responds, images of the younger man pushed into a mature role at far too young flashing through his mind, briefly reminding him of himself.
The King looks over his shoulder at Aki again, a knowing glint in his eye.
Aki may as well be fully honest.
“He’s a bit impatient, but that will dissipate with age I’m sure.” Aki admits, one hand dangling at his side, with the other resting at the hilt of his sword.
The King hums and chuckles, agreeing quietly. “I’m sure no one could compare to you Sir Hayakawa, but alas I have a more important task for you.”
The King reaches a large door leading to the courtyard, sun blinding Aki’s eyes as he follows shortly behind. There’s a gaggle of guards training in the yard, wood swords being thrust in the air with low grunts filling the space. He’d trained here too once, long ago.
Several guards bow at the King, and remained bowed for Aki. He has some of the highest respect in the castle, save for the immediate royal family. It never feels normal, even if it has been for the past few years. Once acquainted with guards or fellow knights he quickly assured them that he doesn’t require such pleasantries.
He was wondering where the King was leading him, though.
“Your Highness-“ Aki begins walking slightly forward, ensuring not to stand directly aside the King. He knows his place.
“There she is, the important task I have for you.” The King nods forward, Aki’s eyes following the direction.
The Princess.
You’re standing in the courtyard, with a guard beside you. You’re wearing a long red dress, the color deep and rich and surely meant to be beautiful, but the color reminds Aki of only one thing. You have a small grin on your face as you watch the guards spar, with your hands neatly folded in front of your waist.
“You’ll be assigned to her until further notice, I sure hope she doesn’t cause you too much trouble.” The King bellows, catching your attention.
You glance towards the King, noticing your father and his entourage. Your eyes find Aki and he would be a liar if he said his lungs didn't stop for just a moment.
The rumors were true. You’re stunning. The light catches your hair perfectly, giving an unnatural glow to your face. Aki has heard his comrades mention before of your appearance, but he thought it was all heresy. Now he can most certainly attest that it is not.
You walk up slowly to your father, the guard beside you following closely. The castle grounds are the safest place in the nation, but you can never be too sure. That’s most of the reason Aki was reigned in here.
“Father,” you say, curtsing deep. “I thought you had a meeting right now.” You stand up tall, shoulders squared back as you look at the King.
You’ve spared Aki one glance since he’s arrived, but he finds himself craving it once more.
“Darling, I was. We finished and I was on my way back to my chambers when I noticed Sir Hayakawa in the halls.” The King looks over his shoulder at Aki. “He is to be your new Knight.”
Once his presence is announced, you finally give Aki your full attention. He keeps his head high for a moment before dropping to one knee, rehearsing the dance he learned long ago.
For the King and Princes, a bow. For the Queen and Princesses, a knee. For other members of the court, nothing.
You lift your hand up as if on cue, offering it to Aki. He takes it, delicately holding your palm in his hand. Truth be told, he’s not sure the last time he held something so dainty.
Aki raises his mouth to your hand, kissing the back while looking up at you. A small smile tugs at the side of your lips, polite and vague as Aki does so.
“Princess, it’s my honor to meet your acquaintance.” He means it.
“My honor to meet yours as well. I’ve heard many stories.” Your eyes follow him as he stands up once more. “I certainly look forward to hearing if they’re all true.”
Aki would never tell you the stories of his ventures. They were far too gruesome for a lady of your stature. Whether or not the tales told were accurate or not was to remain a mystery, at least as long as he could control it.
The King inhales deeply, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. “Now that that’s all taken care of, I must depart.” His attendants and the guard who escorted Aki stand back. “If you need anything Sir Hayakawa, do not be afraid to ask.” An offer that Aki is sure he won't take.
He would never dream of taking something from the King.
The King excuses himself along with his entourage, and in the mess of people Aki notices the guard standing near you leaves as well. It’s just the two of you now facing each other.
“I was just out here to watch practice,” you start, facing the guards once more.
Aki lets his mind wander. He notices you aren’t standing on the parapet, which would have been more common. Royals tend to keep themselves above others in order to gaze down upon them. Yet here you are, standing on the same ground as the guards.
He watches you smile at the sparring. It doesn’t make him angry per se, but he does wonder if you know what they’re practicing for. They’re here to train to be a part of the royal guard or knights. Knights being on the front lines of war, while royal guards were the last line of defense for the crown - putting their life on the line should it require it, and sometimes it does. Both roles are incredibly dangerous, with many lives already having been lost.
Is this all entertainment to you?
It wouldn’t be the first time a royal has thought so.
“Do you come here often, Princess?” Aki inquires, walking to your side. “Does it not frighten you?”
“I like to stay up to date with what our subjects are doing,” you answer. “Plus, it looks like they’re having fun, does it not?”
Aki looks back at the guards and notices laughter flowing throughout the air. They’re all young, innocent from all the harm that may befall them in the future. Aki supposes he must be cynical; he’s been in the game for far too long and yet somehow not long enough. He can’t remember the last time he laughed like that.
“Yes, I suppose it does.” He replies, though he’s not sure if you were truly looking for one.
You look out of the corner of your eye and grin at him which he misses.
“Princess, you must return to your chambers at once!” A feminine voice yells, each syllable more frazzled than the last.
Aki and you turn in sync, watching as a short brunette woman rushes over.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere Princess-“ she catches her breath. “Your lessons are well passed due.”
You give a tight lipped smile and nod. Aki doesn’t interject, knowing it’s his place to only provide assistance when needed, and when he isn’t needed he plans on just being a quiet fly on the wall.
“My apologies Kobeni, I was only taking a short recess. We need to go over details of the dance, correct?”
“Yes. There will also be dress fittings.” Kobeni’s eyes slide over to Aki. He can tell she’s wondering who he is, and if he’ll be attending the dress fittings.
It’s not his place to introduce himself, so instead he waits like a dog, patiently and quietly.
“This is Sir Hayakawa, he is to be my knight.” His name slips off your tongue so easily, Aki finds himself wondering if you had ever uttered it before.
“I see, well, follow along then.” Kobeni turns around and rushes forward, not even glancing back to ensure the two of you are following.
You give a soft smile and walk after her. Aki trails behind you, going at a slower pace than his limbs are normally used to due to his height. He keeps in mind to stay right behind you.
“There’s a dance to be had in two months time - the largest of the season.” You explain.
Aki doesn’t know much of dances, but he supposes this is what his life is going to be like going forward. A far cry from battle. Although, maybe it’s a battle in its own right.
“I have to practice for it. Dressings, etiquette, dancing,”
Aki listens intently. You don’t sound as though you’re complaining, which is a bit of a shock to him. He could never imagine having to prepare for something like that.
“Do you practice with the other royals?” He asks, looking at the back of your head.
You’re easier to talk to than he would’ve imagined. He doesn’t feel as though he needs to hold his tongue as much.
“No, this dance is for me.” Your voice echoes in the halls of the castle once you enter.
The rock encasing the castle ensures the inside stays nice and cool, perhaps a bit too cool, and it would have been considerably darker if not for the candles hung on every wall along with the large windows.
“It’s for suitors.” You finish, and Aki detects a hint of emotion in that sentence, more emotion then he’s heard from you thus far, even though it was barely anything.
“Sounds exciting,” Aki isn’t quite sure how to respond.
He doesn’t know too much about the process of marriage for royals. He knows more often than not it is for military gain, joining two kingdoms together in peace. Less than rarely is it out of love. Aki isn’t sure he knows of a case where it is.
There are a long list of men your age (just a few years Aki’s junior) in the nearing kingdoms, all of different statuses. As there is no other heir to succeed the position in this kingdom, sexism be damned, you were more than likely to be wed to a Prince for his kingdom. Unless your father and mother could produce another heir, a male heir (which was unlikely) you would be tasked with producing two male heirs. One for this kingdom, and one for the next. Aki didn't want to think about what would happen if your body wasn’t up to the task.
“You think so?” Your tone is calculating in the way royals usually speak, trying to find a hidden meaning. Royals are good for one thing and that’s the art of communication. They excel at discussing topics without outright saying them.
Aki knows they are trained from a young age to navigate tough discussions, to use their words to disarm others. It’s a talent Aki can admire, he was never particularly good with his words. Awkward and stilted, conversation was never really important for battle.
“I suppose so. I imagine dances are fun,” he says, never having attended a formal royal one.
You faintly smile and agree softly, leaving Aki to wonder what your hidden agenda was.
“What do you think of Kobeni?” You ask.
“She seems nice, perhaps a little frazzled.”
You chuckle at that and there goes Aki’s lungs again, stalling as if he’s forgotten how to breathe, as if his endurance built up over all of these years has amounted to nothing.
“Yes, well, she’s been that way for quite some time. She doesn’t look it but she’s much older than me. She raised me for most of my childhood, she was my wet nurse in fact. Mother was far too busy.”
That surprised Aki as he would not have guessed her to be your senior by that many years. When the two of you finally reach your room, much to Kobeni's impatience, Aki takes a good look at her face once more. There’s wrinkle lines around her eyes and mouth where there would not be otherwise.
The normal code would suggest Aki follows you unless you dismiss him, but he does find the back of his neck getting hot at the idea of being here for a dress fitting. He’s not sure what that entails, but it sounds like it would be immodest for him to attend, the sight most likely reserved for your future husband.
“Sir Hayakawa, you can stand guard out here while I change. Once we’ve found the dress you may enter.” You walk into your room, “thank you for your service.”
Aki keeps his face neutral even though the compliment surprises him. He had hardly done anything thus far, aside from guiding you to your chambers. He had fought numerous wars without hearing a peep of gratitude, so the feeling is foreign to him, yet not entirely unwelcome. “Of course, Princess. Call out if you need anything.”
Kobeni shuts the door behind you, leaving Aki to guard your door alone. If he listens closely he can hear faint talking in your room, various handmaidens assisting you in changing.
Though this job was much safer than his last, it was also much more boring. He’s halfway through counting the stones beneath his feet when the door behind him opens. Aki turns around and looks into your room, finding you in front of a mirror, adorned by a gown. It was a deep blue, the length of it nearly swallowing you whole. You’re admiring the dress when you meet his gaze reflecting in the mirror, which causes you to sheepishly look away.
“It’s not entirely fitted yet, although this will be the dress I’m going to wear.” You tell him, refusing to meet his eyes.
“You look lovely, Princess.” Aki murmurs, his attention drifting from your jaw, to your collarbone, to your dress.
It’s a compliment he doles out without even thinking. You really do look like a Queen, even if you currently weren’t one.
You bite your lip and dip your head, your fingers starting to pull at the dress in a sign of embarrassment.
Once the moment is over you watch Kobeni talk with the two handmaidens, giving instructions on what they need to do next. “Kobeni, was that all for the day? I'm quite tired.”
Kobeni stops mid sentence with the handmaidens. She looks as though she’s running on fumes, her mouth pulled downward in a frown. “Yes Princess. Let me assist in changing your clothes first, then I will take my leave so you can rest.”
“No, it’s fine Kobeni, I think I can manage. Thank you. Why don’t you take a break?” You offer, turning towards her.
Kobeni looks like she wants to argue but refrains from doing so, instead ushering out the other girls while you watch. You thank her and the other handmaidens before they take their leave, leaving the two of you alone.
“Well, I suppose I will give you some privacy then.” Aki says, excusing himself.
“Yes, it shouldn’t take me very long.” You agree.
Aki steps out again and closes the door, knowing you must change before he can lay his eyes on you once more.
The sight before him even just now was a treasure, the presence of the Princess wearing such fine clothing. It was a sight most would only dream of seeing.
He begins counting the stones again, nearly forgetting where he had ended off last time when he hears your voice.
“Sir Hayakawa, will you help me for a moment?”
Aki turns around again and opens the door, peeking his head in. He assumes you’ve finished dressing, perhaps needing help to put the dress away. The sight before him is far different. You’re still standing in front of your mirror, arms bent behind your back while you attempt to unbutton your dress. Aki quickly looks away as soon as he sees a hint of skin.
“I can’t reach the last one,” you sound clipped, patting behind you to reach the final button.
Aki flicks his gaze up to you once more before peeking his head out into the hallway again, making sure no one is around. He’s not doing anything wrong necessarily, his job is to help you with whatever you need. Even if that was the case, it still felt so scandalous.
He steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him before he strides up to you. He notices how small your hands look compared to his. Aki locates the final button, noting there were still ribbons to be undone as well.
“They make these difficult, don’t they?” He murmurs, unbuttoning the final button, noticing how the dress becomes looser.
You're holding it up with a hand on your chest, watching in the mirror.
“Yes, they honestly do. I was hoping I could take it off myself but that seems to not be the case.” You let out a soft laugh at that, a poke at your own foolishness.
Aki’s fingers skillfully pull the ribbon loose, catching a glimpse of your bare back before he looks away. Under any other circumstance the sight would not be considered out of the ordinary. He’s seen his fair share of royals before and on occasion their dress will reveal their backs more. Even so, this does not feel the same.
“Thank you Sir Hayakawa, you’re dismissed. I will call for you once I’m done.”
He turns around and waits in the hallway, recounting the sight of your small hands and soft skin until he hears your voice through the wood. You open the door before he has a chance, once more wearing your red dress.
“I thought you were tired, Princess?” He expected that you would want to rest in your room for the remainder of the day.
“Quite. Let’s wander, shall we?”
You’re confusing. You’re nothing like the previous royals he’s met so far. You have some traits that are typical, such as the way you seem to speak in riddles. Other than that you’re different. You’ve thanked multiple staff since he’s arrived, and you’ve let him touch you, even if it was innocent.
Aki follows you out, unsure where the final destination is but knowing he’ll protect you nonetheless.
You walk outside, waving at the children who pass by, their parents certainly working for the crown. He wants to ask where you’re going but holds his tongue, still unsure of what he can say. You’re easy to talk to, sure, but you’re still above him in ranking. He would never want to overstep.
It isn’t until you are far out of the castle's bounds, feet navigating through long grass in a field when you speak again.
“I used to come out here all the time when I was a child,” you say, walking slower until you near a large oak. “Still do sometimes, though I’m much more busy.”
Aki understands why you liked the field. The area is quieter than the castle, not another soul in sight. He thinks it might be dangerous due to it being deserted but assures himself that if an attacker were to come then they would most certainly be located quickly.
“It’s nice.” Aki stops by the tree, watching as you walk several feet forward until you come to a stop, lowering yourself to sit on the grass below.
You’ll get your dress dirty, perhaps Aki should have come more prepared to offer you clothing to lay upon. Next time, he thinks.
“Princess, your dress-“ He rests a hand on his sword, looking over the field slowly.
“I know, it’s okay.” You run your hands through the grass as your shoulders sag. “Sir Violence said the same thing every time I came out here. I do miss him.”
That’s a shock. Sir Violence was your previous knight. Rumor has it that you were the one who fired him, although the action seems almost out of character now that Aki’s met you. Still, royals have their reasons, and their temperaments can be finicky at best.
Aki remains quiet, looking forward as though he hasn’t been granted to look at the sight below.
“You’re wondering where he is, aren’t you?” You ask, and Aki can feel your gaze on him.
Aki was. Sir Violence had been one of the higher up knights, responsible and kind. From what he heard he liked being your knight, so Aki felt bad when he heard the news that you had fired him.
“Yes, but it is none of my business.” Aki answers honestly, as doing so has gotten him the furthest.
“I fired him.” Hearing the words come from your mouth was even more shocking.
Aki feels a strike of anger, knowing Sir Violence enough to know he wouldn’t have done anything to warrant such action. It’s the first time he’s felt the emotion towards you, and he doesn’t like how it lays on his shoulders, heavy and wrong.
“Did he offend you, Princess?”
“No, not at all. His wife became with child.” Oh. Aki did not know that. “My knights have to be with me from sunrise to sun down. It seemed rather cruel to have him with me for that long, knowing he had a wife and babe waiting on him.”
Aki did not expect that. He looks down at you, finding you already looking up at him. He quickly moves his eyes back forward again.
“I set up a job for him in the city. He’s to be the next chief.” That job paid handsomely.
“That was very kind of you,” Aki murmurs, sheepish from how he jumped to conclusions. There would have been no ulterior motive for you to do that for Violence.
“I felt awfully selfish,” you mumbled, tucking your legs beneath you. “However, I am glad that it led me to meeting you.”
Aki fidgets with the handle of his sword. He’s not used to upfront compliments, not used to the way it makes his forehead sweat as if he was just in battle.
“Thank you, Princess.” Aki knows he shouldn’t let his feelings get too close to the job, but you’re making it awfully difficult.
“You know, you can call me by my given name.” You say your name as if it isn’t common knowledge in the kingdom. “I would be okay with it.” You hesitate for a moment like you have more to say. “Can I call you by your name as well?” There’s the greediness Aki half expected when he started the job, but he finds that it doesn’t turn him off. “We’re going to be spending a lot of time together, after all.”
“That would be immodest, Princess.” He stands his ground, though he knows he isn’t too strict on the situation, and would give up if you pushed him enough. He half expects you to, half wants you to.
He wants to set clear boundaries. He knows that all he is is your knight, and that is all he will ever be.
Still.
Would you press the matter further?
Why does he want you to anyway?
“I suppose it is, isn’t it?” You fold in on yourself a bit. Aki can taste the disappointment in the air, thick like blood.
He clenches his jaw, unsure how to navigate the situation. When he doesn’t say anything back you drop the conversation, choosing to watch the field and the sun above.
You spend the next hour or two telling Aki about the upcoming dance, and all that it entails. There were bound to be countless people, which meant countless opportunities for harm to befall you. Aki would rather die than let that happen. Whether you preferred him or not, your safety belonged to him now. It was not a decision that came lightly to Aki.
The two of you lose track of how long you’ve been out here, but he knows you can’t remain here forever.
“Ready to return, Princess?”
You flick your eyes up to him, facial expression dissatisfied but wordless. He thinks you probably want to stay out here for even longer. Aki doesn’t know how strict the King and Queen are with you yet. He imagines a little due to the fact you felt the need to sneak out here.
You stand up, stretching you arms up far above your head. “Thank you for coming with me,” you say, a small grin on your face.
Even though he was only here because it was his job, he still feels his heart flutter nonetheless. Aki follows silently as you walk back to the castle.
“I’ll have more lessons for the dance,” you murmur, giving him the details of what your day would look like. “I hope it won’t be too terribly boring for you, Sir Hayakawa.”
“I think I’ll be fine,” he reassures, giving a small smile as a way to return the kindness you had given him.
~~~
He has no idea how he got here. One second ago he was bidding you good night, then the next he was following you down the dark hall with nothing but a tiny candle in your hand to lead the way. You had asked him if he wanted a treat but he had no idea what that meant.
Aki was standing outside your bedroom keeping watch, about ready to leave for his chambers when you poked your head out of your door, a mischievous grin on your face. You wore only a thin nightgown and it made Aki’s skin hot. You offered no further explanation, only a promise that he wouldn’t regret it as he followed you in the halls.
He’s been your knight for a month yet you still find new ways to surprise him every day.
“Princess, I’m sure we could find some castle workers if we need to.” Aki starts once you reach the kitchen.
It’s empty, the remaining chefs having gone home for the day. Aki almost feels like he shouldn’t be here, like he’ll be caught any second doing something he shouldn’t be doing.
You are the Princess though, and short of the King or Queen reaching out to you then the two of you would be okay.
“No! I know a recipe,” you chuckle, digging around for a bowl. “Plus, isn’t it more fun this way?” You flash a dangerous smile towards Aki and he has to force himself to look away, lest he stare for too long.
Once you’ve gathered all the ingredients you need, you finally tell Aki that the two of you are going to be making chocolate chip cookies.
“It’s one of Kobeni’s recipes. Used to make them when I was a kid.” You tell him, tossing flour and eggs into a bowl.
He hasn’t had cookies in ages. The memory of them is like a whisper in the back of his mind. Images of a stool beneath his feet and his moms gentle hands guiding him, her voice soft as she tells him what he needs to do next.
“Are they your favorite?” He asks, eyes drawn to the way you mix ingredients.
You ponder for a moment before answering. “Yeah, I would say so. When I was little I would sneak bites of the dough too.” You say. “Do you like them Sir Hayakawa? I hope you do.”
“Yeah, I like them.” He thinks he does anyway.
“Great!” You smile before looking back down at the table.
You’re beautiful. No doubt in his mind that you were meant for royalty.
“Would you mind cutting the chocolate? I’m sure you’re much better with a knife than I.” You chuckle, the sound like a cool glass of water on Aki’s ears.
Aki smiles and agrees, beginning to chop up the chocolate into tiny pieces. The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, with you instructing Aki on what to do next. The sleeves of your night gown are rolled up clumsily and there’s a dash of flour on your cheek. Aki isn’t quite sure how that ended up there.
“Do you sneak down here often to make these?” Aki asks, watching as you get the flame ready.
It makes him a bit nervous, his fingers starting to itch wanting to stop you so he can take over. He thinks you should depend on him a little more, but he supposes that will come with time.
“I used to do it more often. Kobeni would come with me, but one night we got caught and it freaked her out so bad she refused to do it again. We didn’t get in any trouble but still…” you turn back towards him.
He can’t help but let his eyes flick down to your mouth as you talk. Aki notices how plush your lips look, how they curl around each syllable when you speak.
He’s a fool, he thinks as he pulls his eyes away from you.
You are the Princess.
Aki stirs the dough around, the final step before placing them on a pan to bake. He’s about to take the spoon out to put in the sink before you quickly stop him.
“Wait!”
He raises his brow, waiting on further instruction.
“Is it alright if I lick the spoon first?” You ask, as if he could ever say no to you. Partly for his duty, but also due to something else. Something much more hot and tingly that curls in his body if he thinks about it for too long.
Aki lifts the spoon up, holding it sideways for you to take. You don’t do that. Instead, you walk up towards him and stick your tongue out, allowing it to trail along the side of the spoon. Aki sees the way dough covers your tongue before you bring it back inside your mouth, a smile on your lips. A feeling bubbles inside his gut and he can’t look away.
“It’s so good, Sir Hayakawa! You must try it as well.”
He can’t say no to that.
Instead of getting a new utensil like a reasonable man would do, he nibbles on the opposite side of the spoon, watching you as he does it. There’s a grin on your face and the sight is sweeter than the dough on his tongue.
“That is really good, Princess.”
“I know right!”
Everything after that happens in a flash. He’s still stuck on the moment between you when the two of you form balls on the pan, before you place it into the wood stove.
You sit across each other at the table while you wait for the cookies.
“Thank you for doing this with me, I’m sure you’d rather be in bed.” You murmur, looking away from Aki.
He really cannot think of anywhere else he’d rather be.
“Of course, Princess.” He wants to tell you that he’s having fun, but the words fail him.
Once the cookies are done the two of you plate them, and share them beside candle light at the table. They’re warm and they’re tasty, the chocolate melting in Aki’s mouth as he chews them.
When he accepted the job offer he was not expecting midnight rendezvous with the Princess, but that’s what he's got, and so far he is more than happy with the arrangement.
~~~
It’s the night of the dance and light fill the ballroom, laughter and conversation bouncing off the walls. There must have been a few hundred people on the castle grounds already, which caused Aki’s nerves to tingle. He didn’t want to be too stingy, he knew it was one of your only times to truly socialize. Aki could be patient. He was good at that.
Aki waits at the bottom of a large staircase, a plush rug filling out the space below him. He was instructed to wait here while Kobeni gave you finishing touches. You had been getting ready for what felt like an hour. It seemed like an awful lot of prep in order to meet one man. The event was held specifically for Prince Kurose. He was of a neighboring nation, just as Aki had suspected. There was no animosity between your kingdom and his, but a union between the two of you would only strengthen the bond.
It had only taken a few weeks for the King's advisors to decide on which suitor would fit best. Aki was under the impression this dance was to meet all of them so you could decide, but he supposes that was wishful thinking. Unless tonight goes terribly, you were to be wed to Prince Kurose. Tonight was just a formality.
Aki notices the room get significantly quieter. There could be only one reason for that. As he turns around he notices you walking down the steps, Kobeni in tow as she holds the bottom of your dress. Stunning. Aki doesn’t blink as you descend from the stairs, your gaze locked on the crowd below. He holds the hilt of his sword tighter, admiration flowing throughout his blood stream. If he had it his way he would rush up the staircase and offer help immediately, but he needed to wait.
He’s grown fairly fond of you over the past two months. He would never admit it out loud for it would be out of place, but he quite enjoys your presence. He likes knowing he gets to protect you every day. It’s an honor. Not only that but he likes knowing he gets to see you every day. You’re more talkative than he would have figured. You’ve told him many stories since he’s arrived, and he’s memorized each and every one, locking them away in his brain to tell himself late at night when he goes to bed.
Aki’s become something more of a confidant, a friend even, although he would never say so in front of the King. First and foremost he is your knight. He knows this. Even so, he’s gotten attached.
The two of you would go to the field often. You’d take a break and sit on the grass while Aki stood several feet away, always by the tree to give you distance. Over time he slowly started inching closer and closer so he could hear you better. He reasoned he would be able to protect you more that way, but he knew it was a farce.
After a month and a half you asked him once more, “Sir Hayakawa, what’s your name?”
He looked up at the branches on the tree, only standing three feet from you now, knowing you would only keep asking. There’s no harm in telling you his name. It was more scandalous to help you undress and he had done that within hours of meeting you.
“Aki. My name is Aki.”
After speaking he looks at you once more, your eyes already glued to his form. Your fists are clenched in the grass below and there are stars in your eyes.
“Aki.” You repeat.
His name has never sounded so good before. He knows it.
“That’s correct.” Aki clears his throat, already sure that if he doesn’t he’ll ask you to repeat his name again and again.
“Could I call you that instead?” A kind Princess. A greedy Princess.
“I will not stop you.” He hopes you do.
He’s dancing a thin line between what’s appropriate and what’s not. He’s your knight. He also cares about you. It only took you forty-five days to crawl inside of his brain.
“Aki,” you say, looking up at him once you reach the foot of the stairs, dragging him back into the present.
He allows himself to smile at you. He’s only given you a handful (he tries to be serious, he really does), but each time he gives you one he means it. He means it from the bottom of his heart.
“Princess,” he greets you back, raising an arm up as an offering.
You look beautiful, he wants to state. You look more beautiful than the moon, his throat asks him to speak. I wish it was just the two of us, alone, like on the field. Don’t you wish that too, his mouth almost says.
He doesn’t utter a word.
Remember your place. Always remember your place.
You take it, gratefully and greedy, holding him close to you. Aki guides you further into the party, where you greet others as they bow to you. Aki brings you to the food tables, where drinks and treats line the area in large amounts. He hadn’t allowed himself to indulge, of course wanting to be of sound mind, but he urges you to do so if you wish.
You grab a glass, filled with what is Aki’s guess, and tilt your head back slightly to take a drink. The two of you stand there and people watch as you finish your glass, before you pick up an hor d’oeuvre. Aki stands silent as you eat, watching anyone who’s gaze lingers on you a bit too long.
“Have you heard of Prince Kurose’s arrival?” You question, passing your dirty dishes to a servant waiting to the side of a table.
“No, I have not.” Aki answers honestly. He should be here by now. “You know how the trails can be, perhaps his carriage is arriving late.”
You look uncertain when you nod. Aki notices you clenching his arm tighter in your hold. He feels a bit satisfied in the way you’re seeking him for comfort, but the feeling quickly turns to acid when he realizes how painfully selfish it is.
“You look handsome, Aki.” You say before immediately casting your gaze to the ground, as if the words fell from your mouth before you could stop them. They didn’t sound rehearsed or even elegant, they sounded real.
Aki’s cheeks tint pink and he hopes that no one can tell in the yellow light. “Thank you, Princess.”
Aki is wearing something of higher caliber. A satin shirt with matching pants with straps around his chest and thighs, along with a long black cape at his back. It took him an hour to get fitted for it, all the while Kobeni telling him he must look decent beside the Princess.
It seems a bit of a joke to him now. He knows he could never measure up to your beauty when standing next to you.
You fidget with your dress as your eyes dart about. He thinks you get nervous around loads of people, which should be ironic considering your stature.
“Are you okay?” He lets himself ask.
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You reply quickly. Aki doesn’t believe you, and he thinks you don’t believe yourself either. “I’m going to do a lap of greeting people. I should be alright, there are guards everywhere. You’re free to take a break, if you would like.”
“I’ve hardly been here long, all I've done is stand over here.” I don’t deserve a break, he thinks.
I want to be near you more. Let me be near.
“How long were you waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs?” True. “Surely you must need a drink, or the bathroom.”
He lifts his arm up, letting you tug yourself away from him. “I’ll be fine, Aki.” You reassure him.
“If you insist. I will be here though.”
“I’m sure you will.” You tease, locking eyes with Aki before you slip away into the crowd.
You intended on greeting other royals. There may even be some more suitors here as well, intent on swooping you up should Prince Kurose fail. Aki tries not to dwell on the thought for too long. He tries not to dwell on the sour taste that sits on the back of his tongue at the thought of your suitors.
Aki says hello to those that pass him and make conversation. No matter how impolite, he keeps his eyes moving across the room while talking, searching for any sign that you may need help.
“Did you hear?” A voice near him says. He strains his ears to listen.
“They’re saying the Prince is a no show,” someone else responds.
Aki finds two women talking a yard from him. They look rich, heavy gowns on their bodies while they sip something powerful.
The Prince was a no show?
That couldn’t be true, right?
That being said, it is awfully late.
“I know, I feel so bad for the Princess.” The first woman murmurs.
Aki’s feet move immediately, taking him around the room. It's crowded in some areas, so he has to squeeze by. His mind starts to race the longer he can’t locate you. Surely you were still in this room, right? Perhaps he should walk up the stairs to get a better vantage point-
Aki passes by a table with seats, noticing all but one is empty. You sit alone, eyes glued to the floor. Anger flares in his gut at the sight. Just where was Prince Kurose? Had he had something better to do?
“Princess,” Aki says softly, although part of him wanted to say your name, if only to see a smile pop up on your face.
You quickly find him, your eyes wide as saucers. It’s almost as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t have, but you haven’t done anything wrong. All you’ve done is wait up for a sorry excuse of a Prince.
“Hello, Aki.” You stand up, walking close to him.
He can smell the scents Kobeni had doused you in prior to the dance. Something sweet and delicate, just like you.
“I was looking for you.” He admits.
“I’m sorry. I was just taking a break,” you gesture to the table beside you. “Have you heard?” You ask. “They’re saying he’s not going to show. Prince Kurose, I mean.”
There’s an unrecognizable emotion on your face.
“I have. Are you okay, Princess?”
He knows the answer to that. Of course you aren’t. The Prince has made a fool of you tonight.
“Yeah. I’m…” you look over the people in the ballroom. Some are talking, others are eating, and there’s a small group in the middle swaying.
You spent all of those hours practicing for a pathetic excuse of a man.
Aki makes up his mind. He offers up a hand, eyes on yours until you hesitantly take it.
“Would you like to dance?” He asks, forcing the nerves inside his body to simmer down.
Your eyes light up and Aki decides he’s going to continue doing whatever it is he needs to in order to make it happen again.
“It would be a shame if you didn’t get to, don’t you think?” Aki says, reasoning that it’s less selfish this way. “You still should have a good night.” Princes be damned.
You smile and follow him through the crowd, allowing him to lead you. Your hand is much more softer than his in his grip, so he tries to loosen himself. Once the two of you make it to the middle, he faces you, holding his arms out in a traditional waltz position.
You eye him closely, grabbing onto him, waiting for him to lead as the man typically does.
“You know how to dance?” You question, disbelief appearing on your face.
“I may be a commoner, but I’m not a beast.” He replies, teasing.
It’s partly true. If you’ve seen half of what Aki’s done on the battlefield he wonders if you’d see him as a beast. Would you still let him near you if you knew of the damage he’s caused? Would you still let him hold you softly if you knew what his hands have done? Would you still say his name just as tenderly if you knew what he was capable of?
You laugh anyway, because you don’t know the half of it.
The music guides the two of you, and you dance. You dance. It’s easy to get lost in it, lost in the strums of music and in your smile. Aki can’t remember the last time he had this much fun. His heart thrums, but instead of fear in his veins he finds something else. Something sweeter, something softer.
The Prince never shows, and Aki is partly upset by the fact. He’s also glad that he gets this chance with you. No other suitor dares to step forward while Aki has his hands on you, and a surge of pride douses his system.
If it weren’t for all the stares Aki could delude himself into thinking this was like any other night, where statuses didn’t matter. You were just a kind beautiful woman in a dress, and he was just a man who couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
~~~
You’re quieter today. Aki wonders if it’s a result of the dance, if Kurose’s refusal to show up affected more than you led on. He wouldn’t be surprised. There were discussions happening if Prince Kurose was off the table for marriage. His reason for not showing had never been revealed. The Queen said they should look for different suitors, while the King argued that a stronger relationship with Prince Kurose’s nation was too important.
You’re sitting near him, head low as you pick at the grass. Aki can’t take his eyes off you cause he feels like he should say something, knows he should say something.
He tries to decide what would make you feel better when you speak before he gets the chance.
“Can I tell you a secret, Aki?”
Uncharted territory. This is one of those situations where he’s leaning less towards being your knight and more towards something else. He reminds himself that he’s already crossed over the line from just being your knight. Though up until now you’ve never told him a secret before, and he’ll have to decide if it’s something he must report to the King.
You’re waiting on a response.
It’s harmless by itself, and he really wants to know what you have to say.
“Of course, Princess.”
You sigh, looking forward intently as if you see something he doesn’t.
“I don’t wish to be wed.”
For all the things you could have said, he wasn’t expecting that. He hated the idea of being forced into a marriage, so he understood. Aki remains quiet to give you room to speak.
When you don’t, he opens himself up. “Now?”
“Now. To Prince Kurose.”
It made sense.
Aki wants to sit beside you to offer some form of comfort, but your safety is more important. He remains standing. “Have you talked to the King? Could they choose another suitor? I don’t think it would be unreasonable.”
“I don’t want to be married under the crown.” You answer. “I don’t want someone to choose for me.” Your voice is soft, a tinge of shame in your words.
He bites his lip because he isn’t sure what to say to that. It was custom to have the King and Queen choose a husband for their daughter. There wasn’t a way around it.
“It’s for the good of the country, I know that…” You go on. He wants you to be more selfish. “I don’t want to be shipped off to another kingdom where my voice doesn’t matter.” Where you’ll be forgotten.
Aki wonders if you might be crying, but when he looks down at you, taking a peek at the side of your face he notices that you aren’t. You have a blank stare. He realizes you do see something he doesn’t see, and that he can’t understand. You’re looking at your future.
A future where you have no bodily autonomy despite being the Queen of a nation, because you’re the Queen of a nation. Aki’s stomach feels queasy. Any words of encouragement he may have had prior to this conversation die on the tip of his tongue as he watches your shoulders deflate.
The rules of this game were set in motion far before the two of you were even conjured into existence. You were a Princess, soon to be Queen, whose duties depended on the needs of her kingdom and Aki was a knight who would return to war in one year's time, name surely to be forgotten when someone eventually gets the best of him.
“I’m sorry, Princess.” He was. He truly, truly was.
“It’s alright,” you reply, looking up towards him, a small smile playing on your lips. “I just wanted to get that off my chest. Thank you, Aki.”
“Of course.” He wishes he knew how to respond better. There must be something he can say to you.
“Is it okay if we stay out here a little bit longer?” You ask.
“Yeah,” he would give you the world and everything in it if he could, but he is just a man so he cannot, but he can stand beside you in the field for as long as you want.
~~~
It’s the middle of the night.
Aki was excused of his daily duties two hours ago, and it took him awhile to rest fully. The conversation the two of you had earlier in the day had been replaying in his mind.
He had been resting for the past hour when the screaming started. He wakes up with a jolt, reaching for the sword beside his bed in a blind panic. His room is dark, but he can see torches from outside run by his window.
Something is wrong.
He throws on a loose shirt, fumbling on his shoes while reaching for his door.
“What do we do?” Someone yells just outside Aki’s window.
Something is wrong.
He thinks he hears your name being shouted outside.
Something is wrong.
Aki can’t breathe as he runs down the hall, straight to the doors leading outside. There's a black hole where his lungs normally are as he scans the area. It’s the same area where he first met you, where the guards train. Normally it’s empty this time of night, but right now it’s filled with various castle workers and torches.
“Somebody get the King!” A handmaiden yells.
Aki’s eyes fly around to see what the commotion is about. Stay calm. It’s what he’s good at, he’s been able to stay calm during numerous wars but he can’t get his body under control right now.
He needs to find you.
Aki’s gaze follows where everyone is looking, their heads tilted back as they yell.
There you are.
You stand on the parapet, hundreds of feet up in the air. You’re wearing only your thin nightgown, a sight that would normally make Aki’s cheeks pinken but now it only causes concern because of how frigid the temperature is.
Your hair is blowing in the wind and your feet are on the edge and fuck, what the hell is going on?
Servants are trying to yell up at you but you don’t respond, your eyes in a trance as you stare at the ground below.
“Princess!” Aki yells, not a drop of sleep in his voice.
He runs closer, mind already racing with what he can do.
“Why isn’t anyone stopping her?” Someone asks beside him. “We should be able to drag her back from behind!”
“She blocked off the door!” Someone responds.
Fuck.
Could Aki scale the building in time?
There's no way.
Could he catch you?
Does he trust himself enough to catch you?
Aki swears he can see tears in your eyes as you work up the courage. He has no idea what’s going through your mind right now, but all he can focus on is the need to stop you. He makes a split second decision, turning around to run back into the castle. Castle workers run the opposite way, wanting to make a spectacle out of your decision.
Just as he had overheard, there are several guards banging on the door leading to the parapet. Once Aki rushes up the steps he sets his sword down.
“Move!” He yells.
The three guards step back with wide eyes, watching as Aki throws his whole body against the door. The side of his shoulder burns once he makes contact. You really did block it well. Aki rams himself into the door again, ears picking up on the sound of wood splitting.
He needs to get to you.
It takes two more tries before the door breaks down and Aki sees your back. It’s so high up here. This area was meant to keep watch over the entire grounds and then some. Aki runs, your form getting closer and closer. He doesn’t have time. He thinks he overhears himself shouting your name, not Princess or any form of honorific but your name.
He isn't going to make it.
As soon as he’s a foot away from yanking you back, you step off the ledge. A crowd of screams come from below. By some miracle, Aki’s able to reach out and grab your arm in time. The bricks below crush his chest as he falls forward, putting all his strength in his upper body, and he’s holding onto your arm as tight as he can while you dangle from the wall.
“Why did you do that?!” You yell, the first time Aki had ever heard any hint of anger in your voice.
There's a mixture of cheering and yells from below as the castle workers hold their breath, unsure if he’ll be able to pull you back up.
Aki would rather die than let go.
He doesn’t answer, instead choosing to focus all his power on pulling you back, ignoring the way the brick scraps at his skin.
Aki manages to lift you up, falling backwards onto his ass with you between his legs. He wraps his arms around you tight, closing his eyes as he counts his lucky stars.
You’re struggling against him, and even though his arm feels weak from holding you over the wall, he’s still strong enough to hold you down, and he takes every shove and push easily.
“Let me go!” You yell, tears flowing down your face now.
“No!” He replies, body stiff until a group of guards come rushing up the steps.
Why were you going to do that? Why did you wish to die so badly? Aki was missing a piece of the puzzle, he’s sure of it. He needs to find out just what happened to you.
~~~
It’s been several hours after your attempt, the sun having finally come up and Aki hasn’t seen you since. You had been locked in your room without visitors, only allowed to see the King and Queen along with the castle doctor. He examined you over and over to look for what was wrong, but there was nothing. You were in clean health. A sickness of the mind, he murmured to the King and Queen, voice just loud enough for Aki to hear. Aki had known all too well what that meant. He had seen others go through it multiple times over the years. He went through it himself when his family passed.
Aki’s been right outside your door the entire time, waiting on further instruction on whether or not he’s allowed into your room.
Once he finally gets permission, he can’t believe his eyes.
The King and Queen stand in your room, frowns filling their faces as they stare at you. The King is touted as being a kind man, but Aki has been hearing him yell at you for the past hour.
Something about shame, something about royal duties.
“Sir Hayakawa, we wanted to discuss the situation with you.” The King acknowledges his presence so Aki straightens his back.
“You understand that the news mustn’t get out, correct?” He goes on. “People must not find out what she tried to do.”
“It would make us look crazy.” The Queen murmurs.
Aki nearly flinches at that. She spits the word like it’s poison.
“Others will think we don’t know how to manage our daughter, and if we don’t know how to manage our daughter then how are we to manage a kingdom?” The King says. His eyes dart to you, where he lets out a sigh. “Why would you be so reckless?” He asks, the words uncaring.
It’s clear that they aren’t worried for your sake, but more for the sake of your image. They’ve never been unkind parents to Aki’s knowledge, never striking you or speaking vitriol.
The kingdom always comes first, though.
“Keep watch over her, Sir Hayakawa. Her handmaidens need a break.” The Queen speaks, looking at Aki as if she doesn’t see you in the room at all.
“Surely, Your Highness.” Aki bows as the King starts to make his exit, remaining in the position until he hears them leave the room.
You’re laid up on your bed, face devoid of any emotion as you stare at the ceiling. Your window that used to be open constantly to allow fresh air in was now sealed shut, a counter measure to ensure you didn’t make the same mistake again.
The handmaiden who had let Aki in leaves, eyes stuck on the floor as she quietly shuts the door. It’s like no one wants to look at you. Aki knows he should be the one to speak first, but he finds himself at a loss for words. What can he say? You tried to kill yourself. If Aki hadn’t been there, and he nearly wasn’t, you would have hit the ground.
“It’s good to see you again, Princess.” He decides on, because it’s true.
You turn your head slightly and look at him, and Aki has to force himself to remain still. You’re looking through him. Your face looks lifeless, almost like a painting in front of him.
“Why did you save me?” You question after awhile, your voice almost too quiet to hear.
There were many reasons.
He couldn’t stand to see another person die.
It was his job.
But above all else, because he cared for you.
He cared for you in a way he could have never seen coming.
“Because I wanted to.” He answers.
“For the kingdom?”
“For myself.”
You look distrustful at that. You look like you want to argue back, but the words just won't come to your mouth because you’re too exhausted.
It’s just the two of you, so Aki steps over and sits on a chair beside your bed. He says your name for the first time, which causes your lips to twitch. Not a smile, not by a long shot but close enough for Aki to consider it a win.
“Why did you do it, Princess?” Aki questions softly. He needs to know why so he can help you avoid it in the future.
“I knew the dance would be the last time I would fully enjoy myself.” You reply.
The dance. Where you spent nearly the entire night together.
Aki looks at you and doesn’t blink.
He should have known you were not well after hearing you talk about your secret. Hours later you stood atop the parapet, wanting to end it all.
He should have realized. The way you were talking yesterday should have tipped him off. He’s a fool. He’s supposed to be your biggest protector yet he couldn’t save you from one of the biggest threats. Yourself.
“Princess…”
“You don’t have to say anything.” You talk over him. “I know I’m being dramatic.”
He wants to tell you that you aren’t being dramatic. Every feeling you have no matter how fleeting is valid. “I don’t think you are.” Fuck, why can’t he be better at this?
You look away from him, refusing to argue but also not fully agreeing with his opinion.
Aki stays at his post beside your bed for hours, and hours turn into days. He stays by you while the doctors try nursing your mind back into health, or at least healthy enough to be concealed.
He talks more often than you do. The roles are reversed now. Instead of the field, vast and empty except your voice filling the air, it is now your room, claustrophobic with people coming in and out constantly while Aki makes conversation. He tries his best to talk as often as he can, even when you don’t respond, which you usually don’t.
“Why did you become a knight, Aki?” You ask one night.
Your eyes have a little bit more light in them. It’s been two weeks since the fateful night, and you seem to be almost on the mend.
Aki wants to say ‘I don’t know.’ It would be much easier if he did. He wouldn’t need to explain his life story, but he realized he didn’t mind if it was to you.
“When I was a child, my family got killed in a war.” He says, looking at your floor. “I never found out who did it, but I wanted to join the military to try.” It was his life’s mission in fact. “I wanted revenge.”
He didn’t admit that part of him feels like he has to. He wanted to, of course, but it also felt as though there were no other choices. He was a prisoner to it, locked down until he was able to satiate the monster inside of him. Aki realizes the two of you might be in similar situations. You’re sealed off in your room, the Princess of a nation who must attend to her duties, chained to your family name. Aki understands he’s chained to the past, a slave to his own decisions.
“Have you found it, Aki?” You ask. “Revenge.”
That’s the thing. He hasn’t.
“You must have, or else you wouldn’t have accepted the offer to be my knight.”
Why did he accept it? He’s glad he did now, of course. However, he could have easily denied the King, told him the ground needed him much more. It would have been a risky move, but the King had granted him his wishes up until this point.
If he stayed on the ground he could have continued seeking revenge for his family. Was that what he still wanted? Did he subconsciously reach a hand out when accepting this offer, his inner thoughts telling him that enough was enough?
“No,” He takes a gulp of air. “No, I didn’t find it.”
You avoid meeting his eyes and he knows he must have made it awkward. He needs to fix the situation. He needs you to know he doesn’t regret coming here.
“I’m glad I left though.” He’s being honest when he says that, even though he never thought that idea would be possible in a million years. “I’m glad I met you.”
“Don’t do that.” Your voice is soft, sadness leaking from your words.
“Do what?” He inches closer, kneeling beside your bed now.
You sit up, finally looking his way. Your brows are creased, and it looks like you have a million things to say. “Don’t say what you don’t mean.”
Aki murmurs your name and he would have thought you took a knife to the chest with the expression you make.
“I do mean it. I’m glad I became your knight.” He wants to say ‘friend’ instead, but knows he shouldn’t.
Truth be told, he saw you in a different light than just the Princess since the night the two of you shared in the kitchen.
“Have I gone Mad?” You ask. “Am I the only one who doesn’t see you like that?”
It feels like Aki is free falling.
“Do you only see me as your Princess, Aki?”
He doesn’t know how to respond. He doesn’t know how to tell you that he's been in love with you since he saw you in your old nightgown with flour on your face.
Aki whispers your name like it might slow the situation down. The two of you shouldn’t be doing this. It will cause you so much trouble.
“Aki, I’m in love with you!”
It’s just the two of you in the room. Your words bounce of the walls. If Aki had any sense left in him he would worry that someone outside would have heard your confession. He doesn’t, though. He only cares about what you said because they’ve been on his mind for months.
He’s never been good with words, so he lets his body do the talking for him.
Aki reaches over, letting his hand rest on your cheek. He brings his lips to yours and kisses you so softly it almost feels like he hasn’t made contact. Your lips taste of tea, with a hint of salt. Maybe from dried tears. You’re stunned at first, remaining still before you push into him, deepening the kiss. It’s everything Aki has wanted. He communicates his feelings to you through the seam of his mouth.
I love you.
I don’t want anyone else but you.
I would rather die than see you jump off the ledge, or marry another.
Aki spoke of your greediness to himself, even though he wanted to drink it all up. But perhaps he was more greedy than any royal, more greedy than even you.
When he pulls back and opens his eyes he finds you staring at him. “Why did you do that?” You ask, surprise etched in your features.
“I love you.” He murmurs back to you.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
You begin to cry, reaching forward to grab at him. He slides into your bed beside you and holds you against his chest, even though he knows it must be uncomfortable.
“Aki, I cannot marry Prince Kurose or anyone else.”
“I know,” He wants you to be with him instead.
“What are we going to do?” Your sobs fill the room. “We should be together,” you whisper before pulling back to look up at him. “Aki, do you want to be with me?”
“Of course I do,” he says your name softly.
“Would you run away with me?” Your eyes are filled with hope at the new idea.
Do you know what you’re saying? It would damage the rest of your life. Aki would be a traitor and his head would be wanted by the entire kingdom, but that he does not care for. He only cares for the image of you in a small house with no warm water, and an uncomfortable bed.
He wants you to have the best of the best.
Except you aren’t happy here.
He isn’t sure what to do. He wants so badly to help you and save you from this situation.
Life outside could be treacherous.
No. He can make it work. He will make it work. He will work as hard as he must to provide for you.
“Are you sure you want that?” He questions, breathless as he looks at your sparkling eyes.
“I am.” You reply. “Run away with me.”
~~~
Aki says your name when he gets to your room, each letter lighter than the last. It’s nice, saying your name. It flows off his lips so easily he would swear that he was born to say it. Not because you were the Princess of his kingdom, but because you were his.
It’s been two days since the night you decided to leave the kingdom together. Once you made up your mind your entire demeanor changed. You smiled again, more talkative with all of your handmaidens. The doctor even said you might be ready to leave your room soon.
They had no idea.
“Are you ready?” He asks, his gut telling him to turn around to ensure no one was near by, but his brain telling him not to.
He doesn’t want to look. It would be safer to check, but if he doesn’t look then no one is there. It’s not how reality works, but Aki can hope.
A giddy smile plays on your lips, your eyes lighting up. There's that smile that Aki swore he would do anything for. There’s a ratty dress on your body, a little too short but it covers all the necessary areas. He also gifted you a thick jacket to keep you heated during the night. Aki had bought both from a castle worker who had no idea they were aiding in betrayal. He wanted you to be wearing something that wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb, even though you truly ought to be wearing only the finest of clothes.
If the King were to find out what Aki planned to do, what the two of you planned to do, then he surely would have Aki’s head.
Nothing fun ever came without risks.
“Yes,” you carry nothing, Aki having told you it was better to pack lighter.
He carries several rations of food and drink, heavier on his back than any metal sword. His hand grips yours tight like he’ll lose you, even though there are torches lining the castle walls. The light dances off the two of you as you make your way into the night.
It wouldn't take the guards long to notice your absence. Aki was grateful that he knew all of their schedules, as it had greatly helped him in plotting your escape.
He hears a shuffling noise before you do, quickly yanking you back around a corner and sliding his hand over your mouth. Now he really felt like a criminal. There was no way he would risk either of you being seen.
Once the coast is clear he rushes forward, hand holding yours as he hugs the wall while making his way closer and closer to the exit. The two of you had mere minutes to do this. The plan was to slip out the back, cross over the field where you spent many hours together, and you would be free. You would have to exit the kingdom first, but once you left the field and entered into the streets neither of you would have to worry about weary eyes. The both of you would be long gone from the country before the guards even thought that you may have left the castle.
He’s looking out into the darkness, waiting to see if any torches pass by. It’s the shift change. Once he decides that it’s now or never, he holds your hand and runs out the castle, through the back door. The night is cold as it kisses Aki’s skin, perhaps to jolt him back to reality. Is he sure he wants to do this? Is he really sure he wants to do this? Once the two of you left there would be no turning back for him.
He’s never been so sure of anything in his life.
Somewhere along the way, between lush grass and whispered discussions Aki found himself deeply and irreparably in love with you. It didn’t matter that he was a knight who grew up on the streets, groomed for a life of hardship. It didn’t matter that you were a Princess, destined for a life of delicacy.
Perhaps it’s because of who you are that led the two of you to a life of love and betrayal. Not because you were wealthy and he was not, but because you taught Aki more things in the several months that he's known you than he learned his entire life. You taught him how to smile again, how to love again. He’s worth more than a life of revenge. He wants to be good for you.
It would be a more exciting tale had there been a guard who caught the two of you right as you were about to make your great escape. If guards pulled you apart from each other, where you would never see the other again.
That isn't what happened.
Instead, you and Aki are able to slip from the castle door, no one around to see your choice.
Aki’s heart is loud in his ears as the two of you travel further and further, past the field of green, not even a bird in sight.
“How are your feet?” Aki asks, looking at your side profile, your face mostly covered by the large hood you wore. He wanted to get a horse, he could not bare to see you walk the far distance he knew was ahead, but he didn’t want to draw too much attention.
“I’m okay,” he can tell you want to say his name but you don’t want to risk it while you’re still in the city, even though everyone is fast asleep in their beds. “We haven’t been walking that long.”
The shops surrounding you both are closed for the night, but Aki knows they will open up in several hours, with guards eventually walking through to warn them of the Princess’s status. All hands would be on deck, so the two of you really needed to make it out of the city before morning's first light.
On the edge of town there’s a family who raises horses for a living. You just need to make it there and it would be alright. Sure it would be a life on the run, but Aki trusted himself to be able to keep you out of the King's eye as long as you left the city.
The two of you are silent as you walk through the empty roads, knowing the kingdom isn't the largest by any means, but feeling as though the road ahead of you will never end. You keep a tight grip on Aki’s hand which calms his nerves a little, a way to show him that you want this.
His other hand keeps close contact with his sword should he need it, even though he really hoped he wouldn’t.
You finally reach your destination after an hour of walking. It’s a small house on a hill, the city looking tiny and faraway in the distance. Aki speaks in hushed tones as he exchanges a bag of gold coin for a large horse, one big enough for the two of you. Her coat is brown, and her hair is soft as silk.
Aki grins when he notices you patting her head, promising to give her an apple as soon as you’re able to get your hands on one.
You did it, you really did it.
“Are you ready?” Aki asks, his shoulders light now that the two of you have made it free.
“Of course.” You smile back.
He helps you mount the horse with ease before jumping up to get on himself. The man who sold him the horse was not able to get a good look at your face, thanks to your coat. Aki bids him farewell before taking the reins on the horse, letting her guide you both down the path away from the kingdom.
The dawn arrives, the sky’s colors muted as the horses' hooves clack against the road. It had been several hours since you escaped. Surely the guards were searching for you and Aki by now.
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because you made it. Even though you two were bound to face hardships going forward, Aki knows he will keep you safe and happy. He vowed to.
Aki has never broken a promise before, and he doesn’t plan on doing it now.
You ride off into the rest of your lives.
Tag List: @mikisspeak, @dinolvrrr, @sauki1, @reiluvr, @gothiccwhore666, @bunviixo, @slutshamethesquirrels
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there is quite literally nothing that hits the spot for me like noncon pussy eating. Wether the character is being forced to eat pussy or they're eating it without premission
I dont ship Aki with Denji or Power but the way artists of these ships draw Aki is so fucking addicting to look at i dont ever get tired of looking at their fanarts
˖ ࣪૮₍ 𝓑.𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐉𝐎 𓂃 ⭒ bounces you on his cock cause he thinks you're stupid
⤿ ꒰ he's always seen you as nothing but a stupid, pretty girl :: college au :: slight angst :: smut :: mean satoru :: degradation :: f. oral :: fingering :: riding :: dumbification :: overstimulation ꒱
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ has been your worst nightmare since highschool. belittling you, shaming you, making you feel like you were the dirt beneath his shoe. unlike other bullies, he didn't have to push you around and slam you into lockers to make your gut twist. no, all he had to do was toss you a smug smirk over his shoulder whenever your mathematics exams were handed back. his red-circled A++ crumpling your hopes into your measly B-. you thought things would be different in college.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ was nothing if not dedicated. to his valedictorian status and his relentless belittling. hell, the second you stepped foot into your quantum physics class— he scoffed. then grinned as you reluctantly made your way to the only empty seat. . . right beside him. “my, what's the bimbo doing here? daddy's money must be doing wonders.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ rolled his eyes as he passed by you in the hallway and saw you talking up a male classmate. muttering under his breath, “no wonder your grades are falling.” only to send you a wink when he catches your crestfallen look.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ was not impressed when you were both paired for an assignment together. he actively tried to protest against the professor, but soon settled for it. before you knew it, he was in your dorm and grumbling over a textbook. shuffling over his laptop with an cooing tongue click and condescending head tilt. “aww. you really don't get it, do you?” then grinned mockingly as you shook your head with big eyes and a trembling lip. “silly girl. looks like I'll be carrying us again.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ rolled his eyes when you came to him all teary because— he was right. your grades were slipping. hell, you never wanted to be in astrophysics. your parents forced you. and now here you were with a crumpled up paper in your hands and crying to your bully, begging him to tutor you. he agreed with slumped shoulders and a groaning, “fine, whatever. just don't waste my time.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ was awful the entire time, no matter how hard you tried. he'd explain things that your brain couldn't process and lecture you when you wouldn't get it. and when he had enough of your tears? he snatched your chin, thumb swiping below your eye. “stop it.” he muttered. “stop it. stop crying. you can't help that you're stupid, now can you?” and when you didn't? well. . . let's just say he was inclined to make you cry in a more pleasurable way.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ soon enough, had you sprawled over the table. textbooks and stationary strewn all over as he thumbs on the soaked fabric between your quivering thighs. creating a perfect friction against your trembling clit as you bucked and whined into him. another hand dwarfed your inner thigh as he pressed it down, keeping you wide open with a grinning, “now what did I say? keep those legs open for me. you can do that, right? not too dumb for that?”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ took great pleasure in making you pay for wasting his time. he sucked on your clit through your panties until they were drenched with his saliva and your messy cum. allowing you to grip his hair only when he yanked your panties down and latched his mean mouth onto your pussy. licking, suckling, ruining you on his tongue while he glared at you from over his glasses. “suuuchhh a slut,” he huffed, fogging his spectacles. “no wonder those grades are slipping.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ fingered you open with two long digits. lips fixed to your clit and assaulting it with his tongue as he surged you through yet another sticky orgasm. fingers slow, steady and cruel while his mouth was ravenous. switching between your slit and throbbing nub. doubling down when you clung to his hair and whimpered out his name. he wouldn't admit to how hard he throbbed when you whined it like that. instead he dragged his tongue from your slit to your clit and groaned into the stringy mess.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ leaned back into the chair and let you bounce on his cock. it was the least you could do after wasting his time, right? “stupid girl,” he huffed, swallowing a groan as he tweaked on your nipple. grinding his hips up filthily. once, twice, until you were clinging to his shoulders and humping on him like a pitiful slut. he clicked his tongue and watched as your pussy stretched. squelching and squirming all over him. “maybe you should just drop out, huh? drop out and be a slut for a living. you're better at it.” as he spanked! your ass. then gripped tight.
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ who toppled you over him when your bounces became weak grinds. hands fisting your ass and squeezing you on his thick cock as he pounded up until you were whining and drooling in his ear. leaving behind a gooey ring of cream round his base and bubbling your webbed mess all over. his name was on your lips like a lewd prayer. desperate pleas and whines as his pubic bone caught your clit with every rough slam. “just can't do anything right, can you sweetheart? fuck, stupid little girl with the prettiest pussy.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ lost himself when you creamed him for the nth time that day. a hand fixed to the back of your neck as he rolled his hips up in jagged thrust. making you whimper. squirm. and all he did? grin. “there ya go. that's it. take it. fucking. take it.”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ was not prepared for your lips crashing onto his. for your hands clinging to his hair and your whines spilling into his mouth. and most definitely not for your spluttered little: "I love you— I love you satoru— toru, toru I love you, I love you!”
꒰ BULLY NERDJO ꒱ had to leave the second he'd cleaned you up and tucked your sleeping form into bed. stumbling back to his dorm, slamming his door shut. he white knuckled the counter and hunched over. heart pounding in his ears as he replayed your words over, and over again. I love you. I love you satoru. he scrubbed a hand down his face. cupped his mouth and nose as he breathed heavily, then looked into the mirror. hair disheveled. eyes puffy. no, no, no no no no no. what the fuck did he just do?
Aki and childhood best friend! Reader in my mind are so emotionally codependent in my mind and for many years, they're basically hanging out all the time, live together and do everything together to a point where it's borderline unhealthy.
