#my requests

[axo-lolita]

Can you do Murdoc holding a mug that says #1 Dad with Noodle in the background?

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Heyy this has been on my mind since reading your polybakusquad post , like Hispanic reader and her and mina dress up sluty for Halloween , the boys get jealous they go home and get their freak on and reader is js talking in Spanish the whole time sero only understanding



KINKTOBER DAY 27: GANGBANG

Pairing: Poly!Bakusquad x Hispanic!F!Reader

Synopsis: In which you and your pretty ass girlfriend Mina get some punishments in your candy bag instead of treats when your sexy ass boyfriends decide that they don’t like all the attention your costumes are getting at a costume party and you’re fucked so good that you start speaking in your second language. Lucky for you, a certain Spanish-speaking pro is happy to fill the others in on what you’re babbling about. 

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); Poly!Pro!Bakusquad (Late 20s-Early 30s); Everyone Dates Everyone; Slutty Halloween Costumes (Angel!Reader x Devil!Mina); Jealous BFs; Sixsome/Gangbang; BF!Sero x GF!Reader Centric; Ownership; Possessive Sex; Mild BDSM; Bilingual!Reader; Bilingual!Sero; Doggy w/ 69ing; Boy on Boy (I like seeing guys kiss lol); Mild Electric Play; sub!Reader x sub!Mina; Mutual Oral; Daddy/Papi Kink; Mutual O; Everybody Cums lol

Word Count: 4.6k

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you! 

Writer's Note: This request was waaaaay too hot not to fulfill & use for a Kinktober entree. Alsoooo I’m not a native Spanish speaker AT ALL so most of this was put in a translation generator. If anything looks or sounds inaccurate, PLEASE tell me! I don’t wanna offend anyone who speaks Spanish! -Jazz

Credits: Divider made by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

“Uh-uh, stop doing that,” Sero growls, gripping your chin tight so you can look at him.  “Doing what?” you stammer. His eyes are ablaze with an irritated fire that somehow makes you wetter, squelching around his fingers.  “Speaking Spanish like no one can understand you. You ain’t slick.” 

You whimper as he curls his fingers upward inside of you, brushing your internal clit. You toss your head back into Kirishima’s broad shoulder, his beefy arms wrapped tight around you with your arms clanked down tight to your sides so you can’t move.

You sit in Kiri’s lap, your legs spread wide and your white mini skirt hiked up to expose the beginning of your white thigh-high socks, your creamy thighs, and puffy pussy oozing wetness onto Sero’s fingers. 

Kiri laughs, keeping his head back slightly to not get hit in the face by the fake, fuzzy halo on top of your head. “I knew that’s what she was doing. What, you can’t let us in on what you’re talkin’ ‘bout, slutty girl?” He pecks you on the cheek as he unwraps an arm from you to toy with your tits and hard nipples spilling out of your laced white corset. 

He is so strong and buffed up that one arm wrapped around your midsection and arms is all it takes for you to feel restricted. He chuckles, sliding his tongue down your neck as Sero kneels down to inspect your cunt further as you suck in his fingers. “Or are you feelin’ as good as Pinkie here that your brain got kicked into your second language?” 

You look over at your beautiful Mina in her devil costume, her red pleather skirt hiked up over her perfectly-round ass that she has in Bakugou’s face. His Ghostface mask is cocked up to expose his handsome face as he fingers her from behind, his thick digits plunged in her wet pussy while she sucks off Denki. 

The honey blonde-haired pro in his Pikachu onesie bites his lip as he forces his cock deeper down Mina’s throat, causing the headband where her red horns are on her head to slide down her face. Denki fixes them, tugging his zipper to his onesie down more to expose his heavy balls. “That’s it, you little devil,” he coos, toying with Mina’s tits dripping out of her red corset. “Take that fuckin’ dick. It’s what you need.” 

Mina suddenly yelps, pulling herself off of Denki’s dick coated in her red lipgloss to look back at Bakugou as he nips at her pussy with his teeth. “Fuck, Bakugou!” she whines. “That’s s-so mean!” 

He glares at her from over her ass, her red thong pulled aside to expose her dripping pussy. “Shut up,” he growls. “You’re lucky I’m even doin’ this to you. I could’ve done way worse considerin’ what you and this other slut got up to earlier.” 

He cuts his heated look over at you as you squirm in Kiri’s arms. Sero chuckles from between your thighs, his Jason hockey mask turned up so you can see his handsome face and beautiful lips pierced with snakebites. “Oh, yeeeeah, that shit at the party. I could’ve sworn Midoriya and them were gonna fuck you right on that dance floor.” 

He pauses to give your pussy an open-mouthed suck, making you gasp. You’re fairly sure that you’re leaking all over Kiri’s “Good Guy” overalls in his Chucky costume, but you know he could care less since you can feel his hard cock pressing into your ass the same way it was at the party. 

Oh, how you loved feeling that. Combined with the bubbly feeling you got from the tequila shots you did with Mina during a pregame at the house and the fruity goodness of the spiked punch that Hawks fixed for the party, it made you increasingly bold. And extremely horny. 

You and your partners were invited to Hawks’ annual costume party along with your other mutual pro hero friends. You decided to dress as a sexy angel with fake wings and all while Mina did a saucy devil. Your costumes, of course, grabbed some eyes despite your very possessive, very protective pro hero boyfriends, in addition to your dance moves. 

After a couple of cups, you were grinding against Mina and accidentally flashing your panties to a few other guys at the party. You grew incredibly social too, giggling at Hawks’ jokes, chatting with Deku about upcoming anime, and gushing over Fatgum’s cooking while he blushed. You touched Todoroki’s arm and hugged Mirio longer than necessary, complimenting his grip since he’s been in the gym lately. 

And this all made your guys mad. Very, very mad. Mad enough for Bakugou to literally carry you out of the party, much to your dismay, while Kiri scooped Mina up onto his shoulder. You knew it was coming judging by the scathing looks they would shoot you across the room for bending over and shaking your ass, practically in their friends’ faces. But all of that only made you bolder and feel even sexier than when you walked in in your white corset that pushed up your tits, white mini skirt, and red bottom pumps that your guys bought you. 

But now, here you are, paying the price for your sins. “First you and Mina try to make us jealous,” Sero tuts. “Now you’re speakin’ in your other language as if I can’t understand you.”

“Sero, no,” you whine through your glossy, trembling lips. “I-I wasn’t–” His fierce looks makes you pause. “Sorry, what?” he asks, his tone firm. You wither, your stomach flipping. “No, Papì,” you correct yourself. “I wasn’t doing that, I promise! I swear!” 

“But why the sudden change, baby girl?” Kiri coos as his cock throbs underneath you. “As hot as it is, some of your Daddies can’t understand ya. You don’t wanna talk to us?” He presses a finger to your cheek, making you turn to look at him and his fake, bloody scars on his face. 

“N-No,” you whimper. “I-I just…” You pause, unable to really piece together a proper sentence as Sero slurps on your pussy again. “You what, cutie?” Denki snickers. “You just love how you’re feelin’ right now? You just love that we’re breakin’ that pretty little brain?” 

He leans over to give your pussy a harsh smack, an electric shock buzzing from his palm onto your clit. “Ah!” you gasp, gritting your teeth at the sudden shock of pain. It only makes you wetter, much to Sero’s enjoyment. 

Bakugou huffs from behind Mina, his hands gripping her ass. “Of course, you would. You both would. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two planned this.” 

“We didn’t plan shit,” Mina grunts, spit dripping from her red lips as she glares back at the platinum blonde. “You’re the ones who said you liked our costumes.” 

SMACK! 

Both Bakugou and Denki give her ass a smack, causing her to wail. “Bratty little bitch,” Bakugou growls. 

Denki cackles, shoving his cock back into the pink-haired girl’s mouth. “S’okay, Bakugou. We can teach this one some manners all night.” He gazes down at her, rocking his hips to fuck her throat. “Somethin’ tells me she wouldn’t protest to that,” he chuckles. “Wouldya, baby girl?” Mina only whimpers in reply. 

“But you,” Bakugou says, turning his crimson eyes on you. You gulp, your mind racing. “If you’re gonna be speakin’ in that sexy second tongue, we’ve got a translator for that.” He cuts his eyes to Sero who pulls away from your pussy, smirking. “Bet,” he chuckles, roughly squeezing your ass. “Nothin’ gets me harder than hearin’ you speak my language, mami.” 

Kiri hums in agreement, nuzzling his nose into your sweet-smelling hair as both of his hands cup your tits, massaging them. “Such a sweet lil’ angel,” he coos. Sero playfully flicks one of your fake wings strapped to your back, grinning. “You had just the right costume tonight.” 

Bakugou rises from his spot behind Mina and kneels onto the bed, already working his fly open to free his big, hard, pulsing dick. “Our friends certainly thought so,” he bitterly states. “And you two liked that shit, didn’t you?” 

“No, Daddy,” you and Mina both reply in unison, only resulting in two harsh spanks on your asses from the hotheaded blonde. “Liars. We saw the way you were smilin’ in that damn Deku and Half-In-Half’s faces.” 

“Even Hitoshi seemed very interested in your costume, baby girl,” Denki adds, smacking his hard dick against Mina’s face, ever the sadist. “I’ve never seen that guy ogle a girl in his life!” 

You try to remember if all of that happened and if maybe you did give off the vibes that you were flirting with anyone other than your boyfriends, but it’s hard to remember much when you’re pumped full of booze. “W-We were just having fun, Papis (Daddies),” you moan. “We promise! We wore these costumes for you!” 

Sero holds your chin in his hand, tilting your face up to look at him. “Then you’ll have to prove it to us, pretty girl,” he whispers. “You can do that, can’t you? All it takes is you and this sexy body of yours.” You watch with one hand as he unzips his fly and peels the flap to his briefs away. 

He lets you reach inside to retrieve his hard, throbbing, veiny cock, the tip pierced with a silver ring. His smirk is wicked and almost carnal, knowing that he’s hooked you judging by your sharp intake of breath…or maybe that’s just from his fingers still slowly fucking your pussy. “Can you do that for us, mami?” 

You whimper as he rubs your clit with his palm while Kiri continues to rub your tits, gently pinching your dark brown nipples. “Sì, Papi,” you obediently reply. “I promise.” The four men smile, pleased by your submission. “Can you abide by that too, Pinkie?” Bakugou teases, slapping his cock against her pussy lips, earning a few sticky, wet sounds in response. 

Mina groans, Denki’s cock slipping out of her mouth as she jerks him off, her red nails glistening and shining against his shaft. “Y-Yes,” she stammers. “Just please, please touch me!” 

The four men laugh at her, your poor little Mina. Bakugou leans down to press an open-mouthed kiss to her ass, giving it a mere smack. “So whiny. We’re gonna have to plug that mouth up.” He crawls over to where Denki is, practically shoving the guy out of the way to replace his spot. 

You and Mina watch as Bakugou strips off his costume, exposing every inch of his perfectly muscled body, but your excitement grows when he decides to keep the mask on. “Suck me off and maybe I’ll forgive you,” he softly growls, wrapping a hand around his cock to offer Mina. She stares at it, eyes wide and her tongue jutting out to taste his tip. 

“Hang on a sec,” Denki says, his cock twitching at the sight. “I wanna taste her while she does it. Let’s test her to see if she can focus.” He pauses, winking at the platinum blonde. “She won’t. My tongue is too good.” 

You watch with interest and arousal as Denki strips off the rest of his costume, leaving himself naked too, and lies back onto the bed. Mina assumes the position, straddling his face and facing his cock while Bakugou kneels in front of her, plunging himself in her mouth. “Fuck,” he groans, grabbing a fistful of her pink curls as she gets to work, bobbing her head and slurping him up as she jerks Denki off with one of her pretty hands. 

Sero slides his fingers out of you and sucks your wetness off before Kiri dumps you onto the bed. You assume the position: all fours with your ass exposed underneath your dress. Sero strips, exposing every inch of his lean muscle and tattoos to you. He, too, keeps his hockey mask on, adding to the thrill of roleplay sex. “C’mere, mami,” he coos, beckoning you forward with his finger and his hard cock. “It’s right here for you. Come and get it.” 

Quickly, you wrap your lips around him and begin to greedily suck, sliding your mouth up and down his shaft. “Shit!” Sero swears while Bakugou lets out a long hiss of pleasure, Mina’s mouth working overtime beside you. Sero gently strokes your hair as he feeds you all of his dick, staring at you through the holes of his mask. “How does Papi taste, puta? Good?” 

At the mention of such a naughty word being uttered in Spanish, your pussy throbs and gushes around air, but is soon shown mercy when you feel Kiri’s tongue slide among your wet folds. “Mmmph!” you moan around Sero’s cock. You pop off of him, leaving a string of spit in your wake, to moan in pleasure. “Coño, por favor! (Fuck, please!)” 

“I understood that,” the redhead chuckles. “Sorry, baby. Your pussy looked like she needed some attention too.” He kneels beside the bed to cup your ass, sliding his tongue along your pussy, sucking your clit. Sero’s cock throbs as you moan around his dick, your glittery lashes fluttering. “Let her sit on your face, Kiri. I wanna see this pretty girl squirm with my dick in her mouth.” Kiri doesn’t need to be told twice, already ripping off his clothes so he can be naked too. 

Your men might as well have been demons with the way they touch, tease, and play with you. Moments later, Sero is fucking your mouth while you’re sitting on Kiri’s handsome face, his red hair cascading over the bed, as he grips your ass and laps at your pussy, thrusting his hard, veiny cock up to brush against your tits jiggling against him. 

“Coño, baby, shit!” Sero blurts, thrusting deeper into your mouth. “Gag on that shit. I love them sounds you make.” Those sounds are sloppy and wet, your throat flexing and gagging around the cock in it while Kiri slips his fat tongue inside of you, hungrily slurping up your slick arousal. 

“God, slow down, Mina,” Bakugou grunts. “You tryna suck my soul out?” Your eyes flicker to your left where Mina is in the same position as you, Bakugou’s dick in her mouth while Denki hungrily eats her pussy from below. Sero laughs, his eyes alight with lust. “Let her! That’s what she’s good for, the little cock slut.” He gives Mina’s firm ass a hard smack at the same time Denki does, causing both of her firm cheeks to jiggle. 

Then Kiri does that thing he does with his tongue–where he wiggles it just right on your clit–and your brain goes completely numb. “Mmmph mmm!” you mumble around Sero’s dick. He pulls out, groaning as he slides against your wet tongue. You take that moment to breathe properly, inhaling and exhaling. “Speak to us, baby,” he orders. 

The words that leave your mouth is a jumbled mess of Spanish as you grind your hips down into Kiri’s wonderful mouth: “Más profundo, Papi! ¡Dame más, por favor! ¡Necesito correrme, joder!”  

“What’d she say?” Bakugou softly growls, his lust-filled eyes gazing at you.  

“‘Deeper, Daddy’,” Sero translates. “‘Give me more please; I need to cum’. That’s to you, Kiri.” 

“Mmmm,” the redhead moans from underneath you, pawing at your soft, luscious asscheeks, prying them apart so he can get more of your hole. “You’ve gotta work for it then, mama. Grind on my face and take Sero’s cock.” 

You do exactly that, sucking Sero off like it’s your job as you ride Kiri’s face, making him disappear beneath your ass. But he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Sero tosses his head back and groans to the ceiling as you work him with your mouth, your blowjob growing sloppier and wetter, drool dripping down your mouth and onto Kiri’s cock. “That’s it, mamìta, fuck,” he groans. “Coño, your mouth is good.” 

Bakugou laughs, still fucking Mina’s mouth off of its hinges. “Now that I understood,” he cackles. “These whores know better than to give poor blowjobs. Right, Pinkie?” He pulls himself out of Mina’s mouth, slapping it up against her wet tongue. “Yes, Daddies,” she pants. “Only for you.” 

“Only for you,” you repeat in Spanish. You peer up at Sero and Bakugou, hoping they see the want, need, and utter adoration glistening in your tear-filled eyes. You feel Sero’s cock grow harder against your cheek and you nuzzle your face against his tip, making him groan. 

Bakugou cocks his mask over his head, showing you his wicked grin. “Then it’s time to fuck.” The vulgar word coming from his soft lips, pierced with a lip ring, sends shivers through you. “You two stay right where you are.” He reaches over and gives Kiri a hard smack on his thigh. “You two extras stay down there too. We need those pussies nice n’ open.” 

You shiver and shudder in pleasure as Kiri continues to lap at your cunt, wrapping his arms around your waist to clamp your ass down onto his face. Sero watches with interest as you make the cutest faces, whispering to yourself in Spanish. “Mmm-hmm, and your tongue looks like it’s doing the trick, Kirishima.” 

Kiri moans into your pretty hole before pulling away, his lips and chin wet with your juices. “Yeah? You like it when Daddy eats that slutty pussy?” His raspy voice is like an aphrodisiac for you, making your pussy gush before he dives back in, shoving his tongue deep inside of you. “S-Sì! Sì, I do, Papi!” you cry out, shamelessly riding his face. Mina does the same, grinding herself down into Denki’s mouth as he gives her spanks here and there, sparks of electricity leaving his fingertips to zap her. 

Sero taps his finger against your chin and bends down to give you a kiss. “You’ll like this even more,” he murmurs before he crawls over the bed and settles behind you, prepared to sink his cock inside of you. He takes your hips in his hands, making you shudder in anticipation. “Ready when you are, Bakugou.” 

You don’t miss the teasing lilt in his voice and neither does Bakugou. 

“Fuck off! I had to get her situated.” He has gotten behind Mina as well, leaving Denki to lay beneath her pussy and Bakugou’s heavy balls…not that he’s complaining. Neither is Kiri from his spot–in fact, he has started to swirl his tongue between you and Sero, licking his balls and dipping inside of your hole. 

“Don’t you two move an inch,” Bakugou growls, gripping Mina’s ass as he slaps his cock against her pussy completely hands free. This is exactly what you two sluts wanted.” Sero slaps his cock against your wanton pussy at the same time as you, causing sparks of electric pleasure to zing through you. 

“Papi, por fãvor (Daddy, please),” you beg, looking at him over your shoulder. “Fuck me.” That is all the begging Sero needs for the lust to take over and for his tip to slide inside of you. 

When both Sero and Bakugou slam home into you and Mina at the same time, it seems that your pleasure is shared through some invisible thread between you. You both moan out and look for something to grip–you grip the sheets while Mina grips Denki’s thighs–as you are both fucked absolutely stupid, all thoughts, logic, and sense completely knocked out of your heads by the two fat dicks fucking you. 

In time with Sero’s fucking, Kiri’s tongue slurps you up from below, making your pussy sloppier and wetter, allowing for Sero to fuck you as hard and as rough as he wants to. Once he is in deep, so deep that you can almost feel him in your stomach, your moans grow louder, causing Kiri’s cock to grow harder in your face, damn near pulsing. 

“Theeeere we go,” Sero draws, slamming you back into him, watching your ass jiggle against him. “Does Papì’s cock feel good, baby? Dime. Sólo yo (Tell me. Just me).”

His voice becomes a lot deeper and raspier when he speaks Spanish, all the more persuasion for you to continue to lose your shit. “¡Sí, papi, joder, sí! ¡Me encanta tu polla! (Y-Yes, Papì, fuck yes! I love your cock so much!)” Your words are jumbled and loud, the English language taking the backburner. 

Sero presses his mouth against your ear as he trails up your neck, peppering it in wet kisses. “Lo sé, nena. Sé que tu coño necesita toda esta polla (I know you do, baby. I know your pussy needs all of this dick).” He places one foot up on the bed and nails his hips against you, the smack of your ass against his thighs filling the bedroom. 

“Hey,” Bakugou barks. He is still fucking a moaning and whining Mina stupid, her pretty, pink pussy sliding down his cock. “Quit excludin’ us from your dirty talk. What’s she sayin’?” 

Sero smirks, giving you a wink. “How much she just looooves me inside of her. How good I’m rearrangin’ those insides.” He gives your ass a smack before slamming into you more, putting his back into making your pussy squelch around him. “Ah!” you gasp. “Fóllame! (Fuck me!)” 

“‘Fuck me’, she said,” Sero chuckles. The honeyed blonde lying beneath Mina and fucking her tits pulls away from her pussy. “You ain’t been fucked yet, cutie,” Denki snickers from his spot below Mina’s perfectly round ass. “Don’t you worry. I’ll make you speak all types of languages once I’m inside you.” 

The redhead pulls away from licking you and Sero up to, just enough to breathe. “Is that a challenge, Kaminari?” Kiri asks from underneath you. “Not to toot my own horn, but you’re actin’ like these two don’t cry and beg for me when I’m fuckin’ them.” 

Bakugou growls at this, his eyes ablaze as he continues to roughly fuck Mina into the bed, gripping her hips and keeping her in all fours. “All of you extras are delusional. I’ll fuckin’ show you.” 

You shiver in anticipation of that. That means you get all four cocks from your boyfriends tonight. “Ah-ah, Katsuki,” Kiri tuts. “We take turns, remember? Let Sero show us what he’s got. Plus, I kinda like hearin’ this one talk in a different language.” 

Denki lazily watches you from afar as he toys with Mina’s clit with his fingers. “Mmm, me too. That shit is too hot.” 

Sero grins, pressing his face into the crook of your neck as he goes faster, harder, giving you all of the dick that you can take. “Go on, mamì, talk more for us. Ride Kiri’s tongue and take my cock.” You nod, delirious with the ecstasy your boyfriends are serving you on a silver platter. “Yes, Papì. I promise I will. Then you dip your head down and give Kiri some very sloppy head and deep deepthroat as Sero fucks you from behind. 

“Good girl,” Bakugou praises you, watching you take both dicks like it’s nothing. “You open that mouth up too, baby girl.” He holds Mina’s cheeks in his hand, squeezing her chin. “Yes, Daddy,” she moans. “But I think Y/N sounds a lot cuter.” 

SMACK! 

Mina yelps as Bakugou’s hand comes down hard on her ass, causing the firm cheeks to jiggle in response. “You both sound fuckin’ cute,” Bakugou growls. “Now open your mouth and let us hear you.” And she listens, letting her voice out in loud moans, whines, and gasps that mirror yours until your sounds, the creaking from the bedsprings, and Kiri and Denki’s sloppy tongue swirls and flicks against your pussies create a symphony of sex. 

It doesn’t take long for that knot in your core to get tighter. The more Sero fucks you and the more Kiri sucks on your clit, the more you feel the urge to cum rising to the surface. Kiri’s cock grows harder in your mouth, only adding to your arousal. You just love a big dick in your mouth and pussy at the same time. You love the way they feel swelling and throbbing in your holes, closing to blowing their loads. 

You completely lose the rest of your mind as your body winds tighter and tighter in anticipation of your intense orgasm. “¡Dios mío! ¡Me voy a correr! (Oh, my God! I’m gonna cum!)” you wail in time with Sero’s thrusts and the shaking of the bed. 

“Oooo, I know what that means,” Kiri chuckles. “Sounds like someone’s gonna cum.” Sero grunts in response, his hand circling your throat to squeeze it the way you like. “Is that true, baby? You’re gonna cum all over my cock?” 

“Si!” you whine. “Si, si, yes!” You need it. You crave to cream all over your boyfriends’ cock and mouth, drenching them in it. Sero presses his lips to your ear, the scent of his cologne drenching your skin and filling your nostrils. “Do it then, mi amor (my love). Ven para mi (Cum for me).” 

You whine in response, desperate and needy, just as Mina is as she takes all of Bakugou’s harsh fucking in doggy, his big hands gripping her slim hips. “Fuck, I’m cumming too!” she cries out, tossing her ass back into Bakugou’s cock. “Please, ‘Suki, make me cum! Please, Daddy!” 

The platinum blonde groans at her sweet begging, wrapping his hand around her throat as well to choke her as her orgasm comes. “You’re lucky I like you beggin’,” he growls. “Fuckin’ cum for me then. Just for me.” 

You go back to sucking Kiri off in an effort to make him cum too just as Sero’s thrusts grow faster and rougher, his moans growing louder and more intense. “Ven para mi, ven para mi, Ven para mi,” he grunts, gradually growing more intense as he thrusts inside of you. 

Finally, you reach the point of no return and your entire body shudders as you finally orgasm. When you cum, you do it hard. Your muscles tighten and your pussy quivers as you cum on Sero’s cock, some of it dripping into Kiri’s mouth. The two of them cum too, Sero groaning as he fills you up while Kiri moans into your pussy, gripping you tight as his cock explodes in your throat, filling it with loads of his creamy spunk. 

You tick your eyes over to your other partners where you find Mina shuddering as she cums, her eyelids fluttering and her golden eyes rolled back to her skull. Bakugou lets out a guttural groan as he cums deep inside of her, holding her firm against his pelvis. Denki has cum too, completely hands and mouth free, his spunk spurting onto Mina’s tits and stomach as he whines and whimpers into her pussy and against Bakugou’s heavy balls. 

Sero peppers your cheek in kisses, his thrusts growing slow and sloppy as his orgasm drains in. “¡Muy bien! ¡Qué buena chica para mí! (Very good! Such a good girl for me!)” he brightly praises, causing you to smile. Slowly, he pulls out of you and you roll off of Kiri who greedily presses his lips soaked in your cum to Sero’s mouth. 

Denki does the same thing with Bakugou, the two of them sharing Mina’s cum as they kiss. You use that time to watch as you lay side by side with Mina, exhausted, satisfied, and coated in cum. 

“Get some rest now, babies,” Kiri coos, giving you both a chaste kiss on your lips. “You’ll need it for later.”  

The four of them grin at you and Mina like they are straight up horror movie villains, making your stomach flip and your pussy twitch. Bakugou grips both of your chins in his big hands, his crimson eyes drilling you to the spot. 

“So are you gonna be a good girl and let us have our fun with you too?” he asks. Mina, too winded to speak, only nods. 

But you manage to speak: “Si, Papis,” you reply with a sultry smile. “I promise.” 

THE END.

[girl-celestial]

What about some angsty post-break up, lingering feelings stuff between Arthur and reader? Maybe they get back together, but who knows!

Just a Handkerchief

Reader Requested ♡ — thank youu so much for sending this. i really enjoyed writing it for you! it means a lot that you took the time to share your idea with me, and i hope yearning arthur is all you wished for!!!!!!

ARTHUR MORGAN X READER, angst and heartbreak. yearning and desire. arthur’s desperate lol. fixing of relationship? sorta. 700+ words

YOU hadn’t even realized Arthur was back.

He’d been gone only a few weeks, sent off on one of Dutch’s jobs. Not so long you could forget him, but long enough to notice the space he left behind.

No one had said a word when he rode in, and maybe that was because he didn’t seek you out. Why would he? You weren’t together anymore.

So you kept yourself busy at camp, quietly tending to small tasks and avoiding the ache of waiting. Pretending you didn’t care.

Later that night, when the fire had dimmed and most had turned in, you found yourself near the horses, breathing in the cool night air.

And there he was—sitting on a log, rolling a cigarette slowly, his silhouette framed by the moonlight.

He didn’t look up as you approached, didn’t move. Just sat there, still and quiet.

“You’re back,” you said softly, folding your hands in front of you, trying to steady your voice.

His eyes met yours then, tired but steady. “Yeah. Dutch sent me out quick after Rhodes.”

You nodded, swallowing the flutter in your chest. “You didn’t have to take that job.”

He shrugged gently. “Not much choice in that.”

“No,” you whispered. “You never do.”

The silence between you stretched, heavy and fragile. Your fingers twined nervously.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

“Still here,” you replied, offering a small, sad smile.

Arthur shifted, glancing down at his hands. “I brought you something.”

Curious, you raised your brow. “Why?”

From his saddlebag, he pulled a handkerchief—white, edged with delicate blue stitching.

“Saw it and thought of you.”

You took it with trembling fingers, your skin brushing his. His hand was warm against yours.

“You didn’t write,” you murmured, eyes downcast.

“I thought you didn’t want me to.” He paused for a moment and his jaw tightened, “I thought I was doin’ right by you.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, a hint of bitterness in your tone.

He stood slowly, hesitating, but not stepping closer.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said. “Figured lettin’ go was kinder.”

“Kinder than what? Staying? Trying?”

His eyes dropped away.

“I thought about you every day,” he said, voice rough with honesty. “Even when it tore me up.”

You swallowed hard, your heart fluttering despite yourself.

Then, before you could think, he stepped closer.

You should have moved back. But you didn’t.

He was near enough now to see the lines beneath his eyes, to feel the weight he carried. His gaze flickered to your lips, then back.

“You look real pretty tonight,” he said quietly, rough around the edges.

You said nothing.

His hands found your waist, pulling you close with a sudden urgency. You gasped softly, your hands resting lightly on his chest, but he didn’t let go.

His breath brushed your neck, warm and uneven.

“I shouldn’t…” he muttered, voice thick, before his lips pressed to the side of your throat—slow, firm, tracing your pulse with a hunger that made your knees weak.

Not gentle. Not soft. Like a man wrestling with himself to hold back but losing.

You shivered, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His stubble scratched tender skin.

“I shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he murmured again, voice trembling with need. “But I can’t stop thinkin’ ‘bout you… what you smell like… how you taste…”

His kisses traveled lower, teeth grazing, hands tightening at your waist, pulling you flush against him. His desperation was raw, unfiltered, like he was making up for every night apart.

Your body softened instinctively, leaning into him, hands clutching his back like you never wanted to let go.

His lips moved from your neck to your jaw, the heat of him burning through every wall you’d built.

You didn’t stop him.

Because you missed him just as much.

Tonight, neither of you had the strength to fight it anymore.

[f0xglover]

i love your writing SO MUCHH

I was wondering if you could write something for Billy that I saw somewhere as a prompt. Basically it said that he was the type to put his cigarette out on you, and that he would also be the type to lick the burn mark right after and praise you HWGEHCVAJEJFHDJSJ

OoOooOoOoooooooo YES let’s do that!!! I feel like Billy probably would do a whole bunch of painful little dirty things to you. He probably likes having it done to himself, too, tbh. Our man is a little kinky pain deviant and we love him for it. He’s received so much bad pain we just want him to feel good with it okeyyy <33

Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Billy thinks he needs to teach you a lesson after you give him attitude.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female! Reader

Warnings!: 18+!!!! Pain and such with sex!!

“It wasn’t even that expensive.” You complained, crossing your arms as you both walked out of the mall to his car. You had stopped to look at a purse, gushing over it, animated and excited at how cute it was. Billy had simply stood behind you boredly waiting for you to be finished. When you checked the price tag you put on your signature pout and looked at him, but he laughed and dragged you out of the store.

“I’m not buying you a purse. I’m not your bitch.” He pulled the cigarettes out of his back pocket, smacking the bottom, not caring that you were cold and didn’t want to wait for him to smoke them.

You ruffled your nose, like you could smell the thing before he even lit it. “Can you at least wait until after you drop me home? If you smoke that thing in the car I’m going to reek.”

Billy shot you a look, annoyance clear on his face. He could be really sweet sometimes, even downright lovesick with you, but right now was not one of those moments. Usually, those moments were private. Just between you two. You would tell your friends ‘you don’t get it, you don’t see what he’s like when we’re alone’ and they’d roll their eyes and not believe you, but it was the truth.

He would play with your hair. Cuddle you. He would take your fuzzy socks and put them on his hands to warm them up before putting them on your feet. He’d give you forehead kisses, hand squeezes, shoulder rubs.

Honestly, he was the best boyfriend you might’ve ever had.

As he opens the car door for you (such a gentlemen) he gives your ass a hard smack before shutting the door as you sit. You let out a small squeal at the contact.

He might’ve been the sweetest boyfriend, but he was also the roughest.

Sure he was a softie whenever you guys were alone, but when it came to your more…intimate moments, he had a thing for…well, some light pain.

It had started off innocently enough. Ass smacks were the norm. They were light and playful in the beginning but now they were with force. A smack that would send your cheeks jiggling, leave you red. Then, there was the yanking. That had been simple, too. He’d grab you and toss you on the bed. Shove you against walls. Soon it went to your hair. Yanking it back when he took you doggy style, or knotting it in his knuckles when you sucked him off.

Little nips with his teeth turned into full bite marks on skin.

Light touches turned to fingerprints.

Sometimes after he’d finish inside you, you wouldn’t be able to move. He’d help you sip from a water bottle, clean you up himself, cradle you in his arms like a limp broken doll.

All this to say, you loved it.

There was no denial in that.

You didn’t tell your closest friends for fear of judgment, but you knew they’d worried. When they saw the marks he left behind, you would just laugh it off. He wasn’t hurting you. He was giving you more pleasure than you’d ever fucking known.

When he pummeled into you with everything he had you begged for more, for harder, for rougher. When he grabbed your hair you wanted it ripped from your head.

You were the one who first asked him to start choking you.

Sometimes when you were drunk he’d shove it in without lube or anything - just relying on how wet you were - and you saw stars every single time. The way he wouldn’t prep, how he would just thrust into you full force.

“My good girl.” He’d praise, grabbing your hair, alternating between stroking and yanking. “Always ready for me, huh? Take me so fucking good, squeezing my cock like you’re a damn python.”

You could never dirty talk as well as him because you were always too blissed out, cock drunk, to reply.

Now though, he was driving you home.

And he hadn’t bought you the purse.

And you were annoyed at the way he said he wasn’t your bitch.

So you were already in a bit of a mood.

When he pulled into the driveway you got out of the car and slammed the door behind you without so much as a word. Of course this was deliberately to piss him off, to start a fight. You were suppose to thank him when he drove you home, kiss him goodbye, be sweet and docile.

But you lived to rile him up.

Truthfully, maybe you weren’t the best for him.

You liked him mean.

You heard him slam his car door shut too, and in a flash, he grabbed you and pulled you around to face him. “Oh we’re doing this, are we?” His voice was how you liked it. Twisted, pissed off. “You just going to go run into your room and cry because I didn’t buy you some ugly little purse?”

“It wasn’t ugly. And I thought you weren't my bitc-” but you can’t finish, he’s squeezing your cheeks hard, pushing your lips into a pout, being rough and rude.

“Shut up. I’ll let you talk when I want you to talk.” He let go, pushing you back toward the front door. You shot him a look but went to unlock it and suddenly, he gave chase. He started rushing you up the stairs. You nearly tripped, heart racing. “Get up there, you little slut!” He barked, and you felt the familiar panic and thrill of the game you two played rising up inside you.

You ran into your room, jumping onto your bed on your knees and turning to look at him as he burst into the room behind you.

He looked you up and down. You know he liked you like this. A part of you that only he got. Obedient, submissive, his. You didn’t hesitate in sitting back, taking your shoes off. 

You liked keeping things clean, neat, orderly. No shoes on the bed, one of your little rules. You leaned off the mattress to put them gently aside and he laughed. “What?” You asked, daring him to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches for his cigarette pack in the back of his jeans and pulls it out again. “Uh, no. No way. You are not smoking in here.” You sat up to come over and take it from him but with a firm shove of one hand he knocked you back down onto the bed.

“Take off your clothes.” He said casually, putting the cigarette to his lips and immediately lighting it.

“Billy-!”

“Don’t make me say it again.” His eyes were blazing. Icy blue. Violence hidden in the quiet depths as he waited for you to comply. He knew you would. You always did. Because you were his. His to use how he saw fit.

You could see it. The thoughts brewing. The insanity looming.

He became like this right before you two would fuck.

Deranged.

Unlike himself.

Unlike anything you were used to.

As much as you did genuinely dislike him smoking in your room, you listened. You reached down for the hem of your shirt, about to pull it over head when his voice barked in an order again. “Slowly.” He commanded as he took a step toward you on the bed, making your hand still as you looked at him. “I want you to make it good for me…strip like the little slut I know you are.” He took a long drag of the cigarette, inhaling deeply before blowing the smoke in your face, relishing in the way you recoiled.

You wanted to curse him off. You were pissed he was smoking in your room. Pissed that he hadn’t bought you that purse. Pissed at how he kept calling you a slut...even if deep down you liked it.

Instead, you did just as he said. Your hand moved back to the hem, touching it lightly. Your eyes were locked on him, and his were locked on your body as you slowly pulled the shirt up a little higher, taking your time to let your fingers graze against your skin as you did.

When you removed it fully, you tossed it at his feet, and he just quirked a smile. “Keep going.”

Next was your socks. Knee high. You stretched one leg out, rolling it down. Then the other.

You didn’t need to be told what next as you reached behind and unzipped your skirt. You shifted up your hips to pull it down and then laid back on the bed, breathing heavy as he watched you.

He leisurely climbed onto the bed, towering over you, cigarette still in hand. He looked down at your arm, could see the goosebumps there, and it only seemed to turn him on more - the bulge in his jeans threatening to burst. “Don't worry, baby.” His voice was mockingly soft. “You have nothing to be scared of. I know how much you love the way I fucking ruin you, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

His hand holding the cigarette went to your shoulder, touching your bra strap then slowly moving across to trace against your collarbone. It was dangerously close to your skin now, the smoke trailing up to your nose, the glowing embers looking like they may fall onto you at any moment. “I think you need to learn a lesson.” He flicked the ash from the cigarette onto the bedspread, watching as it sizzled and burned a small hole in the fabric. You’re eyes widened at the audacity, at the lunacy, but you were too entranced in him to call him out on it as he damaged your belongings.

“A lesson?” You said, managing to find the words.

He took another drag, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before blowing it gently against your cheek as you coughed. “For trying to get me to buy your affection. For acting like a brat and slamming my car door.” His nose nuzzled your cheek now sadistically. “You know I don’t need to spend a fucking dime to get you to spread those pretty legs for me.”

As his free hand went down your waist and hips, you parted your thighs obediently for him, just like he said. You were so wet already, laying here bare in just your bra and panties as he taunted you and defied you.

He moved back to look at you, spread out for him. He took another pull of the cigarette as the white paper started to grow smaller, while his hard on seemed to grow bigger. His hand reached out, touching you through your panties as he groaned with you, feeling your wetness, knowing that even through the fear, your body still craved his touch. “See, your pretty little cunt is already responding.” He growled, stroking you through the fabric, feeling your body clench and flutter around his palm. “It knows who it belongs to, even if the rest of you is too stupid to realize it.”

“Billy…” You closed your eyes as you tried to rock against his hand. You loved foreplay, but right now you just wanted him. You didn’t want this torture anymore, this waiting.

“Tell me who you belong to, babe.” He growled as his hand kept teasing her. “Tell me who owns this tight little cunt.”

You opened your eyes just enough to see him holding the cigarette up and letting the embers glow brighter for a moment, almost like he was transfixed. You let out a tiny whine, head falling to the side, closing your eyes again. “You. It belongs to you. I belong to you. All of me, Billy. Don’t need a purse.”

His hand finds your clit and presses down on the spot, rubbing as you moan. “You’re right.” His voice said, oddly calm. “And that’s why you need to be put in your place.” He hissed, before removing his hand from your cunt and pressing the glowing tip of the cigarette against the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

Your eyes shot open as you yelped, body trying to jerk and move but he held your leg down as he branded you, watching as her skin sizzled and blistered, the smell of burning flesh filling the air. You could see him pressing the tip of the filter into your leg, could see how he reveled in your pained cry and the way your body jerked and bucked beneath him, trying to escape the searing heat.

"Billy, what the fuck!" You cried out in pain as your thigh burned. Maybe this was too far. He'd never burned you before, not even with candle wax. Now? Now he had put a cigarette out on your skin.

He yanked his hand back in a quick motion, crushing and discarding the remainder of the cigarette onto your nightstand as he looked down at the red welt he left behind. His hand drifted down to your thigh, his fingers tracing over the angry red welt left in it’s wake, leaving you cursing out and bucking again.

You were twisting, eyes watery, looking down to try to see the damage but his body was obstructing your view. It was burning, stinging like a cruel sharp reminder. You held back the tears from the pain, your core still wet despite it all, maybe even more soaked now in some sick way.

You didn't want your tears to spill over. You wanted to be able to take it, take all the fucked up things he gave you, show him how good you could be.

Billy moved his head down to your thigh, examining the wound. “Look at this pretty little mark, baby. It's like a brand, a tattoo, a permanent reminder.” He brought his hand to his mouth, blowing cool air over the wound before pressing his lips to your skin, kissing it gently, almost reverently. You winced, body recoiling at the contact, which only spurred him on more as he spoke against the wound. “I just needed to remind you that you don’t get to call the shots. You don’t get to be in control.” He purred, his voice a low, seductive rumble. “I’m the one with the power of you.” Then, he leaned down, his tongue flicking out to lap at the blistered, abused skin of your thigh.

You moaned loudly, from the back of your throat, unable to resist the fucked up torture of his tongue against your burn. The wet saliva was a cool sensation, dulling the pain for just a moment. His lips moved, pressing soft kisses around the reddened skin of the surrounding area, his tongue flicking out to trace the blistered edges of the cigarette burn for a second more. “You're my good girl, aren't you? You can take so much for me.” He praised, his voice low and warm, like honey dripping from his lips.

“Hurts. Fuck, Billy, it fucking hurts.”

He shh’d you, going back to the spot. He licked, sucked, made your eyes cross and made you feel like you were about to faint, but just as you almost lost yourself you felt him pull forward over you - capturing your lips, kissing you so hard it hurt, his tongue diving into your mouth and demanding more of you.

He must have been able to sense your confusion and fear, but he could also feel your arousal, the way your body was responding to his touch despite the pain he just inflicted.

You were getting off on this. On being dominated. On being branded.

He smirked, knowing that despite it all, you were still craving him. His approval, his touch, his love.

You watched with drowsy, half-lidded eyes as he shimmied his jeans lower, cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. “Shh, baby, shh.” You hadn’t even realized you had let a tear fall, that you were whimpering. His hand pulled your jaw forward, kissing your cheek, tasting the salt of the tear that had spilt. He stroked your hair, looking at you with love now instead of the sadistic expression he had worn only moments ago. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know it hurts. I’m so fucking proud of you being able to take it.” He leaned in, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your forehead, then finally to your lips. “My perfect little pain slut, so eager to please her man.” He whispered into you. "I'm going to make it all better now. I promise." He murmured, his hand sliding up your thigh, over your hip, and then dipping between your legs again.

He could feel the heat radiating from your core, the way your panties were soaked through worse than before. “Fuck, baby, you're so fucking wet. You're getting off on this, aren't you? On being punished? On me calling you names?” He shoved your panties to the side, his fingers delving into your slick folds.

You let out a moan and lifted your legs to wrap around him more, the mark still stinging harshly with each tiny movement. He could feel your wetness, could hear the obscene sound of your arousal as he drove into you again and again with his fingers. But he also saw the way your body reacted to him, the way your core still ached with a desperate, needy hunger. He pumped his fingers faster, harder, his thumb grinding against your sweet spot, leaving you a moaning, writhing mess before he suddenly stopped - feeling like you were so close and he just was tormenting you more by denying you the orgasm you needed.

He picked up your bent leg, squeezing the tender flesh your thigh, just above where he had branded you. “You're being such a good girl for me.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the skin. “My perfect little fucktoy.” He rasped, pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to your stinging skin again, his tongue flicking out to soothe the angry red mark. He knew you needed him, needed the twisted mix of pleasure and pain that only he could give you.

“Billy. Please…” You felt exhausted. Your head was doing laps to keep up with the mental gymnastics of somehow being so ridiculously horny over your boyfriend wounding you and then making out with the bruise. “Please. Need you.”

He let your leg drop down and moved from your thigh to your breasts, pulling the bra down, his teeth and tongue lavishing attention on the soft mounds, biting and sucking until he left angry red marks blooming across.

More marks.

As if the burn alone wasn’t enough.

He could feel you trembling beneath him, could hear the hitch in her breath as you fought back tears. But he didn't stop, didn't slow down.

His hands roamed your body, caressing and stroking your curves, worshipping every inch of you like he knew you craved. He caged you in, settling his weight between your thighs, the thick line of his cock nestling against your center. He rolled his hips against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked core. “I'm going to make you feel so much better, baby. I'm going to fuck this pain away, fuck you until you can't think of anything but me. Until all you can remember is the feeling of my cock splitting you open.”

Your eyes were closed, head back, but you swear you could tell he was smiling.

You couldn’t wait anymore, couldn’t be patient. You felt like if you didn't feel him inside you, you would die, seize to exist. "Now. Fuck. Please." You moaned, nails going into his skin, your back arching. “Fuck me, Billy.”

He laughed darkly, yanking your panties down, mangling them and almost ripping them at the way he pried them from you. “Fuck. Listen to you, begging so pretty for my cock.” You knew his ego was swelling. It always did. Easy to inflate. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He grabbed at your hips, pulling you down and lining up against you before slamming into you with one brutal thrust, making you cry out. He buried himself deep inside you, as far as he could go, just savoring it as he felt your tight walls clenching around him.

Then he started to move.

Each thrust was punishing, powerful. He pounded into you relentlessly, the bed creaking, shaking against the carpet. The room was filled with the sounds of both of you. Skin against skin. Moans, grunts, muffled swears under breaths. Your thigh still burned, but now the rest of you felt like it was on fire, too.

He leaned down, kissing you fiercely, sloppily as he continued to fuck you roughly. “That’s it. Fuck. Take it.” He panted against your lips. “Take it like the good little slut you are for me.” He reached down, finding your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight, rough circles. He could feel you tightening, your body tensing as he fucked you harder, deeper.

You were already on the edge. All the actions from before already had you close, but now, the way he was talking and using you were making you feel dizzy with need.

He could tell.

Could always tell.

He reached up, wrapping his hand around your throat, squeezing lightly. Not enough to cut off your air, but enough to push you over, to give you what you needed. “Cum for me.” he demanded, his voice a low, dominant growl. “Cum all over your man's fucking cock. Let me feel that tight little cunt spasm and milk me fucking dry.” Your breath was coming in short gasps, legs starting to shake.

Your release hit you in a rush. Your nails dug into his skin as you cried out. He let out a long groan in response as he felt you come undone against him. He thrust into you hard still, fucking you through your high. “That’s my good girl.” He grunted, his rhythm growing erratic as he approached the edge with you.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and let go.

“FUCK!” He yelled out, his cock spasming and pulsating inside you, painting you with his release, making you moan out again as you felt like you were close to blacking out completely. He groaned long and low as he filled you, and then with a shuddering heavy sigh he collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress.

“Fuck, babe.” He nuzzled into your neck, breathing in the scent of the sweat on your skin, his softening cock still buried inside you. “I fucking love you,” he murmured, his voice soft and sated. "I fucking love you, baby. I love you so goddamn much."

He rolled you both over, limbs tangled a bit as he slid out, his cum dripping out with him as you made a pained noise from the bruise still on your thigh. “I love you, too, you asshole.” You croaked, voice dry and spent.

He pulled you against his chest, kissing your head, stroking your hair.

You both laid there, exhausted. You knew he’d start cleaning you up in a second. Taking care of you. Hydrating you. Making you food.

But for now, you both tried to take a moment to absorb all that happened, the afterglow buzzing throughout you both.

Your messy hair splayed against his chest as you looked up at him. “What are you thinking?” You asked quietly.

“I’m thinking we go back to the mall tomorrow.” He said, looking down at the burn mark on your leg. “I think you earned yourself that purse after all.”

[nekfores]

— all my requests from telegram with cookies.

[levanswrites]

Are you taking requests or ideas? 😭💕

Because Steve taking the reader in the wsqk van. I have a feral need and I’m sure others do to.

Your writing is absolutely Devine ✨✨

well, nonnie... it's very funny you ask...... sneak peek below, 18+ only mdni!

UPDATE: read the full thing here!

It’s been months of this. Months of driving around in circles, chasing ghosts, getting nowhere. Months of Hopper’s vapid updates crackling through the radio while you and Steve rot in the van like two strangers locked in the same cage.

Except, it’s not exactly strangers, is it? 

No. Not after hours spent side by side in the dark, listening for things that aren’t there, waiting, hoping, pretending this isn’t the closest thing either of you has had to a date in months.  

But you don’t do dates.

You do the backseat.

You do frantic, messy fucking on ugly shag carpet, killing time in a metal box while you both wait for the world to change, or maybe for it just end already.

You fuck until it hurts, until your skin stings and your lungs burn, until the sound of your own blood is louder than the relentless beep-beep-beep-beep of the telemetry signal.

You fuck. You wait. Then you fuck again.

No restaurants, no movies. No roses or candles or foreplay.   

None of that normal, mundane shit. Not anymore.   

It’s just this. This van. This backseat. This hideous carpet and the cheap vinyl seats that squeak every time the car rocks.

This strange, suspended limbo where you touch each other like it doesn’t mean anything—just habit born of frustration and boredom—only it’s getting harder every night to keep pretending that’s true.

[wildwestdean]

enmity

based on both this request by @nochedie, and this request by @somethingsomethingcranberries! thank you so much for sending these in! 🤍🤍

summary: this wasn't the first time a hunt had gone wrong. sure, the injuries dean patched up for you were a little worse than usual, but it was nothing new - so, why was he so pissed off about it?

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 7.1k+

warnings: working a case/hunting, mentions of missing kids, gore, blood, reader gets injured, stitches + motel room first aid, descriptions of wounds, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, nicknames, yelling, fighting, mature themes, kinda slow burn but not really, minor self-doubt (reader), dean acts like a dick, name calling (stupid, idiot), best!friend sam, mentions of pain killers, alcohol consumption, confessions, idiots in love, fluff, brief mention of age gap

You sat in your motel room with books and papers scattered across the bed, and a plethora of tabs open on your laptop.

“Anything?” you asked with a sigh, looking up at Sam who was across the room - the table he sat at practically mirroring your bedspread.

He huffed and set his book down, leaning back in his chair while running a hand through his hair. 

Your shoulders slumped at his reaction, a frustrated chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

He shook his head, glaring at the pages in front him before meeting your gaze. “I don’t get it. At all.” 

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing in confusion. “Get what?”

Sam’s eyes widened, and he waved his hands over the littered table. “This! This whole case. I mean, there’s zero background for this- this- whatever it is!” he exclaimed. 

“Okay, maybe we should just take a break? Dean should be back with the food soon...” you trailed off as a passage suddenly caught your attention, fingers tapping atop your knee as you scanned the page.

He noticed the shift in your demeanour and sat up straight, looking at you intently. “Did you find something?” he asked hopefully. 

You shook your head as you glanced at him. “No, I don’t think so, but-” you cut yourself off, feeling unsure, but you could practically feel him watching you, his eyebrows raised as he waited for you to continue. “What if we’re looking in the wrong place?” 

“How so?” he questioned. 

“Okay, well,” you started. “Right now we’re looking for things that are common around here and travel in groups. Like werewolves, demons, or vampires, right?”

Sam nodded his head, looking at you as if you were losing your mind. “Yeah…” he said slowly. 

Huffing at the fact he wasn’t following, you carried on. “So, right now we’re looking for groups of monsters. Monsters that are likely native to this area. Maybe that’s why we can’t find anything,” you tried to explain. 

Sam nodded, eyes lighting up in realization. “So… you’re not only thinking this is something mainly solitary, but also not typically known to show face around here? Like Lamia?”

“Yes, exactly! Technically there’s multiple, but-” 

“There were only two found around here,” Sam finished for you, clearly deep in thought. 

Folding your arms over your chest, you leaned back against the headboard. “What do you think?” you asked softly. 

He grabbed his laptop and placed it in front of him. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “Seems like it could be a good shot, though.”

You smiled once more, gathering up the abandoned books and loose papers just as the motel door creaked open. 

“So, what did you nerds find out while I was gone?” Dean asked, clicking the door shut behind him.

You opened your mouth to answer, but Sam beat you to it. “Girl wonder over there may have just found us a good lead,” he said, eyes still locked on his computer as his head jerked in your direction. 

Dean beamed at you as he set the bags down, settling for the empty chair across from Sam when he couldn’t find any free space on the table. “That’s my girl!” he cheered. “What did you find?”

Trying to prevent a blush from blooming across your face because of his comment, you focused on organizing the piles of research in front of you. “Sam’s giving me too much credit, I didn’t even find anything concrete.” 

Dean walked over and sat down on the other bed, a look of interest on his face. You shifted nervously as he accidentally brushed your knee along the way, feeling your heart rate quicken like a smitten teenager. You glanced up and caught Sam’s eye, and his gaze darted between you and Dean before resting on his laptop screen, a tiny smirk playing at his lips. 

“Tell me what ya got,” Dean said, popping open a bottle of beer that seemed to appear out of nowhere. 

You shrugged dismissively. “Like I said, nothing concrete. I just suggested to Sam that we were looking in the wrong place.” 

Dean shook his head, taking a sip of his beer. “You already lost me.” 

“I mean, most things we’ve hunted have come in swarms, and were typically common to the area. I suggested that perhaps we were hunting a singular thing, something foreign, like when you guys took down that Lamia,” you supplied, standing up with a stack of books to move out of the way. 

You could practically feel Sam’s smirk behind your back as you set things on the dresser. Ever since you realized that, when it came to Dean, you felt something stronger than your adopted kinship, you confided in Sam. He’s been one of your best friends and confidants for as long as you’ve known him, yet a small part of you regrets telling him; he still refuses to let you live it down, and is smug as shit about it at every possible moment. Between him, and the fact that your behaviour is growing increasingly uncharacteristic around Dean due to the fear of your own feelings, it won’t be long until Dean realizes that something is going on.

Dean laughed softly behind you, and you were thankful he couldn't see the smile that grew on your face because of the sound. “Assuming I even remember what the hell this Lima-”

“Lamia,” you and Sam both pitched in to correct him. 

“Whatever,” Dean huffed. “What makes you think this thing is some lonely foreigner?” 

Shrugging your shoulders as you set the last book down on the stack, you thought about it. “I don’t really know,” you said, spinning around and walking back to your bed. “Just a hunch, I guess? I mean, I could be really off base here.”

“Nah, your hunches are never wrong, sweetheart,” Dean told you, bringing his bottle to his smirking lips. 

You heard Sam snicker, and you sent him a death glare before declaring that you were starving. 

Setting the bottle on the nightstand, Dean eagerly stood up and grabbed the bags. “I got your favourite,” he declared, sporting a proud grin as he brought it to you. 

“Thanks, De,” you said earnestly, matching his grin as you took it from him.

One quick glance confirmed that he didn’t forget a single detail of your order, and you felt your heart swell about three sizes. 

“Sammy?” Dean asked tentatively, looking over to his brother now; the remnants of his smile still lingering.

Sam shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on his screen. “You can go ahead, I’m not all that hungry right now.”

Rather than argue, you and Dean simply shared a look and shrugged before digging in. The three of you brainstormed some more while you ate, resulting in Sam sending you and Dean an occasional look of ‘stop talking with your mouths full, it's disgusting’ - which only encouraged you both to do it more.

Eventually, Sam had all he could take and shut his laptop with a groan. “I’ll be in my room,” he muttered, all but storming away to the room next door. 

He always got his own room whenever he could, given that not only was he often up late with a lamp burning to carry on with research, but he was also always up before the sun to go for a run if the case allowed for it. It was now more than ever, though, that you assumed he got his own room to also just escape the pestering from you and Dean. 

You both watched him march out of sight for a moment before Dean turned to you, the corners of his mouth twitching. 

“It’s just too easy sometimes,” you giggled. 

He couldn’t help but snort a laugh, a grin taking over both your faces as you high-fived. 

The two of you carried on together for the rest of the night; working on the case a little more, coming up with new ways to mess with Sam, settling onto your bed to watch a few episodes of your favourite show - one that he always complains about, yet refuses to miss a single episode of.

It was the same as every night. 

Only this time, you could’ve sworn that he sat a little closer to you. That he laughed a little harder at your jokes. You even thought that you saw more fondness than usual reflected in his gaze whenever he turned to smile at you.

Yet, you didn’t dwell on it. You couldn’t dwell on it. 

It was a dangerous game to think that he saw you the way that you saw him, and it was a game you refused to play. 

A few days later, you were all seated around the room again, growing increasingly frustrated over the lack of answers. Children kept disappearing, no one knew why, and panic was rising. 

You scrolled through the page, sitting up straight as something caught your eye; and you noticed Sam do the same a few moments later. 

“Gurumāpā!” you both yelled, looking at each other. 

Dean looked up from the book he was searching through to stare at the two of you. “Uhh... gesundheit?"

“The Nepalese bogeyman,” you confirmed, ignoring Dean’s confusion. 

“You really think?” Sam asked. 

You spoke quickly, excited yet unsure “I mean, I don't know. It could be. It’s our best shot. Stories vary here and there but the moral is the same.”

“He takes disobedient kids,” Sam agreed with a nod. 

Dean shut his book with a snap. “Great! So, where do we find it, and how do we kill it?” 

You opened your mouth, but had nothing. You looked at Sam, but he only shrugged. 

“Awesome,” Dean sighed, resting his cheek on his palm as he dramatically threw the book back open to flick through the pages. 

“Are we sure about this?” you asked suddenly, having two heads snap to attention. 

Dean spoke first. “Are we ever?”

“Dean’s right, most of the time we barely have a leg to stand on,” Sam added. 

“I know, but,” you started to say. “Why’s he here? He’s supposed to be secluded on a field in Nepal. It doesn’t make sense he’s here.”

“Nothing ever makes sense,” Dean said, rubbing his eyes. “This is the best lead we’ve had so far, we can’t turn back now. For all we know, someone could’ve found a way to summon him- hell, or smuggle him here.” 

Sam nodded. “It has happened before,” he reminded, and you all took a silent moment to remember that case before shuddering. 

“We’ve done a lot more with a lot less - so come on,” Dean said, tapping a finger on your laptop to get you to keep reading. 

You obliged with a heavy sigh, and silence stretched on for a few more hours; all of you painstakingly searching through any book or entry you could get your hands on. You, working on finding a possible location this thing could be camping out in, while they tried to find a way to kill it. 

You considered it a lucky break when Dean announced he may have found something, thus allowing him to help you when Sam took it upon himself to dive deeper on what was discovered. 

After a few more hours, you all found yourselves outside of town and surrounded by nothing but abandoned farmland and its ramshackled buildings.

“Great, so… now what?” Dean asked, surveying the expanse of seemingly endless land. 

“I guess we split up? Try and find any kids first?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 

Opening your mouth to respond, you were quickly cut off by Dean. 

“No,” he said firmly, taking a subconscious step closer to you. “We don’t even know if what we’re after is what we think we’re after.”

“So?” you asked, glancing up at him. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“No,” he repeated, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. We stay together until we get a better feel for what’s going on.” 

“Well, let’s go then,” you declared, slinging your duffel over your shoulder and strolling down the path. 

The brothers were hot on your heels, the only sounds to be heard being the gravel under your shoes and the birds up above as you explored the property.

“This isn’t gonna work, Dean,” Sam huffed after a while. “This place is massive and we’re wasting time. It’s gonna be dark soon.” 

“He’s right, De,” you agreed softly. “We need to split up.” 

“Fine, okay,” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “Do not do anything stupid. Call the second you find anything, got it?” he added with a pointed look; seemingly only directed at you.

“Yeah, I got it,” you said in annoyance. “I’m not an idiot.” 

“I never said-” Dean started to argue before Sam interrupted with a loud groan. 

“Guys? Can we, like, not do that now? Kinda life or death here.” 

“Right, yeah,” Dean grumbled with a curt nod. “No one get dead,” he muttered, choosing a direction and walking off.

You and Sam exchanged a quick glance before following suit, heading off in your own directions. 

The sun was getting lower and lower on the horizon, and you grew increasingly frustrated as every single place you checked came up empty. 

You were just about ready to start landing punches on some unsuspecting barnwood when you heard it. It was quiet, distant, but unmistakable. 

Someone - or something, you guessed - was in the next building.

It was dark. 

Dark and quiet. 

Why was it so dark? 

The sun still wasn’t set as you stepped into the barn, and that was only moments ago; wasn’t it? 

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to recall what happened: the noise that caught your attention, the apparent nesting ground you came upon, the footsteps behind you, the struggle, the fight, the searing pain as you were sent flying.

A small whimper escaped you as it all came back, breathing rapidly as you realized you were alone with no idea what was happening outside these creaking walls. You tried to move, but searing pain shot through you, a hand instinctively going to your side to instantly become warm and slick. 

“Dean?” you tried to call out, but his name only came as a broken sob. 

Choking back tears, you forced yourself to calm down so you could listen to your surroundings; yet all you could hear was your own heart pounding in your ears. 

“Dean?” you tried again, but it was like all the air was being stolen from your lungs. 

Taking a big breath, you forced yourself to your feet with a yell, bracing yourself on the closest beam you could find as you fumbled for your phone. Panic continued to rise within you when you realized it wouldn’t turn on, and fear for the boys’ whereabouts turned your blood to ice. 

Moonlight was filtering into the barn through the slats, piercing the darkness around you just enough to help you see the way out. You didn’t know where you’d go once getting outside, but you knew you just had to get outside. Forcing yourself to move once more, you pushed off the beam and trudged through the rubble and debris, heading towards the opening you had squished yourself through to get in here. Shoving your way back out, however, was not as easy, and you couldn’t help but let out a scream as the wood pressed into your wound on the way through. 

Suddenly, you heard your name being called. It was soft, like an echo in the distance, but you recognized the voice - you would know it anywhere. 

“Dean-” you attempted to call in return, but you still couldn’t find your voice. 

Once you were completely outside, you made your way in the direction you thought he was in, trying to keep pressure on the wound as best you could; thankfully, it didn’t seem to be bleeding too badly. Your head was absolutely pounding, and you weren’t sure if your vision was blurry, or if it was just too dark to clearly make anything out. Nevertheless, you carried on, using Dean as a beacon to guide your way. 

The second you saw his familiar silhouette appear up ahead, you knew you were safe. You knew you could finally let yourself give in to the pain and exhaustion, collapsing to your knees with a heavy sigh. 

You faintly registered him yelling out your name before sprinting towards you, his voice growing louder as he got closer.

“Hey,” he cried out, skidding to his knees in front of you. “Hey, look at me. Look at me,” he pleaded, cupping your face in his hands in a desperate attempt to try and meet your gaze.

“The barn,” you said urgently. “I tried to-”

“It’s okay,” Dean hushed you, shaking his head. “It’s okay, you’re okay, we got it.” 

“You got it?” you asked hazily.

“We got it, sweetheart,” he assured, his fingers brushing away your hair to try and examine you better. “It’s over, you’re okay.”

“I don’t feel okay,” you admitted quietly. 

Your vision grew even cloudier, and you didn’t know if it was your consciousness slipping away, or more tears starting to flow. 

“No, you’re okay,” he said shakily, wiping away what must have been tears. 

You nodded in response, but the movement caused your breath to hitch as the pain grew worse, and your hands shakily reached up to grab his wrists in a feeble attempt to stop everything from spinning. 

It was at this exact moment he noticed your hands were painted with your own blood, and the fear that surged through him as he glanced down made him want to throw up. Quickly slipping his flannel off, he wrapped it around you with unsteady hands, tying it tightly after warning you it might hurt.

“See?” he asked nervously, swallowing thickly. “It’s not even that bad, alright? It’s not that bad.”

The fact that it was too dark to properly assess the damage was setting his nerves on fire, and at this point he didn’t know whether he was trying to convince you or himself that everything was fine. 

He doesn’t even remember calling out for Sam, yet he must have, because his brother was suddenly skidding to a stop beside him after finally finding you.

Sam took a moment to assess you himself, though once realizing there was nothing that could be done right here and now, he decided it was time to move. 

“Can you walk?” Sam asked you, trying to keep his voice steady. 

“Not as quickly as you two gigantor’s can,” you admitted, huffing a bitter laugh. 

Neither of them laughed with you, and they shared a pointed look that you couldn’t see. 

Dean dug in his pocket, pulling out his keys before tossing them to Sam. “Get the car and start heading our way. We’ll meet you.” 

“Got it,” Sam nodded, sprinting away. 

“Alright, let’s get you up, sweetheart,” Dean announced softly, grabbing you as firmly as he dared. “Ready?” 

With a tiny nod of your head, you let out a groan as he helped guide you to your feet, letting you lean heavily on him for support. 

“Good,” Dean encouraged. “Good. How’re you feeling?” 

“Tired,” you breathed out, resting your heavy head on his shoulder. 

“Okay, hey,” he called, gently lifting your head back up. “I’m gonna carry you, alright? But I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?” 

You really, really wanted to say no. It seemed like he had three heads, all dancing around in front of you, and all you wanted was to close your eyes. You didn’t understand why you couldn’t. 

“Why?” you asked, clearly confused.  

“Can’t let you sleep until I check out that head,” he told you, getting ready to scoop you up into his arms as gently as he could. 

You were somehow even more confused. “My head?” you asked, before letting out a strangled gasp as he picked you up.

“It’s bleeding,” he pointed out, swallowing down the lump that formed in his throat.

As if in a way of question, you gingerly brought your fingers up to the side of your head - only to flinch in response as you came in contact with what must’ve been another wound. “Oh.”

It wasn’t long before the world around you became aglow with headlights, and Sam pulled to a screeching stop before rushing to help Dean get you in the back seat.

“Are we close to a hospital?” Dean asked, placing your head on his lap as Sam spun the car around. 

“Not at all. The motel’s our closest option right now,” answered Sam. 

“Fine, then drive faster,” Dean ordered, running a hand through your hair. 

“I’m going as fast as I can, Dean,” Sam grumbled. 

“Well, I said go faster,” Dean replied curtly, before fully turning his attention back to you.

He focused on keeping you talking as Sam sped towards the motel - discussing the latest episodes of your show the two of you had watched, how there was a new movie playing that he wanted to take you to see once back at home, that during the drive back home he’d stop at that cute cafe you spotted on the outskirts of town earlier this week; anything that came to mind, he said it.

There were multiple motives behind him doing so: to keep you distracted from the pain, to keep you awake, to keep him distracted from your pain, and to try and gauge how bad that head injury was - so far, it didn’t seem to be so much damaging as just a nasty blow. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, and the wound by your hip wasn’t bleeding as much, so he was hoping all it would need was a few good stitches once he could look at it. 

The panic he had felt since first finding you was finally starting to subside, yet he had still never been so thankful to pull into a dingy motel parking lot before. After carefully leading you to your room, he and Sam both took turns to evaluate your wounds and current condition. 

“Looks worse than it is,” Sam told you, letting out a breath of relief. “Definitely gonna be sporting a nice goose egg for a while, maybe a stitch or two, but your head seems fine.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally fine,” Dean pitched in, sarcasm dripping from the words. “What about that nice gash on her side - what would you say that is, Sammy? Four, maybe five inches?”

“Dean,” Sam chastised, shooting him a warning look. 

“Oh, here we go. Sammy the protector,” Dean muttered, heading to gather the first aid kit. “Well where the hell were you when she got turned into Raggedy Ann, huh?”

“Where was I? Where the hell were you?” Sam spat back with a scoff. 

“I was the one who didn’t want to split up in the first place!” yelled Dean, snatching a bottle of liquor off the counter to use as a disinfectant.  

“Guys?” you cut in, hoping to stop them before it escalated. 

“What?” they both shouted, turning their attention to you 

“Oh,” Sam said, realizing he was now yelling at you. “Sorry,” he added awkwardly, clearing his throat. 

Dean, on the other hand, remained quiet as he approached you. His face was as dark as an impending storm, yet his hands remained as gentle as the touch of a summer breeze while he tended to you.

Time stretched on, and the silence that now filled the room was almost harder to bear than the needle Dean was currently threading through your skin. You cast a glance over at Sam, hoping for some reprieve, but he looked just as helpless as you were. 

“Did you end up finding anyone?” you asked tentatively, addressing the room instead of either Sam or Dean.

“Sam brought a couple kids over to the station while I looked for you,” Dean informed, voice as taught as the suture he pulled through for one final knot. 

“That’s good,” you replied, wringing your fingers together. “What about-” 

“Everything got dealt with, alright?” Dean interrupted, cutting the excess material off with a harsh snip as he finished his stitching. 

“Okay,” you said, feeling like a scolded child. “Look, I-” 

Your words got stuck in your throat as Dean stood abruptly, tossing everything aside before storming over to the sink. You watched as he stiffly scrubbed your blood from his hands, the silence becoming as overbearing as before until Sam broke it. 

“Look, you just…” he trailed off, as if he were testing the water before continuing. “You really scared the hell out of us.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said, mainly because you didn’t know what to say. It’s not like you meant to get attacked, for crying out loud. 

“Sorry?” Dean barked, whipping around to face you. “You’re sorry?” 

You stared at him, watching as the fury swirled in his eyes while you thought of what you were supposed to say. 

“Okay- maybe we should all take a breather here,” Sam quickly jumped in, trying to diffuse his brother’s anger. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Dean said, dismissing the idea as he stared daggers at you. “I think we should go ahead and talk about what a goddamn idiot you were back there!” 

The words felt like a slap in the face, and they hurt more than anything else you endured tonight. “I was not an idiot.” 

“No?” he asked, stepping towards you. “Because last I checked, you were supposed to call us if you found something! Not go blindly running in to meet who knows what without any fucking backup!” 

“Oh, please!” you groaned, already fed up. “Just how was that gonna work, Dean? I just stand there and wait for you guys to show up while potentially letting some innocent kid bite it? I had to check it out!” 

“It was stupid!” he shouted back. “You wanna check it out solo, fine, but you still drop a dime! We had no idea where the hell you even were!” 

“Guys, c’mon,” Sam pleaded, desperately wanting to put an end to this. 

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean spat. “She needs to own up to her mistake.” 

“It wasn’t a mistake!” you yelled. “I’m not in this gig to play it safe, I’m in it to save lives.” 

“Yeah, and then I’m the one who ends up with your blood on my hands!” he cried out. 

“Oh, do you always have to be so goddamn dramatic?!” you asked. “Don’t act like getting hurt isn’t part of the job. You’ve got over a decade on me, Dean, you should know that better than I do!”

He laughed sardonically, shaking his head as he backed up to lean against the counter, hands rubbing at his face. “I just don’t understand how you can’t see how fucking stupid you were.” 

“Ah, yes,” you replied saccharinely. “Stupid little me. Just a naive girl who can’t do the job, huh?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” he barked, rubbing his face in exasperation. 

“No?” you asked incredulously. “Then tell me, Dean! What the hell are you saying, huh?” 

“God, just- you know what?” he asked, shoving himself off the counter. “Screw this. I’m done here. I’m getting my own fucking room for the night,” he muttered, storming away. 

Before you could even blink, he was slamming the door behind him. You must’ve made a move to follow him, because you suddenly felt a hand lightly grip your wrist as Sam kept you in place. 

“Just leave him to cool off for a bit,” Sam told you quietly. 

You wanted to argue, to rip yourself from Sam’s grasp and go find Dean, who was likely pacing around outside in an attempt to blow off some steam. Yet you knew it was best to do as Sam said; Dean didn’t want to listen right now, and following after him to try and talk would only make things worse. 

“Yeah,” you said belatedly, slipping from his hold. “Okay.” 

“Do you need any help?” Sam asked, watching as you gathered your things for bed. 

“I’ll be fine,” you told him, shaking your head. 

“Alright,” he sighed, not fully believing you but knowing better than to call you on it. “I’ll go next door and grab my stuff. I’ll stay with you tonight.” 

“Sounds great,” you said, despite not fully listening to him. You were too focused on trying to hold yourself together until you made it to the bathroom, letting the emotions run through you as soon as you were locked inside. 

Time seemed to slip away from you while you were in there, lost in thought while the water melded with your tears as you cleansed yourself both physically and emotionally. It was only when Sam knocked on the door with a call of your name that you finally came to your senses. Once you assured him you were fine, you quickly finished up. 

Doing your best to avoid eye contact with Sam, you made for your bed as quickly as you could move. Hiding yourself away in the safety of the blankets, you hoped to avoid any further discussions of this entire event. 

You should’ve known better. 

“You do know we need to talk about this, right?” Sam asked softly. 

“Do we?” you asked in return, staring up at the ceiling. 

He sighed, and soon after you felt the end of your bed dip under his weight. “I meant what I said. You scared the hell out of us.” 

“I didn’t mean to,” you said meekly, keeping your eyes trained on the stain above your head. 

“I know that,” he said calmly. “I’m sure Dean does, too, but-” 

“Does he?” you cut in incredulously. 

Sam sighed again, falling silent as he weighed his response in his head. “Yes. C’mon, you know Dean - hell, probably even better than I do. He was more scared than he was angry, and I think you know that.” 

“Well you were scared, too, weren’t you?” you asked, finally turning your gaze to his. “You didn’t try ripping my head off.” 

“That’s because my biggest fear didn’t almost become reality tonight,” he said simply, giving you a look as though you should understand; which, you didn’t. 

“What?” 

“Look,” Sam started, carding his fingers through his hair. “Death is part of the job, right? We all know it’s the risk we take with this life. But you… if I’m being honest, I don’t even know what the hell I’d do if I ever lost you; you’re my best friend, the annoying little sister I never had, and I love you. But Dean… him losing you… I don’t know if he could ever come back from that.”

You stared at him carefully, his words echoing in your head as you searched his face for any insincerity - you didn’t really know what to say once you found no trace. 

“I’d like to get some rest, if that’s okay,” you finally settled on. 

Sam smiled sadly, knowing you didn’t believe him. “Sure,” he agreed, squeezing your calf affectionately before standing up. “I’ll check on you in a few hours, okay?” 

“Okay,” you nodded, tucking the sheets up under your chin. “Night, Sammy.” 

“G’night,” he responded gently, quietly getting himself ready for bed as well.

It was torture. Pure, never ending torture. 

You had been laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, for hours, unable to sleep a wink. 

Not only was your mind still reeling from your fight with Dean, but you weren’t able to get comfortable; the stitches in your side pulled every time you shifted positions, sending a new wave of pain through you that even the painkillers you swallowed down earlier did little to conceal. 

Letting out an irritated huff, you tossed the covers off and slid from the bed to search the dark for your shoes, doing your best to not wake Sam - all you wanted was some fresh air, and you didn’t want to deal with his questions or insistence he go with you. 

After shrugging on a flannel that Dean had left in his haste to get away from you, you carefully slipped from the room and did your best to make sure the door shut silently in your wake. 

“Running away?” came a voice from behind you, making you jump out of your skin as you whirled around. 

You came face to face with Dean, who was leaning against the trunk of his beloved car, one hand shoved deep in his jacket pocket and the other holding a can of beer. The moonlight cut through the darkness, mingling with the fluorescent and neon lights to cast an otherworldly glow upon his face. 

“Why?” you asked tightly, folding your arms over yourself. “Hoping you won’t have to deal with my stupidity anymore?” 

You may as well have slapped him for the way your words made him flinch, and he fixed his gaze on the can in his hand. “You know that’s not how I meant any of it,” he muttered guiltily. 

All you could do was scoff, biting back your snippy response in the hopes of trying to avoid another blow out. 

“Why are you out here?” you asked after a few moments of silence. “Thought you got your own room.” 

Dean shrugged, chugging down some beer before jerking a thumb in the direction of the upper level. “I asked for one, but all they had was one up in the corner.” 

“What, too many stairs?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He shook his head, falling silent as he stared at the puddle by his feet. “Just… too far away.” 

“From?” you asked, taking a few steps to lean against the closest pillar. 

By the sigh he let out, you could tell he didn’t want to answer, yet after a small stretch of silence he finally looked up to meet your gaze. “You.” 

“What, not mad at me anymore, then?” you questioned, hoping to mend this bridge. 

“Oh, no. I’m still fucking pissed,” he instantly admitted. 

“Right, well, spare the lecture this time,” you replied with a scoff. 

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he snapped, setting his can down on the trunk. 

“You wanna know what I don’t get, Dean?” you quipped, glaring at him. “Have you always thought I was such an incompetent hunter, or did your opinion of me just suddenly change?” 

“That is not-” he started to argue, before taking a calming breath. “That is not what I think,” he finished, more quiet this time. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered with a roll of your eyes. 

“Okay, you wanna know how I see it?” he asked, shifting his stance a little straighter. 

When all you did was meet his gaze with your own look of determination, he carried on. 

“You almost died!” he said adamantly. 

“No, I didn’t!” you denied, throwing up your hands in exasperation. 

“Well you may as well have!” he yelled, palm slamming down on Baby’s exterior in an outburst of rage. “You disappeared! You disappeared, and I couldn’t find you, and when I did-... I mean what else was I supposed to think, huh? I find you on your damn knees, covered in your own blood, and I can’t even see how bad it is because we’re literally out there in the fucking dark. So you know what? As far as I’m concerned, in that moment, you did almost die.” 

Stunned into silence by the intensity of his words, all you could do was watch the storm of fear and fury dance behind his eyes before he turned away. 

“I thought I was gonna have to watch you die,” he muttered, choking on his words as he braced his hands on the car to steady himself. 

“I-” you tried to speak, but all words failed you at that moment. 

“And I know, okay?” he carried on desperately. “I know that this job, this life… that’s the risk. And me? Hell, if I go, I go, I can make peace with that. But I’ll be damned if I get to keep on living and you don’t. I’ll be damned, if I have to sit there and watch you die.” 

“Dean-” you tried again, feeling like an idiot for not being able to form a proper response. 

“Look, I- I overreacted okay? It’s what I do, I know that, but-” Dean cut himself off with a sigh, quickly wiping at his eyes before the tears had a chance to appear. “I can’t- I can’t handle the idea of facing a world without you in it.” 

“You’ve… I mean, I don’t understand,” you admitted with a chuckle of disbelief. “I’ve been hurt before.” 

“Trust me, I know,” he sighed, finally returning to sit against the rear end as he fixated on the ground before him. 

“So… what made it so different this time?” you hesitantly asked. 

Dean’s gaze slowly lifted from his boots to your face, and the look he gave you was one you’ve never seen before. He held your gaze as he stood tall, easily closing the space between you two with just a few steps. He reached out to carefully brush your hair away from the gash on your head, tucking the strands behind your ear. Your breath hitched as his fingers gently traced your skin, his touch lingering as he examined your wound. 

“Guess I just reached my breaking point,” he whispered, letting his palm rest against your cheek. 

“What does that mean?” you found the courage to ask. 

“You know what it means,” he replied, reluctantly pulling his hand away. 

“Say it anyway,” you pleaded, heart hammering in your chest as you fought to steady your breathing. 

He shook his head, averting his gaze as he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I don’t think I can.” 

“I know you can,” you encouraged, trying your best to catch his gaze. 

He closed his eyes as if to brace himself for what he was about to say, yet he only stayed silent. When the silence began to stretch on into minutes, you knew it was time to give up. 

“Okay,” you concluded, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in your chest from the jagged edges of your now broken heart. “Have a good night, De.” 

He let you turn away from him. He let you walk the few feet to your motel room door, but he couldn’t let you go back inside. Despite being an irreligious man, your name fell from his lips like a prayer, stopping you as you grasped the door handle

“I’ve been in love with you for longer than I even care to admit,” he confessed. “Yeah, maybe I went a little crazy earlier, but you know what? You make me crazy. The idea of losing you makes me crazy. The fact that you’re selfless enough to risk your life so easily makes me crazy. I can apologize for the way I handled it, for the things I said, but I will not apologize for being scared about losing you, okay? I just won’t.” 

“Dean,” you found yourself saying once more, feeling like you were moving in slow motion as you returned to stand before him. 

“Never thought I’d actually tell you that,” he announced, letting out a nervous chuckle as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I get it if you don’t-” 

“I love you, too,” you admitted quietly, cutting him off. 

“What?” he asked, blinking in shock. 

“You aren’t the only one who’s been harbouring that secret,” you told him, laughing softly. 

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but it was Sam’s voice that called out first. 

“Hey, I’m really happy for you guys and all… but could you just, like, shut up and kiss already or something? I’m actually trying to sleep in here.” 

It took you a few seconds to realize he was calling out from inside your room, and the realization that he likely heard the entire conversation caused laughter to bubble up from your chest and burst from your mouth. The sound was only short- lived as Dean captured your lips with his, rendering you quiet with a searing kiss that made you so weak in the knees you would’ve crumpled had he not been holding you.

You wanted to kiss him forever. You wanted to stay here with his lips on yours, his large hands framing your face as your small ones rested on his chest, for the rest of your life; and you would have, had the burning in your lungs not forced you to pull away for a proper breath.

He refused to let you go, pulling you in close as he rested his forehead against yours. You wished time and space would cease to exist as you stood in his embrace, slowly catching your breath; though as far as you were concerned, the two of you were the only ones to exist in this moment.

“Wait, hold on,” he said, pulling back to look at you, dancing his gaze between you and the door to your room. “Has he been in there this entire time?”

“Ever since you left, yeah,” you told him, a little confused by his sudden question.

“So his room’s been empty?” he asked, a little annoyed.

“Uh- yes?”

“So you’re telling me I’ve been standing out for hours, looking like a creep and getting drizzled on, when I could’ve been using his room?” he questioned.

A laugh escaped your lips without you meaning it to, but the longer you took in his annoyed expression the more giggles you let out.

“Well, it’s your own fault for storming out,” you told him with a laugh.

He rolled his eyes as you carried on laughing, shaking his head as he let you go. “The things I do for you,” he muttered under his breath as he checked the door next to yours.

“Aw c’mon, you’ve had to do worse while on stakeouts,” you pointed out, watching as he swung the door open to Sam’s former room. “Although, I’m not usually the one you’re watching - wait, or am I?” you added playfully, grinning mischievously.

“Just shut up and get in here,” he sighed, holding his hand out to you as he fought off a smile; though the twitch in the corners of his mouth gave him away.

You made your way over to him, ready to take his hand in yours as you continued to tease him. “Can’t help but notice you didn’t say no.”

He rolled his eyes once more, clasping your hand and pulling you into the room so swiftly you let out a squeak of surprise. “You,” he said, kicking the door shut as he took your face between his palms. “Are a pain in my ass.”

You grinned, placing your hands on his wrists. “Yeah, but you love me anyway.”

“Yeah,” he said softly, running his thumbs across your cheeks. “I really do.”

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