#{{ Look at him finding new and exciting ways to murder. Good for him. }}

[chaoticbard]

{{ Finally beat the Neth.erbrain. What a lovely epilogue that was! I'd been spoiled to small bits of it, but most of it was a very delightful surprise. }}

[donutz]

Yandere Dogday x smiling critters cat reader

A/N|| I kind of.. Completely forgot that Dogday was supposed to be a yandere, but he really wouldn't do much as one so... I think it's okay! ^_^

Request from Wattpad—! Here you go Shaymi999 ☆

Your ‘name’ was SleepyMew. Not so good is it? Well stick with it, it’s what they named you. You had some resemblance to Catnap, you both were about sleeping, and you two were cats.

So when you arrived, the other critters were all over you, saying that you were similar to Catnap. While Catnap stared from the shadows. 

It wasn’t impossible to see him up there, cats do have night vision after all.

While almost every critter was surrounding you, Dogday stayed behind. Getting a gooood look at you. You noticed that too.

Dogday snapped out of his trance and told the other critters to not crowd you, especially since you’re new.

He asked for your name and you said, “SleepyMew, though I don’t like the name…” You rubbed your eye, because you were just sooo sleepy!

One unique thing about you is that you didn’t have a permanent smile, you could actually move your mouth. Even with your cool feature, nobody was jealous. They found it amazing!!

“Well I like the name!” Dogday exclaimed, causing the other critters to look at each other. Not curious, noooo, they think somethin new is goin on with Dogday.

“He has a crush on Mew.” KickinChicken whispered to Hoppy Hopscotch, and since dog’s have excellent hearing Dogday heard every bit of Kickin’s claim, “Hey! I do not!”

Kickin realized he was caught and said, “What? I never said that?? Man who said that…” Causing the other critters to giggle.

“... Anyways! Would you like to be shown around the place?” Dogday questioned you, still suspicious of what Kickin said.

“Uhh, yeah sure.”

“Great! Come this way!” He softly grabbed your wrist and led you towards areas of playcare.

Even Catnap was a little bit suspicious of Dogday’s feelings.

After Dogday gave you a tour around the place, you settled in and started doing what you were made for. Calming down the kids. There were a few 5-6 year olds that were too excited, and the kids needed to be more chill for the activity.

You lazily walked over to them, asking their names. The kids stated them, and you dealt with their ecstatic energy. Meanwhile, Dogday was watching you deal with them, feeling both proud and impressed at your work.

His feelings growing bigger.

After a few months of working at playcare you and Dogday were together.

You two were sitting on the couch, while Dogday was right next to you, his leg over your lap. He has his arms lightly wrapping around your neck, his head laying on your shoulder. Obviously his tail was wagging.

“Hey… You know how people get rings on their finger in shows…” Dogday said.

“Yea, but how do you know that?”

“I saw it on a show once. Anyways, do you want that to be us?” He looked to your eyes.

You looked back at him, “Yea.”

After a few days you guys actually had this marriage. You didn’t expect it to happen but that was okay.

Cutely, you guys had these little toy rings, KickinChicken was the marriage officiant, “And you may now hug each other not just the bride.”

Then you two had a big hug, with a big smile on your face. Now that was rare.

Years later, all was hell, hundreds of dreaded screams filled even the smallest cracks of Playtime co.

All critters were trying to find a way to live, except one, Catnap.

Dogday was trying his best to get people to safety, while simultaneously worrying about you. “Where’s Catnap?!”

“Catnap is one of the murderers Dogday, we need to go.”

His eyes went wide, he never knew Catnap was doing this.

“WHAT?! How do you—”

“I saw it. I saw him violently kick away the children just so he can have his fill. Catnap isn’t going to leave with us, in fact, he’s following the Prototype.”

This was so sudden for Dogday, his best friend was the cause of all of this?!

“I know a spot where we can—” Your fur stood up, your hairs itching at your toy skin. Your irises went smaller and smaller, you slowly turned your head towards him. Towards Catnap.

The much bigger Catnap.

Knowing you were in danger, you started growling(you are a cat after all), but Dogday was… surprised. What you said was true, it’s not like he didn’t believe you, it’s just he didn’t expect to see it before his eyes.

“Dogday, run.” This was a fight between two cats, it’s better not to try to stop it. It can get quite bloody.

“WHAT?! NO I CAN’T—”

“GO.”

Reluctantly, Dogday sped away.

“THE PROTOTYPE WILL SAVE US.”

“...”

Then, the cat fight started.

Dogday was helping out others get to safety, as the nice dog he is… He was waiting for you. Hoping you’d make it out alive.

An hour later, he was looking for you. He found you! And you weren’t dead! You were very bloodied up, laying on the ground.

Dogday hurried over to you, happy you’re still alive. You wanted to yell out, tell him to not come over, but he is listening. So you shook your head really hard, something you did before this all happened. Why? Because that's how you indicated to not do it, to do anything(you did it when you didn’t want to talk). 

Thankfully, Dogday was watching you and not just doing actions. So he stopped. Catnap was right there, he could strike at any moment. You didn’t want that to happen to your precious Dogday.

Even if Dogday didn’t come out of the hallway he was in, Catnap still attacked. Well tried to. Dogday dodged in time and ran over to you, picking you up and high tailing it outta there.

You two managed to get to a somewhat safe area, and Dogday had time to be alone with you. There’s some bandages and rags in the area so he could heal you up, just a little bit.

Dogday was trying to calm down, but couldn’t. As the smiling critter who’s supposed to help relax others, you took action.

“It’s okay Dogday. I won’t die.”

“...” He looked up at you, with sincerity, “I should’ve never ran away…”

You cracked a small smile, “Hey, at least I got like… 5 scratches in?” Dogday furrowed his eyebrows a little, “Mew don’t joke around right now.”

“Sorry…”

After all this time, you wondered where Dogday was. Alive, hopefully. Apparently an angel entered the building, and was able to get by all the chances of death.

You don’t know where they are now, but you hope they could save Dogday.

“Hey.. It’s… Okay it’s not alright, but try to think about the positive things..” Poppy comforted(tried to).

“I am, but it doesn’t help at all unless I know that he’s safe.” You were shivering, hoping the positive scenarios you thought of were true.

Few hours later, Poppy and Kissy found a safe place where the player, or Dogday, could be.

Though you didn’t know Dogday was going to be there.

So once you saw him, you sped over to where he was and picked him up(you were in your larger form like Dogday).

You were crying, that’s the first time you’ve cried, even when Catnap was nearly killing you.

“I miss you so much love..” … Love? That’s a new one.

“Since when did you start calling me love?” You said with a smirk.

Dogday got a little flustered, “Uhm, I remembered that you didn’t really like your name, so I just thought of it…”

“Mhm.” You looked down and saw that he had no lower half. “Oh, that’s also new. Is that why you were so light?”

“... Yes.”

“Hm, player, do you know how to put together his body?”

They nodded and they immediately started working on putting his body back together.

After an hour, he finally had his legs back, he was still shorter than you though. “Hah! I’m tallerrrr!!” You bragged.

“... Really…?” He wasn’t annoyed, in fact he was happy, that he gets to see your smile again.

Player suddenly remembered that they found a ring while ‘adventuring’.

They mentioned it and asked if that’s anyone’s ring. Yours and Dogday’s eyes went wide. “Dogday is that your—”

“MY RING!!”

The player unknowingly just caused the biggest reaction from you two, just because they wanted to search around a little more.

“Angel, where did you find this?!”

They said it was in this area with a big paw pillow in the room.

“Catnap was keeping your ring?” You questioned.

It went silent, not for too long as your cat growls slowly filled the area.

“I’m killing that stupid cat.”

“Love, don't say that!”

He was secretly hoping you’d actually do it.

[eveningepiphany]

need | h.s oneshot

summary: the two elite enemies of St Jacklyn college finally cave against the mass amounts of sexual tension they’ve shared… at a campus sleepover of all things.

warnings: SMUT, hot and heavy, enemies with impulsive benefits, dirty talk, fingering (fem rec), piv sex, classic supply closet sex!!

a/n: after being gone for a little while (basically M.I.A let’s be fr) I wanted to post a little smutshot🤍

———

At college, things happen, and they happen fast.

One minute you’ll be doing homework, and the next you’ll be at a party after a spontaneous invite.

Or you’ll plan for a night with friends but find yourself hooking up with a campus stranger.

It’s the way of life, you’re either going from one extreme to the other, or you’re not really in college.

And that’s exactly what’s currently about to happen to you again. It’s about to be zero to a hundred with you and one of the worst people to walk St Jacklyn halls.

It had started out as you both being out on a walk for fresh air, somehow at the same time. Which turned into a run in as it always does with the two of you— Harry Styles, the colleges token ‘golden’ boy immediately tutting out, “well well, look who else has snuck out for a walk around the halls.”

“How unfortunate our walks have coincided.” You had drawled at him, shaking your head as your feet clacked against the smooth stone flooring.

He had morphed a solo stroll into a joint one, because now he trailed by your side as you wandered the schools dim corridors, “don’t sound so upset, I know y’truly excited by the prospect.”

“Harry, can you fuck off?” Originally, this walk was purposed to clear your muddled head.

One of your ex-friends, Belle, had come up to you in the library— which was turned into a sleeping quarters— with a snide expression written all over her face. She was imploring that in around 2 hours, you check the St Jacklyn gossip page.

It sounds fickle, because it is fickle. The site is dedicated to the drama that goes on at the huge school. And you had been on the front page more than you would’ve liked lately, especially after your fall out with Belle.

“Why would I want to do that…? Plus, I’ve heard word that a story is bubbling about you.” He supplies, and your gaze slants over to him.

His long untamed hair is set free over his shoulders, and his green eyes were already trained on yours.

A sigh breaches through your mouth, the news coming from him is as unfortunate as being murdered before a month long holiday in the tropics. Because if he knows about it, then it just means Belle is telling everyone.

“Do you happen to know what it’s about too?” You ask, half prepared for him to avoid the question.

Which good thing you were expecting it, because that’s just what he did, “She’s being rather venomous. I really didn’t think she’d find footing after what she did to you. Shes much like…” he pauses in thought, brows furrowed as he files through his mind, “like a pest you can’t quite catch.”

“A pest.” You repeat in agreement, the first time you’ve ever sided with him on a statement, despite it being a backhanded dig at the fact you can’t seem to sort it out once and for all.

“Indeed, dove. And from what i know, the news that’s going up is nothing good.” He smirks, hands coming to clasp behind his back.

“Ah, bad news about me on St Jacklyns gossip page. Something you would know nothing about, of course.” You sneer at him, a reminder that you have neither forgiven or forgotten.

“All is fair in love and war, darling.” He justifies with a shrug, “you can’t claim to be a saint either.”

“Never did.” A scoff pasted your lips, “however you cant claim you didn’t start it.”

He overlaps you with his steps, now walking backwards in front of you, his eyes trailing up and down your body, “Just as bitter as ever…”

“Of course I’m bitter.” You spat out, flaring your hands out in quickly bubbling anger.

“You’re acting as if you weren’t the one to tell the blog I was sleeping with Sherman! Which was a fucking lie!”

“And like you didn’t egg my house after it.” He fires back.

“You stole my cat and dyed him green.”

“Well, y’shouldnt let your cat outside.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“And you know what, Y/N, I think you are too.” He smiles, as though he’s proud of you.

“God.” You frustratedly huff out, stopping all together.

He smirks, coming to a halt as well, “Not my name, but I can appreciate the confusion.”

He steps forward into your space, lips curling upward, something mischievous sparkling in his green gaze.

“You are unbelievable.” You shake your head, face contorting with disgust. Trying to ignore his muscles that are popping as he crosses hims arms over his chest.

“Oh, but I have a feeling you love it.” He coos.

“I hate you, Harry.” You grit out, mimicking his stance— turning the sight of the two of you into the likes of a stand off.

“Mmm, you do?” A low hum comes from his throat, licking his lips as he looks at you.

“Harder than you’d ever be able to fathom.” You almost stutter out, mind fumbling as you’re sure he is mapping out some kind of move he’s about to make on you.

Things around here imitate a game of chess, every play as calculated as the next.

He is smiling at your constant digs of his character. You’re so this, you’re so that, you’d kept saying to him. Finding the most offensive describing words you could.

“So unbelievable that if I kissed you right now, you’d be shocked?”

You scowl at him, “not that I think you’d have the balls, but yes, I likely would be.”

“Is that a challenge?” He further perks up at your quip.

You have doubts he’d ever follow through, because you nod, with a cock of your brow. And oh how you were wrong about that. You should’ve known with the way he was eyeing you off like a meal.

He leans forward into your space, fast like the wind, yet his kiss like a breeze. Quick and gentle, and his point proven with a smug smirk being felt against your mouth hardly a second before he pulls away.

You— however shocked and slightly appalled that the enemies mouth just touched yours— are frozen to the spot.

He soaks in the look of surprise on your features, and a part of him tingles with the thrill of kissing someone who he knows could try and ruin his life. Just as you had countless times before.

An adrenaline rush spiked in him, along with something else, something stronger that he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Want your own challenge?” he suggests, derailing from his original plan. He doesn’t wait for an indication of an answer from yourself.

“You wouldn’t dare admit that you enjoyed that.” He muses.

“I didn’t.” You try to force confidence in your voice, certainty. But you’re only sounding defensive, just like a liar.

His words kick you into gear, and you shove his shoulder with the flat of your hand— yet it hardly budges his firm figure in the dim hallway.

“Should we try again?” The direction of the wind had changed, clearly. His voice a low constant hum, leaning forward again, hands brushing gingerly against your waist.

You swear the warm lights upon the walls flicker as though they were a flame being licked by the shift in the air around you.

“No.” You scoff, hands grabbing his wrists where they hung loosely on your hipbone— you’re tempted by his scent, but cautious of his habitual lying.

A wrong move and he will use it against you.

“And why not?” He says, and you choose your next words carefully.

“Because. You have to admit it first.” You state, deciding not to entirely close off the idea of kissing him again, but atleast removing an aspect of vulnerability from it.

“I’ll show you,” he pulls your body further into his, nose nudging against your own. It pushes your face up so your mouth is more accessible to his.

You’re suddenly flushing at the action, this was too far to prove a point— even for you— you decided.

He feels you squirm, “Do you not want me to kiss you? Or are you just nervous around me.”

“Don’t be conceited…” you scowl against his cheek, “you still repulse me.”

His throat makes a deep sound, and he grazes over your mouth. A tease, he does it again, and again.

The heat of his mouth is brushing yours in a torturous cycle— one that doesn’t seem to be ending on his terms. A soft pass of his lower lip, and you’re eager for more, but he pulls away just a fraction. All you can feel is the hot air passing through his parted lips. He doesn’t give in.

“I wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want t’do…” His voice is no more than a whisper. It is truth as much as it is a trap. He’s instating that if you make the next move, you want this.

Everything is in the fine print around here.

You can feel him talking almost against your mouth, the small vibration of every syllable that passes through his lips. It’s tempting beyond belief, beginning to forge a sense of desperation in your body that not even you can condone.

His plan is working to a tea. You hate him so much for it.

He brushes his hands over you, heat radiating from his body. But not pushing into your mouth, just lingering.

Not making a move until you cave against him first.

He somehow knows you like the back of his hand, because you couldn’t resist pushing back into his mouth after all that. Despite the alarm bells absolutely blaring in your head, you went against them completely.

Three minutes of teasing was practically all it was, but it was enough to leave the hairs on your body standing up, and your lungs panting for air.

Enemies spend so much time carving stakes to throw at each other, that along the way they find out more about one another than anyone else. Idiosyncrasies that you somehow learn from warfare, has now stemmed into to being used with the art of… romance or whatever you call it.

Probably not romance— actually not at all romance— but whatever this is.

You know it’s true because right now, your hands are itching to pull his hair. You know he’s into it, since a whole post got aired out about it and you tried to use it against him hardly a few months ago.

He only played it off with a smirk, and an offer to see just how riled up it got him.

Just as now he bites at your lip, a thing he worked out of you when you were absolutely trashed at Belle’s end of semester party.

Something he cant lie he’s been craving to do since he found out.

This kiss goes from teasing and something that’s merely testing boundaries to an entirely fueled makeout session.

There was no room for words suddenly, except muttered curses being shared between the two of you.

Both of you are moving in sync, stepping backwards until his hands fumble with the door of a conveniently placed supply closet.

Your mind is whirling as he guides you into the even darker room. Hardly lit, it made everything feel like you were imagining it. Only outlines are visible, thanks to the thin warm rays of light snaking their way through the gap in the door.

Christ, he is tugging you hard against him, and you want it… his hands skating over your hips and dipping teasingly down to your ass are hardly helping your case.

Finally you get something out of your mouth, “fuck— is this still a part of your stupid agenda? Or do you actually want something?

He grabs your wrist, suddenly guiding it down to a place you can feel just how much he wants something.

You bite down hard on your lip to contain the gasp that almost slipped out as you feel the bulge he’s sporting beneath his jeans, “feel that, baby?”

Fuck… this is going to completely fuck you over. You need him? It hits you like a tonne of bricks, and also straight between your own legs.

A whine exits your mouth quicker than you can hold it back, and you wish for an ounce of shame that Harry just heard that. But you can’t seem to find it.

And infact, he revels in the noise, that high pitched sound of need that comes from you. It fuels him, because he wants to hear more of it.

Neither of you are thinking about circumstances right now. All you can feel is the intense sense of desire.

At least for yourself, the idea of finding a way to royally fuck Harry over is on the back burner.

You remind yourself this is just how college is. Things happen, and that’s fine…

Well, thats how you’re justifying right now. Because in reality, you don’t have a lot else to vouch for yourself with.

Overall, you’re stricken of breath from your actions, both figuratively and literally.

The way Harry’s lips are melded to yours, hot and smooth— kissing your mouth with such keen intent, anyone from the outside would think the situation laid on completely different grounds to the reality.

His body is moving insatiably against yours now, like you’re two people who have been longtime acquaintances or friends that have finally managed to make a move.

His hands skate the skin of your back with fervour, as though you both were strangers that really hit it off at an event.

But you still think those circumstances wouldn’t feel nearly as good as this one did. The hatred that flooded you everytime he was around fuelled you all the same.

Your hand is still placed over his bulge, cupping it as you both half devour each other. It’s hot to know you’re currently placed over his most vulnerable spot, and the fact he’s allowing it.

Especially when there’s enough history to warrant a punch to the groin.

It’s a reminder to how horrid an idea this technically is. That you’re fraternising with the worst person you possibly could.

You pant against him, spitting out a much needed reality check, “Fuck— I still hate you.”

He is your enemy. Your adversary. Your opponent. Not friend, only foe. Yet you’ve landed yourself in this supply closet with him. At your college. While half of your grade level is mingling downstairs.

You can’t tell if you regret picking a college that does so many random community activities. Such as a college sleepout, camping on campus as they’d deemed it.

It was set to strengthen connections with peers and mesh with those you haven’t before upon a familiar location.

And oh, are you meshing with someone you don’t usually…

“Hate me, hm?” He hums against the skin of your throat, baring his teeth and grazing them against it. Evoking a shudder from you at the sensation, which zipped down your spine and furthering the pool of warmth that gathered at the peak of your thighs.

Your hands tightened as they clutched his waist, nails scratching against the muscled flesh as you searched for a response.

“You’re an ass, Harry, I cant forget that even with your tongue in my mouth. And…” He licked a stripe up your neck, drawing back to meet your eye level as you spoke. Suddenly words weren’t coming out again.

“And?” He prompts, “Can’t forget tha’ even when im making you feel this good? When im getting you this worked up? And, probably when you know im able to give you the best orgasm of your life.”

You shoved his chest, yet balling his shirt up so you could immediately pull him closer against you. The idea of going further made you flushed, despite that being the only way everything is headed with the make out session you just had.

But it’s hard to miss the way it’s exactly what your body is rioting for. Not to mention the way his gorgeous and pouty face that’s hardly visible in this light works you up even more.

“Just… shut your mouth. Keep it closed.” You pleaded, letting your hands slide underneath his shirt and scratch against his taut muscles. A part of you longing to see the tattoos hidden beneath.

“How would I do this, then?” He guided his lips back against yours and licked into your mouth. His skilful tongue made you weak against him, the way it swirled around your own.

The exchange almost made your knees buckle where you stood pressed up against the door. Hands wringing against the oddly soft skin of his back, his mouth tasting of mint.

Every part of him was unfairly perfect, down to the way he tasted— which made you almost drool it was that good. But regardless, it’s messed up he’s allowed to walk around being so flawless.

Well, physically flawless anyway… given what flaws he lacks in that department, he makes up for with his subpar personality.

As his warm mouth moves against yours, your hands dipped back down to where his belt laid, toying with the buckle.

He drew his mouth back, yet pushing his thigh forward— slotting it between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Pretty thing, pullin’ on m’belt like you’re desperate for something.”

His words made you shudder, and you know he’s trying to ease you into some kind of submission. And you hate the way it would probably work.

“Desperate? Coming from the one who is already pushing his cock into my hand through his jeans.” The scoff he let out gave you a rush of satisfaction.

Although he didnt verbally retaliate, a hand tucked into your hair and pulled your head back. Exposing your neck so he could suck a harsh mark into it.

“Y’all talk, darling…” he whispers, letting your hair go and slipping his fingers nimbly under your fitted shirt.

His hand is pressed into your breast firmly over the top of your bra, held down by the tight fabric of your top.

It renders you senseless, the feeling of his warm palm atop your skin. Hand held over the heart you swore a million times he wanted to rip out of your chest.

Your own fingertips glide along his arm, feeling the soft hair dusting them, and coming to instinctually clutch his bicep.

There was both fear and arousal pumping through you, it was a sick and twisted adrenaline high that pushed you further into his game.

You unconsciously ground yourself against the thigh his had worked its way between your legs, a whimper slipping out as he gently squeezed your tit.

His name slipped from your mouth, sounding like a desperate plea.

“Y/N, baby.” He mocks almost, “just tell me what you need.”

It’s a shame you didn’t have the strength to even hesitate, “You.”

A satisfied hum from his throat embarrassed you, yet not enough to stop grinding down onto his jean-covered thigh.

His hand retracts from where it was inside your top, and disappears south. Fingers dipping below the fabric of your leggings, and touching over your core like it was nothing.

Your legs nearly gave out as his fingers drew over your fabric covered clit. A noise rattling in your chest as he adds a hint of pressure.

It feels heavenly even over a layer of fabric. Nails were now dug into the flesh of his arm, and your brain starting racing even faster than your heart.

Need, need, need.

That’s the only chorus you could hear in you head, you needed to feel his fingers press inside of you. You would even resort to begging if it came to it.

“Everyone always acts like you’re such a good girl, dove.” He shakes his head, already foreshadowing his disagreement with his tone.

He delivers a flick of your clit, “but you’re not really. Not at all.”

The dampness of your panties could almost make him moan aloud, but he holds himself back, continuing his little speech.

“If only they could see how wet your pussy’s gotten for me. Just how badly you want something from me.”

“Shut up.” You wish it held even a hint of venom, but it was yet another plead to him.

He leans forwards and captures your lips in a short but searing kiss, licking into your mouth for hardly a second before retracting.

“Want my fingers inside of you?” He asks, ignoring your previous complaint.

The idea sounds like a fucking dream right now, and you nod feverishly despite him hardly being able to see it.

“Yes, just do it, please.”

He waits hardly much longer before pushing your soaked underwear aside, allowing his middle finger to slip through your wet centre.

The sensation of the first contact skin-to-skin releases a full body shudder from you, and then furthers into a groan as he eases into your soaked hole.

He wastes no time curving it upward, eager to hear your moans. There’s no resistance as he touches you, you melt into him.

“Fucks sake,” he curses as you rut into his palm, craving the friction of it against your clit.

“So keen to grind yourself all over my hand, huh? Who would’ve thought I’d have you in here tonight, making a mess on my fingers.”

His voice is idilic as it enters your euphoric mind, even though his words are a dig at you, you can help but be turned on even more by it.

“Please…” you whine, although you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for.

He starts to move his hand faster, there’s a level of skill behind it, he knows what he’s doing.

The pressure of his upper palm against your clit, and the circles he’s rubbing inside of you. Pressing at a sweet spot that’s making you drip.

It’s not long before you can hear how wet you are, hardly masked by the moans flying from your mouth.

“Already going to come?” He chuckles, kissing at your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck— Harry…”

He pushes in a second finger, making your back arch in pleasure. Christ, it felt so fucking good.

You are so unbelievably wet, and in the back of your mind you can’t believe he’s got you in a state like this.

Palms fisting at his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get. He can tell you’re starting to unravel between him.

Your hole is pulsing in response to his fast and firm hands, and profanities flying from your lips.

“Cmon, show me how much you hate me, Y/N.”

“I hate you!” You cry, and the feeling of your impending orgasm is taking over your whole body. It’s burning in your stomach, aching in your chest.

His fingers somehow curl faster inside of you, and finally make you snap.

A cry falls from your mouth and your hips jerk harshly against him.

“Ride it out, good girl…” he coos to you, and your head is spinning.

Somehow, as you come down from your high, it was not enough.

“More, Harry.”

A silence envelops you both for a second, “what?”

“Need you inside of me.”

When he doesn’t move to action your request, you start fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

“Woah, slow down baby. Think for a second, gotta let you settle first.” His tone translates as unsure in your mind.

“Do you not want to?” You frown at him, “Just say that, im not going to be—

“No.” He immediately interjects, “not sayin’ that at all dove, just want you to clear y’head for a second.”

His hand has slipped out of your leggings, and his reminder makes you take a deep breath. It was almost sweet, even though it was the bare minimum.

“I’m fine.” You sigh, “thank you, though.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

You’re surprised he has any decency at all in that regard.

“I know…” your hands have now slid his belt off him, “but I want you to fuck me, like fuck me absolutely stupid.”

“God, Y/N.” He rasps, “trying to be so gentle with you right now, an’ y’just want to be filled with my cock.”

“I do, so help me take these off.” You work to slide his jeans down.

There’s a fumble with eachothers clothing that quickly follows, all the sudden shirts are being torn off and pants shucked down from eachothers legs.

Thrown in random directions to be dealt with a later time, because right now all the can be felt is the desire.

“I’ve got a condom.”

“Why the fuck do you have a condom at a school camp out?” You scoffed, but typical of Harry to cart around a condom ‘just incase’.

“Ah well, yknow. Prepared for any occasion.”

You rolled your eyes, hands pressed on his chest, “God you have a way of making a girl feel special.”

“Darling, if you’re worried about that let me show you.” He runs his fingers down your body, lingering on the low of your belly.

“I shouldn’t be so surprised, I know better than anyone you’re one of St Jacklyn’s biggest man whores.”

“Not a man whore, just have an appreciation for a woman’s beauty.”

You lean in to kiss at his jaw, “I’ll pretend that’s not a bit objectifying.”

He groans, subconsciously cocking his head back so you have more room to peck at, “you’re impossible to please.”

“You haven’t tried that hard yet.” You sing, swinging the topic back to its original starting point.

“Oh yea?” He grips at your waist, tearing the condom he pulled from god knows where and moving his briefs down his thighs so he can roll it down his length.

He quickly pushes you back, so your body is pressed into the wall again, and a heat envelopes your body all over again.

His hands are now toying with your underwear, his lips back over yours as he teases you all over again.

You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, and although there’s hardly enough light to get a good look, you can tell he’s big. Perfectly equipped, if you will.

Your hand finds its way to wrap around him, wishing for a second he wasn’t covered with a condom so you could really feel him.

Nevertheless, you give him a slow and steady stroke, taking great pride in the pleasure-filled sigh that gets drawn from his lungs.

“Fuck Y/N…”

“Look who’s whining now, good boy.”

He doesn’t even have the mental resolve to quip back at you, he simply cranes into your touch, mouthing at your chest absentmindedly.

“You’re gonna make m’come before im even inside of you. C’mere.”

He tugs your underwear down all the way, letting you step out of it. Wasting no time sliding his hand around the back of your thigh, lifting it up around his waist.

Your hands run over his shirtless frame, palming at the taut abs he has, trying not to salivate.

“You tell me if you want to stop or change something, alright?”

You nod, but it wasn’t enough for him, “need an answer, darling.”

“Yes, thank you.” Your answer was sighed, a flutter of your eyelids as he presses his cock against your clit.

You whine as he runs his tip through your slit, coating himself in your pooled arousal, his breathing heavy.

He takes his time here, teasing you, pushing into you just enough to have you clenching around him yet still leave you begging him for more.

“Harry, Harry please.”

He knew exactly how to work you so he got this. The begging and pleading to be filled up with him.

“Tell me what y’want.” His voice is raspy, yet drips with honey.

“You.”

He tuts, flicking your sensitive clit, “need more detail than that.”

“Want… fuck.” You roll your hips against him, “want you to fuck me so deep, please. Need to feel you all the way inside of me.”

There was no shame for you right now, all you could focus on was the pulsing need deep in your core, aching to be stretched out by him.

“That’s it dove,” he finally pushes in, moaning in sync with you.

“Fuck, you feel so nice around me.”

Your hole is already clenching around his length, your hips mindlessly grinding down into him. Pulling him in deeper until he’s hitting all the perfect spots.

He groans at your needy rutting against him, making him start to pump inside of you, hardly taking a slow start.

You feel your brain nearly switch off, all but the part that’s associated with him. His scent, his touch, all the history that you’re seemingly fucking out right now.

“Need you to go harder.” You cry, making him almost chuckle.

“What a wonderful thing t’hear from you. That you, the girl who fucking hates me wants me to fuck her senseless.” His statement is panted out, and usually you’d say something snarky back, but right now none of that crosses your mind.

“Please, want you to ruin me…”

Right now that is all you want, to be completely ruined.

He doesn’t take your request light heartedly, he ruts into you with deep and fast strokes. Hand coming to where your clit is, toying with it at the same pace.

He mutters dirty words into your ear as he keeps going, winding you up even when you didn’t think you could anymore.

“Cmon baby, show me how you let go around me.” He pushes, grabbing at the back of your head, lacing his hands into your hair.

He tugs your lips against his, and your moaning against him still, mouth wide open.

His name falls from your tongue like a mantra, over and over again until you’re nearly collapsed. He has to hold you up when you start to come, your knees completely cave in.

“Oh my— oh my god!” Your whole body rocks against his hold, his cock hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know you had.

“Don’t stop, please don’t..” you feel the second he starts to unravel with you, his thrusts lapse in pace and all the sudden his breath stutters.

“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He grunts and falls into you as, “why didn’t we do this earlier, fuckin’ hell.”

His cock twitches inside of you, and both of you are stricken of air, lightheaded but filled with so much pleasure.

“That was so good, Harry…” you kiss at his neck, and his breath passes out as a chuckle.

“Still hate my guts though?” He laughs.

Your palms run down his back, relaxing as he slides out of you, “Mhmm, a good fuck isn’t gonna change that.”

“Atleast you can admit im good in bed.” He teases.

“Technically we’re not in a bed, so not sure if that point stands.”

“Just had you crying out my name as you come around my dick n’ you’re already back to mouthing me off.”

“Mouthing you off, huh?”

He snorts, “right, you dirty thing.”

“Can mouth you off if you beg for it.”

“Already want a round two with me, isn’t that saying something.” He stares at you, lips curling into a smile.

“You made me finish twice, seems only fair.” You suggest.

And suddenly, you realised you’ve gotten into a very dangerous spiral with a very dangerous player in your game.

Only time will tell…

———

a/n: I have hardly edited this but I really really just wanted to post again, I hope it’s okay and the writing isn’t too rusty lol

[ew-selfish-art]

DPxDC AU: Tim receives an interesting email from DalvCo explaining why the CEO is not to be trusted- It's an internal email and suddenly Tim is experiencing supernatural phenomena. He knows that the two events are absolutely related, but he's going to let the cutie stumble his way through data points and vague threats anyway.

(Sorry this got long lmao)

Tim is exhausted after a long night of staking out a new drug cartel with Hood (which in itself took a lot of energy from both of them to have the patience for the other- things are good, not great)... so right now he's logging into his WE email on the train to his office because he's incredibly late. And while he scrolls and contemplates the failsafes he has to make sure Tam doesn't murder him outright- he sees an unexpected email from Vladimir Masters.

Tim's curiosity is piqued, he'd thought that Vlad would have gotten the hint after Tim dismissed him at that Christmas gala a few years ago. Most people took Tim's snubbing as a fatality in the Gotham socialite scene- Most knew him to be 'an agreeable young man', and Tim's reputation had paid a small price for making Vlad's failed vibe check known to the room. The tabloids blamed it on the champagne glass he had in his hand- Has he mentioned how much he hates Vicky Vale lately??

Tim has a few stops to go and he's pretty sure that he's going to delete the email, but in sleep deprived inspiration, he decides it might as well entertain him while he waits. The letter isn't at all what he expected.

"Hello Wayne Enterprise's CEO Tim Drake, I'm sending you this letter on behalf of the entire Midwest to advise that you, under no circumstances, come into contact with or speak to the CEO of DalvCo Vlad Masters. He is underhanded and utilizes untraceable tactics to procure deals. We have reason to believe you may be targeted in the next few days and hope that you are able to take steps for your own safety to avoid Vlad Masters at all costs.

Sincerely, 👑"

Tim feels bewildered for a moment and then... Like a cat with a new toy mouse. A game was afoot! He needed to track down these hackers, he needed to be their best fucking friend (find out their secrets & Vlads) and he needed to apprehend Vlad ASAP! Untraceable tactics? Tim scoffs, but the challenge excites him.

Arriving at WE, Tam looks ready to throw a knife his way (he reminds her that Pru does it better) and states that if Vlad Masters tries to make an appointment- accept it but give him the run around. Make an appointment and continue to contest it, change it, delay it until Tim is actually ready for him. The lights start to flicker, both of them notice it.

Everytime Tim gets a second to investigate Vlad in his office, the room's temperature drops. Tim notices it, and having experienced a number of supernatural phenomena, he knows it has to be related.

Tim decides not to beat around the bush. He comes back to the office that night equipped with a Ouija board, candles and a bag of other occult accessories. He quickly finds, upon setting up, that there is now a groaning Teenager in front of him- lambasting his efforts and chastizing him for taking a meeting with Vlad. Did he not get the fuckin memo??

Tim quickly begins to ask his questions, grateful to not have to deal with the party game board, and takes diligent notes.

"Right, so, you're just a concerned citizen ghost who knows what kind of nefarious deeds Vlad gets up to, how?" ---

Danny is losing his shit. Here he is, having done all the ground work to tell this guy not to meet with Vlad and he's already got him on the schedule! Danny took a page from Technus' book and transported himself alongside the short email. He didn't get this guy at all! Tim was like, basically the same age and clearly super fucking smart, why was he acting like this was a fucking birthday gift? Scratch that, the dude has a Ouija Board- it's like a lame ass birthday party in here!

Danny cannot help himself but return to the visible spectrum and give this guy a talking to- Which, the atmosphere of a birthday party still doesn't change, for ancient's sake this guy is taking notes with a megawatt smile! He's smiling! Danny just described Vlad taking down like, three American dynasties and the dude is nodding his head along gleefully.

Then suddenly, Danny realizes that he might be on the chopping block. Tim asks his first question and it's not about Vlad at all.

"Er, yeah. Just a concerned ghost citizen." Danny cringes.

"Right, and that's why you hacked into the Mayor of your town's email... Right Tucker?"

Danny blanches, not because the guy knew about Amity Park, but because apparently Tucker's online persona had been compromised. SHIT.

"Uh, I'm not Tucker." Danny attempts to lie- why was he so bad at lying again?!

"Of course you aren't, he's currently playing doomed, but it would have been smart to take the out I offered you. Do you want to tell me your name or do you want me to throw out another random guess? You should know that I've done my homework."

"...It's Danny."

"Certainly not Danny Fenton? Who is, sorry to say it, heir to DalvCo? The same one who totally doesn't have a school record of absences equivalent to well documented town hauntings?"

"Yep." Danny cringes, and giving up the goat, transforms back into his human self, "But seriously dude, you can't meet with Vlad. He'll just... take it all."

Tim blinks at him a few times, and his cheeks flush. Danny desperately tries to ignore that response as well as his own (he knows his ears are red, sue him).

"Right. Well, how would you like an internship? First order of business would be meeting with me and my PA Tam and helping us play ball." The guy has a feral grin. The grin kind of scares Danny, it definitely annoys him and a small part of him is curiously charmed.

"Dude you're not hearing me-" Danny tries before being cut off.

"Yeah yeah, supernatural bullshit is involved, Got that." Tim waves him off. Okay never mind, not charmed at all, Danny is completely annoyed.

"I swear to all the ancients-" Danny has to stop himself to calm down, "Dude consider yourself fucking haunted. I'm not helping you with a suicide mission to talk to the creep and I will be making your ass miserable for deciding to go down this path."

"Is that a promise?" Tim is basically batting his eyelashes at Danny and Danny is desperately trying to ignore that.

"Bet." And then he goes invisible.

"That's cute, pretending to leave me." Tim smirks and Danny can't help but let out an exasperated groan.

As it turns out, Tim is incredibly difficult to spook and his normal haunting methods are not fucking working. Has this guy just, like, seen every single horror movie?

----

Tim knows this is going to be fun, even if it means not going out as Red Robin for a while... Maybe he should get back into his night photography and give the guy a chance to enhance the creepiness of Gotham? Maybe start going to restaurants alone and get the guy to join him at a secluded two person table? Tim has plans on plans on plans.

[taevbears]

Movie Night

When horror movies don't scare you anymore, your boyfriend wants to figure out what you are afraid of.

⤑ pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader (feat. the Daegu boys) ⤑ genre: horror, mystery, suspense, one-shot ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 6.1k ⤑ warnings: obsessive behavior, stalking, depictions of kidnapping, torture, and multiple murders, hidden camera, non-explicit sex, a bit of angst, open ending. this fic gets pretty dark, so please be cautious of the warnings! ⤑ note: happy halloween! this started as a little spooky shower thought i had a little over a month ago and became this lol. i love reading scary stories, but lmao, i feel like i'm not very good at writing them. thank you @angelicyoongie for assuring me that this isn't as terrible as i think it is. also please note that this is a work of fiction and i don't think IRL jungkook is like the character in this fic at all

“No, please! Don’t hurt me!”

The shadow of a muscular, male figure looms over the female protagonist. His breaths are heavy from chasing her around, barely visible against the chilly, October air. Finally, he has her cornered. He holds up a sharp knife in the air.

The woman trembles on the ground, sobbing and pleading for her life to be spared. Mascara runs down her cheeks, and a look of hopelessness and despair fills her eyes. She holds her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to defend herself.

The camera pans away as the killer violently stabs the woman. Her terrifying screams of pain and anguish echoes from the TV screen as fake blood splatters on the wall.

Blue and white light bathes over you and your date in the dim living room. You try to suppress a long yawn with the back of your hand.

You’re so bored, you’re practically in tears.

“You didn’t like it?” Jungkook asks you, chuckling at your reaction.

“It didn’t scare me,” you admit sheepishly, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea.

You love horror movies. It’s what inspired you to become a film student. You love being on the edge of your seat from the thrill and suspense that the main character acts out. You love being genuinely shocked from unexpected twists and jump-scares. You love a good ghost story that haunts you long after the credits roll, or the paranoia of a similar terrifying incident happening to you.

But perhaps, over time, they’ve lost a bit of their magic.

Although the production of movies has become phenomenal in recent years, movies these days seem to rely too heavily on shock value and nostalgia. Once popular franchises are milking out their legacies to a newer audience. There are so many retellings of the same, old stories that you can already accurately predict what will happen before you reach the ending. Even some of the most climactic scenes of the movie are so over-the-top, they’re almost comical.

Honestly, it has nothing to do with your date or even the so-called horror movie itself. You just don’t scare as easily anymore.

Jungkook peers are you curiously, a boyish grin on his face. “Then, what are you scared of?”

“I don’t know. Probably nothing.”

“Yeah? That’s a bold statement.”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

Jungkook laughs. “You have to be scared of something.”

You throw the question back at him. “Then, what are you afraid of?”

He thinks about it, rubbing his chin in thought and pushing his tongue against the lip rings on his mouth. Then, he meets your gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he smiles at you. “Hmm, I think I’d be scared to lose you.”

You find yourself smiling back at him.

“You’re so sweet, Kook,” you tell him, leaning over to kiss him.

Only recently, you and Jungkook started dating officially, and you really like him a lot. He’s very cute, funny, handsome, and perfect in many ways. Butterflies flutter in your stomach when you’re around him, and there’s still that exciting giddiness and eagerness of new love whenever he messages you or visits you in the evening.

In some ways, Jungkook is almost too good to be true.

Part of you wonders if there’s a catch.

But with his lips on yours, it’s easy to push that thought aside.

Credits roll on the screen as the movie comes to an end. His fingers glide up your thigh as yours tangle into his hair. The cool piercing on his lips presses against your bottom lip as he slips his tongue in your mouth, and a soft moan escapes you.

Suddenly, Jungkook pulls away and faces the TV. He uses the remote to tap out of the movie credits and browse through the list of recommended shows on your streaming service. Casually, trying to hide a teasing smirk, he asks, “How about we watch a different movie, then?”

You stare back at him, a bit stunned and flustered. But your own smile touches your lips.

“Or,” you suggest, grabbing his wrist to lower the remote. He turns away from the screen to look at you, eyes lingering on the sultry smile on your lips. “I know something else we can do instead.”

When you first saw Jungkook, you thought you were being catfished.

His selfie on the dating app included a slight head tilt, a pucker of his pierced lips, and a peace sign. Big, doe-shaped eyes stared back at you from your phone screen, and you noticed the tiny moles below his lip, on the tip of his nose, and on his cheek.

The second picture was of him and his brown doberman, affectionately named Bam. The picture was taken of them outside. One of his hands was holding a tennis ball and the other was gently touching the dog’s long ears. A small, fond smile tugged on your lips when you looked between them and realized that they kind of looked alike.

The third picture was him at the gym. It was a back-shot where he was using the equipment. Broad shoulders, buff arms and back, a tiny waist. You stared way too long at his strong muscles and the ink on his arm before you finally swiped right.

Turned out, much to your surprise, he liked your pictures too. The two of you were a match.

And it wasn’t long until he sent his first message to you. In your inbox, a simple: “hey :)”

On your first date, the two of you agreed to meet at a very public, very crowded bistro. You stood nervously by the building, dressed nice for the occasion. And in case anything went wrong or if this Jungkook guy wasn’t who you expected him to be, you shared your location and had a “send help lol” message on standby for your bestie, Min Yoongi.

As you waited, scrolling through and jumping around different apps on your phone, you found yourself to be surprised yet again.

Someone who looked like the guy you’ve been chatting with called out your name. And soon, he was standing in front of you: big eyes, bigger muscles, tiny beauty marks on his face, colorful ink on his arm, a charming smile, and a simple, “Hey, I’m Jungkook.”

One date turned to a second date. Then, a third. And by the fourth date, as he laid in your bed that night and snuggled close to you, it finally started to sink in that Jungkook wasn’t some figment of your imagination.

He was real, and sweet, and seemed to really like you as well.

Jungkook, like you, had an interest in filming. He especially liked editing videos for his dance challenges, short clips, and a series he called “Golden Closet Film” on his channel. While you imagined yourself to be a big director, working in movie sets, and making scripts come to life with your vision, Jungkook told you he’d like to film a project where you’re the star.

“I don’t think I’m on-screen material,” you replied, amused by the idea. You’re not an actress. You don’t think you have the kind of beauty filmmakers seek out for their lead roles. Hell, if anything, Jungkook would be a better fit for an acting gig.

“You are,” he insisted, brushing his thumb against your knuckles. “To me, you’re perfect.”

You smiled at him then, your heart fluttering by his words. “You are to me, too.”

It was shortly after that conversation when you both decided to date each other exclusively. And it felt like the kind of romance you’d see in the movies. Picture perfect, a little corny at times, and a thrilling whirlwind of laughter, teasing remarks, and intimate touches.

“Am I who you thought I’d be?” Jungkook asks you the next morning after the movie-night bust, propping himself up on the side and peering down on you. His arm flexes, colorful ink decorating it, as the thick comforter wraps around his bare body.

“No,” you confessed, still a bit tired from last night. You keep your eyes closed as you quietly murmur, “You’re even better.”

“Yeah?”

You don’t need to open your eyes to see the pleased look on his face. As you feel him press his lips against your cheek, you ask, “What about me? Am I who you thought I’d be?”

Had you opened your eyes then, perhaps you would’ve seen it. The blank look on his face as he pulls away from you, how the light in his eyes suddenly seems to vanish, as if he isn’t really looking at you anymore.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you right away. When you open your eyes, you see him shaking his head. The same, sweet boyish smile appears on his lips.

“You’re exactly what I’m looking for.”

The topic about exes inevitably came up early on in your relationship with Jungkook. You’ve dated casually before. Even thought you’d be getting somewhere with some of the guys you were talking to.

But none of them quite compared to Kim Taehyung.

You were a film student. He was a photography major. The two of you were bound to end up in some of the same classes together in the art division.

To you, it was love at first sight. You fell for him so hard and so fast.

What started as bumping into each other at the library and helping each other with assignments led to making out at each other’s dorms with the text books left unopened. Coffee dates between classes became anniversary dinners at nice restaurants. He introduced you to his parents, and you proposed going on a romantic getaway together.

The day you didn’t think you’d ever love anyone else was when he snapped a photo of you looking out at the scenery during that weekend trip. It was just you and him, and a natural setting that looked straight out of a movie.

He smiled to himself as he looked at the picture through his camera. That day, he called you his muse.

And in return, you told him that you loved him.

When you fell for Taehyung, you fell hard and fast. Eventually, it occurred to you that Taehyung didn’t do the same.

Sure, he cared about you. Sure, he loved you. But while you heard wedding bells and dreamed about your future with him, Taehyung was just starting to put himself out there in the world. His art was being recognized, and he was getting booked to shoot at weddings, parties, and other big events every week.

Soon, the dates happened less frequently. The romantic gestures of bringing you flowers, surprising you on nice dates or small gifts, or even renting your favorite movies to watch together happened even less. He would promise that he’d make it to a party or an important event to you, just to let you down. And it felt like him giving you a bit of affection or attention was a chore.

Taehyung was the world to you, but the petty arguments and the distance that started growing between you two made it clear to you where his priorities were. And it wasn’t with you.

Breaking up with him was the hardest thing you had to do. Both of you knew it was coming. It was just a matter of who broke up with who first.

Just as Taehyung came into your life, quickly and effortlessly, he was gone. Nothing but bittersweet memories of what once was and what could have been weighed heavily on you for months.

What made it worse was that Taehyung, a man you loved with all your heart, had moved on from you so fast and so easily.

You saw him and his new girlfriend at a mutual friend’s party. You were warned that he’d be there, that he was already seeing someone. But it still hurt like hell to see him happy and in love with another person.

But if Taehyung could move on, so could you.

It felt weird at first, but you started to put yourself out there again. You joined dating apps. You went out with the people that fancied your interest. You met Jungkook.

And from there, everything was history.

With Jungkook, you started to think about Taehyung a lot less. The plaguing “what ifs” have quieted down, and the hurt from heartbreak began to heal. With Jungkook, you started to feel like yourself again: you started to smile more, laugh more loudly, enjoy watching movies again, became passionate about cinematic ideas you’d like to create one day.

With Jungkook, you’re also cautiously optimistic.

Because like Taehyung, you feel yourself falling hard and fast for Jungkook. It’s almost scary how truly perfect he is.

“I think you’re just psyching yourself out,” Yoongi tells you, sliding into the chair opposite of you with two cups of coffee in his hands. He smells like freshly-baked cookies. A spot of flour stains his apron as he uses his fifteen-minute break to hang out with you.

“Maybe,” you sigh, gratefully taking the drink he hands you. “What do you think about him?”

“Does my opinion even matter at this point? You’re in love with him,” he drawls before taking a sip of his Iced Americano.

“Of course it does, best friend. Why else would I keep you around?” you remark, taking a sip of your own drink. “Besides the free coffee and cookies. Thank you, by the way.”

He rolls his eyes. The perks of being friends with the cookie boy at your local bakery is a free cup of coffee and getting dibs on leftover treats that didn’t sell the day.

“He’s fine. Kind of annoying. A little too energetic,” he answers as his eyes flit toward the TV screen that his boss keeps on. A woman dressed in bright, business clothing holds a microphone as she reports on the recent news. There’s a grim look on her face.

You have your back turned to it, but you can hear Yoongi’s boss turning up the volume.

Breaking news. Missing woman found dead near home. The victim has succumbed to multiple stab wounds. It is believed that she has been kidnapped and tortured prior to her violent death. The attacker is currently unknown and still at large. Local authorities advise staying indoors and to please report any suspicious activity.

Your heart sinks as you look over your shoulder, seeing police taping off the crime scene and answering what they can to the news outlets. The location is so close to where you are.

“This is the second victim,” a customer mutters with a frown.

The person they’re with nods their head and asks, “Do you think they’re connected?”

“I don’t know. I hope not. We’ll have a serial killer in our hands.”

“Hey,” Yoongi calls your attention. When you look at him, there’s concern on his face. “If you need a ride anywhere, make sure you call me. Doesn’t matter what time.”

“I’ll be okay, Yoongi. Jungkook usually comes to my place anyway.”

“Still. Just let me know that you’re still alive when I check in, all right?” he says as he stares at the screen. You don’t blame him for being worried. As you follow his gaze, you see a picture of the latest victim of the ongoing case that has the whole town on edge.

This woman, like the others, kind of looks like you.

“If you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, throwing a tennis ball as Bam hurriedly chases after it. 

The two of you are at a park with his dobermann. Despite how scary it’s been lately with the news, it’s a nice day. Children are screaming and playing together on the playground as their parents watch them nearby. A group of teenage boys are playing basketball on the outdoor court. Middle-aged and elderly couples are paired up and are getting their daily steps in.

“My hero,” you joke half-heartedly, but you’re still a bit concerned. Yoongi being worried about you makes you feel paranoid.

Jungkook turns to you. He holds out his hand as Bam retrieves the ball and drops it for another throw. “I thought you weren't afraid of anything.”

“Movie-wise, I’m not. But this is different.”

Jungkook throws the slobbery ball again. Further this time as Bam barks happily and takes off. He takes a seat next to you on the park bench. “I can leave Bam with you when I have my evening shifts. He makes a good guard dog.”

He works as an editor and cameraman for a big content creator, which gives him lots of flexible hours to work on his projects when he isn’t busy filming. Since the beginning of autumn, his boss has been giving him evening work to film ghost-hunting videos and other spooky content for Halloween.

“That’ll be nice,” you reply with a small smile. The two of them have been coming to your place so often, it might as well be their second home.

From a short distance, Bam lies on the grass with the tennis ball by his paws. His tongue is out, needing a short break from running around, as he faces you and Jungkook. Even with other dogs and kids around, he’s very well-behaved.

Just as Jungkook tells you that he’ll get Bam, the sound of small, excited barks grab your attention. A familiar black and brown pomeranian approaches you like an old friend, wagging its tail and perking its ears up when it sees you.

Your heart nearly jumps when you recognize the dog.

“Tan!”

You know that voice. How could you not?

That deep, smooth baritone has haunted you for months.

Taehyung, your ex-boyfriend, stops in his tracks when he realizes why his pomeranian took off. The two of you were still together when he adopted Yeontan, and you were there to help raise him when he was still a puppy.

“Who’s this?” Jungkook asks, drawing your attention back to him. He reaches out to pet Yeontan, but the pomeranian growls at him. Almost like he wants to protect you from him.

“Sorry, he’s mine,” Taehyung apologizes, stepping closer to you two and picking his dog up. He looks at you as he tries to soothe the agitated Yeontan in his arms. “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”

“Good,” you reply politely. Old feelings start to pull on your heart strings that you fervently try to ignore. “I’m good.”

“You look good,” Taehyung starts, but then he purses his lips in regret. It’s obvious that he’s nervous to talk to you. Maybe he feels the same as you.

Softly, you reply, “You do, too.”

“Who’s this?” Jungkook repeats. This time, there’s an annoyed look on his face as he stares at Taehyung. 

It puts you off a bit. Jungkook is usually a friendly guy.

“Oh, this is Taehyung. We used to date,” you tell him honestly. Though, the information seems to just annoy him more. “Taehyung, this is—”

“I’m Jungkook. She’s my girlfriend now.”

His arm snakes around you possessively. He holds a steady gaze, but it’s a look you’ve never seen on him before. Dark, threatening, and angry. It’s almost unnerving.

“I see…” Taehyung trails off as his gaze shifts toward him. Yeontan is still in his arms, growling and barking at Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the pup so aggressive toward someone. Even Bam comes over, ditching his ball to guard over you and Jungkook.

“It was nice to see you, Taehyung,” you tell him, sensing the tension in the air and deciding to cut things off. He seems reluctant to leave.

“Yeah…” he continues to trail off, finally pulling his gaze away to look at you. It looks like there’s a million things he wants to say to you. In a lower tone, he tells you, “My number is still the same. If you ever want to talk.”

You frown. After the breakup, you’ve deleted his number and unfollowed him on social media. “Oh, I don’t—”

“Then I’ll call you,” he promises, firm with his decision.

You don’t get it. You and Taehyung have run into each other after the breakup before, and he’s never had an issue with you dating anyone after him. He clearly has moved on, and so have you. 

Why now?

What is it about Jungkook that has him worried for you?

“I don’t like that guy.”

Jungkook is still heated as he drives you home. His grip is tight around the steering wheel, and the tires screech when he makes a sharp turn. Bam stumbles a bit in the back before sticking his head out the window again.

“Slow down, Kook. You have nothing to be worried about.”

The radio blasts in the car, too much in a rush to connect his playlist to the stereo. It’s playing the week’s top music, and a catchy song from a popular artist fills the car.

Curious, you open your phone and check your followers. You’ve unfollowed Taehyung a long time ago on all your social platforms, finding it hard to look at any of his recent pictures – even just his scenic photography – without thinking about how he had once called you his muse.

But Taehyung never unfollowed you. He had always kept his inbox open for you.

“Did you see the way he was looking at me? It’s like he was looking down on me,” he continues to rant, speeding over a yellow light. He glances over at you and sees that you’re distracted with your phone. “I don’t like how you were looking at him either.”

“Are you serious?” you ask, turning your attention to him. “We barely talked. What the hell are you trying to insinuate?”

On the radio, the program is interrupted. One of the hosts makes a grim announcement.

Ladies and gentlemen, we just received unfortunate news that a third body has been found pertaining to a series of brutal deaths. 

“You still love him! You’ll go back and leave me again!” he suddenly snaps, throwing you off guard.

Silence follows the tension.

Then, you inquire, “Again?”

The third victim is a young female. Hair color and eye color match the previous victims as well, indicating that this might be a targeted attack by the killer.

Not once have you been unfaithful to Jungkook. Even when you were starting to message each other, you weren’t talking to anyone else. The two of you haven’t even been dating that long.

“Forget I said anything,” he starts with a frustrated sigh. But he realizes he’s fucked up.

“No, I’m not just going to forget it. What do you mean by that, Jungkook?”

As of now, authorities have no leads on a suspect. All victims have been kidnapped, tied up, and tortured prior to their deaths. We are led to believe that this is the work of a potential serial killer. 

He nearly slams to a stop. The seatbelt around you yanks you back from hitting the dashboard. Bam falls to the floor and you gasp as the back of your head hits your seat.

Jungkook doesn’t answer you, but for the first time, it feels like the rose-tinted glasses you have on him have fallen off. He’s always been perfect to you: sweet, athletic, talented, and kind. But the Jungkook before you is someone completely different.

This Jungkook scares you.

Stay inside. Lock your doors. Call the police if you see anything suspicious. Be safe out there, folks.

“I told you to forget about it, didn’t I?” he asks through gritted teeth and a harsh look in his eye.

You nod your head, hands trembling a bit as you hold onto your vibrating phone. The screen shows an unknown number trying to contact you.

“Is there a reason why your boyfriend called me?” Yoongi asks you from the other line. He has you on face-time, awkwardly propping up the camera to show his elbow as he mixes a batch of cookies.

It’s been about a week since you saw Jungkook.

After he dropped you off at home, he wanted to put it all behind him. He kissed you sweetly and murmured apologies for overreacting as his hands slipped under your shirt. But you sent him home before he could convince you to sleep with him. You were still upset about how hostile he was toward Taehyung, his accusations about you, and what his outburst meant.

That hasn’t stopped him from trying to get back to your good graces, though.

The number of missed calls from him keeps increasing by the hour. Ones that you leave unanswered or send straight to your voicemail. 

You don’t want to talk to him.

At your door, you hear him rapping his knuckles against the wooden frame and insistently ringing at your doorbell. From the other side of the door, he begs for a chance to explain. 

You don’t want to see him.

Clearly, after reaching you directly hasn’t worked, he’s starting to contact your friends.

“He’s probably trying to find me,” you tell Yoongi, poking at a bowl of fresh strawberries. You’re still dressed in your pajamas, sitting on a stool by the kitchen counter.

The sound of a small dog can be heard in the background of your line. It dawns on him that you’re not at your place or Jungkook’s.

Yoongi is silent for a moment. Then, he grabs the phone and asks, “What do you mean? Where are you?”

You don’t feel safe in your own home. And that day, while you were in Jungkook’s car, Taehyung called to check up on you. He was always good at reading people, and he warned you that he had a bad vibe about Jungkook.

And you’re starting to see what he meant.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

When you turn your phone, you reveal Taehyung busy in the kitchen, cutting off the crusts from his sandwiches. He looks over his shoulder and gives a sheepish smile at the scandalized expression on your best friend’s face. “Hey Yoongi.”

“Can you please explain what’s going on? Why are you at your ex’s?”

So, you do. You tell him that Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone, that you needed some space to cool off but he wouldn’t let you breathe. It was becoming overbearing and overwhelming.

Against your better judgment, you call Taehyung. He invites you to stay over at his place until you’re ready to talk things out with Jungkook. Because even if you’re not together, he still cares about you. Because a part of him will always love you. And at the time, it seemed like a good idea.

“I didn’t want to be alone, especially with a killer targeting women like me out there,” you explain quietly. It feels like the murders have increased in a shorter period of time. If the town wasn’t on edge before, they certainly are now. “But I was still mad at Jungkook, and he was starting to scare me.”

“So the first person you go to is your ex-boyfriend?”

“There’s nothing going on between us.”

That ship has sailed. You know it has when you walked in and saw his engagement pictures hanging on the wall.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m sure he would’ve figured out that I’d be with you,” you tell him with a frown.

“I just wanted to help her, hyung,” Taehyung adds as he stands behind you. “I worry about her too. That guy gives me and Tan a bad feeling.”

Yoongi sighs. “Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea either. You shouldn’t stay with Taehyung. It’ll just make things look a lot worse.”

“I guess you’re right,” you reluctantly agree. Taehyung grimaces, but he can see Yoongi’s point too.

“I’ll pick you up after my shift. You can stay with me until you’re ready to talk to Jungkook,” Yoongi tells you, looking rather serious. “Don’t do anything stupid in the meantime, okay?”

Hey. It’s Jungkook.

You stare at the message on your phone. Three dots that indicate that he’s typing something, but he keeps erasing and re-typing them again. As if he’s trying to properly convey his words.

Are we breaking up?

You stare at that message even longer. It feels childish to break up with him without trying to talk to him. For the first time in a week, you pick up your phone and type back.

You scared me, Kook.

His response is immediate.

I thought you weren’t scared of anything.

You huff when you realize he’s teasing you, even now.

Movie-wise, I’m not. But this. This is different, Kook. You were really scaring me.

Again, you see the dots appear and disappear before a handful of responses appear.

I know, babe. I’m sorry. Can you please come over? I want to show you something I’ve been working on.

You think about it.

I miss you. Bam misses you too.

Yoongi said not to do anything stupid.

Please, baby. We can just watch a movie, if you want.

But, like in every horror movie, the protagonist finds themselves making a plethora of stupid decisions.

Okay, Kook. I’ll come tonight.

Movie nights with Jungkook was one of the things you always looked forward to throughout the week. Nothing appealed to you more than a night-in with your boyfriend, food delivered at your door, and checking out new shows and movies.

You have your list of favorites, but nothing quite holds a place in your heart than a good ol’ horror movie. Tellings of urban legends, supernatural forces, paranormal activities, true crime, and slasher films. 

As you step into Jungkook’s house, it almost feels like you’re in one of those movies.

His place is dark, almost pitched black. You could barely see what’s in front of you.

“Come inside,” Jungkook says, grabbing your hand. He pulls you in and deadbolts the door behind you.

“It’s so dark,” you remark, gingerly stepping forward. You have a bad feeling about this. You almost pull back toward the door, thinking of waiting for Yoongi or going back to Taehyung instead.

But Jungkook has a firm grip on you. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“This is different, Kook,” you try to reason. “You’re really freaking me out.”

He pulls you further inside. In the living room, nothing but the TV is on. The screen is paused on a homemade film.

This must be the project that Jungkook is talking about.

Everything is set. The living room is clean, a bowl of popcorn and a couple bottles of alcohol sits on the coffee table, the lights are off, and the show is ready to play. He sits you down in the middle and keeps an arm around you.

“You know, when we met, you were exactly what I was looking for,” he starts as he presses play.

The tape shows you. Bam lying on your lap as you affectionately pet his face and kiss the top of his head. You, holding Jungkook’s hand and leading him down a busy sidewalk. You, in the kitchen, trying to swat his hand away as he steals your ingredients. You and Jungkook, peering into the camera lens, and your bashful face as he kisses your cheek. 

A smile tugs on your lips as you watch yourself on the screen. Jungkook leans over, copying his onscreen self and kisses your face.

One thing you liked about filming is seeing things from a different perspective. In this case, seeing yourself through Jungkook’s eyes. You look so happy, so incredibly in love with him.

Like with Taehyung, you fell for Jungkook hard and fast.

But Jungkook fell for you harder and faster.

Your smile fades as the next scene shows.

The camera points to the bed, and a couple walks in. It’s you and Jungkook, stumbling in together after drinks at a bar. You’re laughing and trying to wrap your arms around him as he leads you onto the bed. The kiss you share is messy, heated. You tug off his clothes to feel more of him.

You remember that night, but…

“Jungkook. When did you record this?”

You had no idea he was filming you then.

You don’t realize it then, but he makes eye contact with the camera, as if to check that it’s on. He maneuvers you to get a good angle of your body as you busy yourself with your own clothes, wanting him to touch you more as well.

“Jungkook, stop. I didn’t—” 

You feel so sick to your stomach.

“Don’t cry, baby. Here, I’ll fast-forward.”

But you don’t want to watch anymore. You want to leave. You shouldn’t have come here.

The screen shows you and Yoongi. The two of you are at the bakery he works at, and you’re wearing an old cardigan that you got rid of . You smile and eagerly reach for one of the coffees in his hands and take the bag of cookies he’s holding between his lips. He rolls his eyes at something you say before he takes his first sip of his Iced Americano. It’s a typical hangout between you and him.

It looks like it was taken across the street. Your heart plummets even further when you realize that the old cardigan you’re wearing was a piece of clothing you got rid of before you met Jungkook.

The scene changes. You’re sitting at the fountain at your university, looking over a script you wrote for an assignment. Taehyung comes to take a seat next to you. He greets you with a boxy smile and a kiss. The two of you were still dating at the time.

How long has Jungkook known about you?

How long has he been targeting you?

It’s you and Taehyung again. This time, it was filmed from the other night. When Taehyung came to pick you up from your house. He helps you carry some of your things into his car and hugs you when he sees the distressed look on your face. 

“Jungkook, what the fuck?”

It dawns on you that you don’t really know your boyfriend at all.

You try to stand up, but Jungkook has a firm hold on you. His grip tightens when you try to resist him, and his hand seizes your neck as he pushes you down. Your heart hammers against your ribs when you quickly realize you can’t escape him. Jungkook is much stronger and faster than you are.

More images flash through the screen. It’s Jungkook this time, taking a mirror-selfie of himself dressed in all black. He has his hood up and a Halloween mask covering his face. 

It cuts to his feet walking across the sidewalk. Carefully, the camera tilts up, showing that there’s a woman just ahead of him. She’s about your height, her hair the same as yours. She doesn’t notice him as she listens to music playing in her earbuds. 

The scene cuts again, and the same woman is bound and gagged on a chair. Fear shines through her eyes as a shadow of a knife reflects from her body. Behind the camera, Jungkook demands, “Say your line.”

He removes the gag from her mouth. Her voice pitches in a high shrill as she quickly says, “I-I love you. I won’t leave you.”

You recognize her as the latest victim of the latest killings.

And the realization hits you like a truck. Jungkook and his night shifts, the increasing deaths, his interest in filming, having you as the star.

“I practiced, you know. I’ll get it right this time,” he tells you, pulling out some rope he had hidden behind the cushion. You’re trembling as he wraps them tightly around your wrist. “I’ll make sure you don’t leave me again.”

“You’re so bad,” the Jungkook on the screen says, showing what looks like an abandoned warehouse. It’s dimly lit, but you can hear someone running from him. But he doesn’t seem worried, his heavy footsteps casually echo across the concrete. In his hand is a sharp and bloody knife. Mockingly, he asks, “Where did you think you’d go?”

The victim has been let go, but she isn’t free. Ahead, she finds herself cornered as Jungkook catches up to her. Terrified, she holds her hands out in front of her, as if that would stop him.

It’s like seeing your own fate on the screen.

The woman begs and screams before her blood splatters across the floor. You find yourself quoting her, staring up at his darkened eyes. “No, please. Don’t hurt me.”

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, staring right at you. His mouth twitches, fighting a smile. “I thought you liked horror movies.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

[holycrimin]

In honor of me getting my first ever TMNT Comic,

here's Leo with a crush who gets overly excited when gifted something they're obsessed/hyperfixated with (cough definitely not me cough)

while I did buy the comic for myself (it was an Eastman and Laird's TMNT adventure special) I wanted to explore this more because my brain is way too active and i need an outlet lol

pls dont blame me if its a little ooc, im trying my best and this is impulsive T0T

note: Reader uses they/them, Leo is a massive dork, semi proofread

2012!Leo x Expressive!Reader

Saw something he thought you'd like while on patrol,

"Hey guys, you think they'll like this?" He looks throught the window.

They snicker and shit on him (lovingly in a sibling way)

Whether it was a poster or figurine or comic, he's getting that baby just for you

Obviously he'd get it by paying because stealing would be wrong.

And by paying he means snatching it in the middle of the night and leaving a twenty with an apology note

Because that's what heroes do

anyway

Hops up to your apartment,

(with his brothers watching from the shadows because they absolutely cannot resist a good show. yes, even Donnie; like a true hypocrite)

He makes sure that neither your parents are there with you and he knocks on the window

You, with your ultra smart brain, immediately knew it was him because it was either that or a murderer that climbed up to specifically your window to murder you

which was unlikely, but hey, so was being friends with a giant turtle

You open your window and are immediately greeted with a shiny (not-so-brand new) comic/poster/figurine of the thing you talked about nonstop for weeks. maybe months. actually now that you think about it it mightve been year—

"Hey."

"Wh-"

"No way. NO WAY." You take it out of his hands (gently) and look at it in awe, before looking up at him with a dazzled expression

(If you squinted you could see sparkles coming off of you)

"What- Where- Dude. Where'd you even find this?!" A wide grin on your face as you look at him.

"Oh y'know.. Patrol and fighting bad guys, awesome stuff. Uh, then, y'know.. I found some merch that I thought you'd like."

"Dude he's seriously blowing this." one of the guys (mikey) whisper. "Yeah, he's worse than Donnie." he says, earning a 'Hey!' from Donnie.

Leo glares at them for a second before turning his attention back to you.

You let out a giddy giggle, "ahh! dude!"

"Dude." You set it down gently and put both of your hands on his shoulders. "I. Love you. So much. You know that?"

He blushes a little, "Well, I mean, it's not really a big de-"

"Not a big deal?! DUDDEE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. Is this a marriage proposal?" You say, shaking him a little.

"Wh- um.. What?" Leo lets out a weak chuckle, he feels his face heating up. "Because I accept. Let's get married, I love you so much. Oh my god, you have no idea-"

Ohhh god.

Yeah, that does it.

Well, even more than it already has.

"Whahahaha... Okay, uh, You don't really mean that, do y-" Oh.

"..Oh, sorry, is that too far? I mean, I do it with my other friends, but I'm not sure- Leo?" Yeah, no this is going to kill him. Kinda pathetic, huh? That a kiss on the cheek could send him spiraling just like that.

"Ah.. hahahah! Okay cool, haha.. uh, bye! I'll ah.. see you tomorrow? yep. Yeah. Okay, bye!"

He runs off.

Aw crap.

Did you do something wrong? God, you hope not. Maybe you should tone it down next time.

"Smooth moves brother, really got them falling for you."

"Shut up."

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

Total writing time: idk like 15-20 mins?

Any fellow fic writers feel free to take inspo or even write a direct sequel to this, I just really like this idea and would absolutely love to read more abt it lol

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

Hello i have a idea, how about Yandere Andrew and Ashley x Older Sister Reader with plot being something like

Y/N never cared about Andrew and Ashley cus she find them annoying, she never tried to be good sister even a little and didn't pay attention to their strange behavior towards her, bc despite her careless they loved her and always clings to her and ruins her relationships with boys and girls. And after another ruined relationship, Y/N finally fed up and leaves them, they of course tried to use manipulations and even threats in hopes that Y/N would stay and be theirs but all this things doesn't worked on her. After a two weeks Andrew and Ashley manages to find Y/N....with new boyfriend which makes their blood boil, bc Y/N is theirs only

Facts - 1. Y/N hates mom and dad as much as Ashley, thats why she lived with Andrew and Ashley

2. Y/N is not any better than Andrew and Ashley. Y/N kills some dudes before just for fun

So what do you think?

Thank you anon I needed the motivation TwT

TW: Manslaughter and Murder

Yandere!Ashley and Andrew x Older Sister!Reader

You’ve been fucked over since birth

Teen parents, one who was spineless, the other who was a manipulative bitch- both who had no idea what they were doing or how to use a goddamn condom

Yeah, you were screwed

By age 4 you learned that you can only really count on yourself in this shit bag of a world

Unfortunately by then, your mother already popped out two other crotch demons to ignore

They thought you were such an independent child, why not have another? This one is also quiet and doesn’t complain- so again!

They stopped having kids after Ashley came around- and if you’re going to give your little sister credit for anything, it’s that she taught them to use protection next time

Or convince mom to get her tubes tied and avoid this whole thing again, truthfully you didn’t care how they went about it- so long as you didn’t have to deal with any more annoying little shits

Ashley and Andrew were always clinging to, which was a normal thing you heard little siblings do….but god they took it to the extreme

Making up excuses to leave class so they could go bother you in yours, following you around all day, Ashley would try to climb you and cling to your back so she would always be close to you

You hated it, you hated it so much

“Y/N?…”

You groaned, jostling in your bed to turn your back to the little shit. You just wanted to sleep, it was the one time you didn’t have to deal with either of them but here’s shit one now!

Andy reached a hand out and poked your back, or where he presumed it to be under the covers, “Y/N?” He persisted, “I know you’re awake.”

“How the fuck do you know that?..” you mumbles from under the covers.

Andy reached his hands out and tugged on the blanket to try and pull it off, “You never sleep on your side, your body naturally turns you on to your back. And you have a specific look you make when asleep.” Andy tried to replicate the look, an open mouth and shut eyes. His lip twitched a little for authenticity.

You sat up, staring daggers at him, “Do you watch me sleep? Little creep—“ you threw your pillow at his face, which had the opposite effect you hoped for. You wanted him to feel dejected, walk solemnly back to his bed while you struggled to ever sleep again. But no, your little brother just laughed and hugged the pillow tight.

The noise caused the small form under the covers of the bed across the room to rustle. Great, you both woke LeyLey. The lump under her covers shot up, pulling at the starry blanket so she could look at you two.

“Ooohhhh, are we sleeping in Y/N’s bed tonight!” She sounded excited, crawling off of her bed and rushing over to Andy’s side. She noticed the pillow and tried to take it, “Give!”

“No way!” Andy held the pillow close to his chest like a treasured gift, “It’s mine! Y/N gave it to me!”

Actually I threw it at you, you thought- but the two were too focused on their tussling to notice you watching unamused. God at this rate they’re going to wake up mom and dad and then you’ll somehow get in trouble—

“You’re their older sister!” Mom would say, “You should be mediating them!”

Technically you shouldn’t. You should be asleep. Or not even born. Self deprecating aside, you would much rather go to sleep as soon as possible, and it’s clear Andy and LeyLey won’t leave unless you let them sleep with you.

So, with a sigh, you pull the covers away, “Get in here you two- and stop fighting over the pillow!” You snatch it from Andy, who gives you the look of a sad puppy you just kicked, “You’re gonna wake mom and dad.”

LeyLey looked ecstatic, hoping into your bed and climbing over you- making sure to ‘accidentally’ knee you in the groin. You wince, you may not have anything down there- but it still hurt! Andy was next, climbing up and settling down on the other side of you. He hugged your arm, smiling softly. LeyLey wrapped her tiny arms around your waist, as best as she could to hold on to you. You sat there, uncomfortably waiting for them to let go, only for their soft snoring to tell you they fell asleep.

Clinging to you.

You groan, this is going to be a long night.

You had hoped that as your siblings got older they wouldn’t need their big sister as much, oh how wrong you were

It seemed like the opposite was true- the older they got the more they needed you. The more they clung to you.

They always had an excuse for needing you, this happened so much that any friends you made drifted away from you

Which only gave you more time to spend with your ‘precious little siblings’

Eugh

You had planned to leave. To buy a bus ticket and drive far far away from your childhood home and your fucked up family

But then the quarantine hit

Mom and dad ditched, Ashley being the last one to see mom on her way out

But even with the two extra mouths gone, the rations drained fast and the wardens made no effort the feed the three of you

The laundry detergent looked tastier everyday

Besides the lack of food situation- Ashley and Andrew loved the quarantine

They got to be with their big sister 24/7

And holllyyy shit they abused that

Most mornings you would wake up to one of them in your bed, clinging to you like a leech

You stopped kicking them off after the 10th time, it just became a routine

Whenever you went into a room, conveniently they also needed to be in there

About to shower? Ashley needs to do the laundry!

Want to take a nap on mom and dad’s bed, Andrew’s looking for a book, he’ll even read it to you as a bedtime story. How thoughtful

It got to a point where it was just second nature to find them within 3 feet of you

Though there was only so much one person could take

And after the newscaster announced the quarantine would be extended for three more weeks, well….

You stared at the sleeping forms of your siblings, wanting to be 100% sure they were asleep before you enacted your plan. You pulled the covers off of yourself, quietly getting up. You’ve lived in this trash fire of an apartment for 24 years of your miserable life, and thankfully memorized the creaky spots on the ground to avoid.

You couldn’t spend another three weeks in here. The three of you ran out of food a little over a month ago, and you weren’t going to let paramedics find your starved corpse being clung on to by your siblings. Hell no!

Your eyes darted between Ashley and Andrew’s beds as you walked, one misstep and they’d ask where you were going- then everything would go to shit. Your hand slowly raised itself to the doorknob, quietly twisting it. You flinched as it cracked open- looking to see if anyone woke up. Ashley was closest to the door, but she slept like a corpse. Andrew on the other hand was a light sleeper, so it was mostly him you were worried about waking up. You gave a silent sigh as he turned out to still be asleep.

You tiptoed through the door, flinching as you tried to quietly close it. Once the door was shut, your hand hovered over the knob as you waited.

Silence!

You were just in the homestretch now. Your wallet was already in your pants pocket, really that was all you needed to be honest. You had no items of sentimental value to bring, no. You wanted to forget this place. Burn it to the ground in your mind.

You made your way to the balcony, Ashley stupidly left the key in it. You opened the door and took in the fresh air….well- as fresh as it could be with the air pollution. You looked over the balcony, searching as you spotted your escape. A rickety looking water spout. It looked faulty, like it was about to snap off of the building, if not that- just cutting your hand on it was enough to contract tetanus. But honestly, you didn’t care.

You hoisted yourself on to the balcony’s ledge, hugging the wall and swinging your foot over to hook around the spout. Success! Alright…you just gotta..

Hyping yourself up, you ripped the bandaid off and just got it over with. You succeed, you just have to shimmy down to your escape. You fail, you die.

Win-Win!

You succeed though, holding on to the water spout like your life depended on it. Which it did. With care and ease, you worked your way down the spout, until your feet touched the concrete ground.

“Hey!” A deep voice made your blood run cold. Turning your head, you shielded your eyes from the bright flashlight. The man behind it wore a uniform similar to the warden’s, he must work with them, “What are you doing?”

You needed to think fast. You looked around and noticed a stray brick at your feet. You whipped your head back to the warden, his eyes fixed on you as his free hand hovered over his gun.

It all happened faster than you could process. Chucking the brick at the asshole, he fell to the ground with a thud. You didn’t look at the body, didn’t bother to make sure he was still alive. You ran. And ran.

You’ve never ran so fast in your life.

You were free. Free!

Free from starving!

Free from any of this shit!

Sure you probably killed a man, but it was imperative to your own survival

Not like anyone knew it was you anyway

Ashley and Andrew were going to starve, so any connection people could make to your disappearance and the warden’s death will be gone soon.

You bought a bus ticket and high tailed it out of there

Got a new job, and saved up enough for your own shitty apartment

Sibling free too!

Life was…starting to look okay, for once.

We don’t talk about the people you mugged to help save up for this place though

That’s between you and whatever fucked up good there is in this world

….and the people you mugged. Them too

But- point is, you’ve got a job, an apartment, a boyfriend that you met through work

Everything was pretty okay

You fumbled with your keys, eventually getting them to turn the stupidly janky lock. God you needed to get better locks installed, the keyhole being stripped from years of wear and tear. Apparently the landlord refuses to get them changed. But hey, at least your door opened

You wish your door hadn’t opened.

Before you could take in the gruesome sight in front of you, the wretched stench of blood and decay hit your nose. It wafted into your open mouth, slack jawed from shock and grazed your tastebuds. You quickly slapped your hand over your mouth and nose, dry heaving to not throw up.

There, in the middle of your apartment was the cooling corpse of your boyfriend. His body was mutilated, blood being lazily cleaned by his attackers. A tall, messy black haired man was on his hands and knees, wiping at the blood- while overtop of your partner’s corpse was a woman with her own black haired pulled back into a ponytail.

Green and pink eyes.

….your siblings.

“Oh!” Ashley looked up, grinning ear to ear, “Y/N! You’re home!”

Andrew perked up as well, sitting on his knees now as he shot up like a meerkat. Both scrambled to their feet, clinging to your arms as you stared at the body in shock.

“Sorry for such a sloppy job, we’re normally cleaner,” Andrew’s words were trying to reassure you, but it was just doing the opposite, “He just wouldn’t die.”

“You really know how to pick em sis.” Ashley’s nails dug into your arm, her statement feeling more like a jab than a compliment.

Though your body was there, your mind wasn’t. It was running a mile a minute trying to answer so many questions. How did they find you? How did they get in? What’s with the candles? What’s with the weird runes on the floor?

You feel like none of those will be answered, and as your little siblings nuzzle against you like cats- the harsh reality dawns on you.

You’ll never escape them.

[jozor-johai]

This is just a short note I will expand on elsewhere, but GRRM has this somewhat infamous quote about LOTR, about what to do with the orcs after the story ends. This is about rulership—what happens after the conquest?

Ruling is hard. This was maybe my answer to Tolkien, whom, as much as I admire him, I do quibble with. Lord of the Rings had a very medieval philosophy: that if the king was a good man, the land would prosper. We look at real history and it’s not that simple. Tolkien can say that Aragorn became king and reigned for a hundred years, and he was wise and good. But Tolkien doesn’t ask the question: What was Aragorn’s tax policy? Did he maintain a standing army? What did he do in times of flood and famine? And what about all these orcs? By the end of the war, Sauron is gone but all of the orcs aren’t gone – they’re in the mountains. Did Aragorn pursue a policy of systematic genocide and kill them? Even the little baby orcs, in their little orc cradles?

Part of what I love to death about ASOIAF is that it seems fundamentally more interested in these questions than the excitement of the conquest itself.

I see this quote brought up about the Others every once in a while, but I also think that we might be seeing one iteration of this idea with Dany in Meereen and the children of the slavers:

“The Sons of the Harpy are laughing in their pyramids,” Skahaz said, just this morning. “What good are hostages if you will not take their heads?” In his eyes, she was only a weak woman. Hazzea was enough. What good is peace if it must be purchased with the blood of little children? “These murders are not their doing,” Dany told the Green Grace, feebly. “I am no butcher queen.” (ADWD Dany IV)

There are obvious differences—for a start, humans have the potential to grow up to be anything, rather than the known entity of the inherent evil when it comes to orcs.

In an ASOIAF-relevant context, though, the question is similar: you won, do you eradicate your enemies? Their remaining families? What if it looks like a direct path to peace for those you were fighting for? “What good is peace if it must be purchased with the blood of little children?”

Considering that slavery is some of the clearest evil we’ve seen in the books thus far, I think this is one way GRRM is be bringing his thoughts on fantasy rulership to a more human context in ASOIAF.

The issue of letting the children live (or not) also makes for another very interesting parallel between Dany and Robert Baratheon, who is another key figure in ASOIAF’s exploration for how one rules after the battle has been won. Barristan makes the connection nearly explicitly for the reader, standing up for Ned’s name:

“Your Grace,” said Selmy, “Eddard Stark played a part in your father’s fall, but he bore you no ill will. When the eunuch Varys told us that you were with child, Robert wanted you killed, but Lord Stark spoke against it. Rather than countenance the murder of children, he told Robert to find himself another Hand.” (ADWD Dany II)

Robert was faced with the same choice and, over the course of his reign, has been given two different takes, one to start his reign and one at the end of it. Robert’s peace was bought with the blood of Rhaegar’s children, the young Aegon and Rhaenys, delivered—albeit unsolicited—by the Lannisters, to cement Robert’s legitimacy and their own stake in his rule. At the end of his reign, Robert is faced with the premise of a new Targaryen baby being born and Ned offers an contrary opinion much like Dany’s own (in spirit if not in allegiance):

“Robert, I ask you, what did we rise against Aerys Targaryen for, if not to put an end to the murder of children?”

There’s plenty more to be said, but I just want to point out this angle for interpreting the GRRM LOTR quote. For one, sometimes people take issue with how literally GRRM himself is enacting his criticisms (saying things like, 'we never see Robert's tax policy either')—but this is a great example of how GRRM can raise a criticism that fits for a different series and make it work within his own world by adjusting the circumstances.

Also, I think that for discussions that attempt to predict where the story will go from here based on comments like this from GRRM, it’s important to see where GRRM is already exploring these ideas. In ASOIAF, this sort of application doesn’t require this idea to be explored with some kind of similarly-undying evil like the orcs or like Sauron, GRRM is applying these ideas to much more human evils, like slavery, and much more human applications, like any kind of military victory.

[24kvlaksworld]

ONLY YOU

Prompt: How slashers act when they’re jealous/outbursts/reassurance.

-

MICHAEL MYERS

Believe it or not Michael is a very jealous boy. He just doesn’t believe he is, he is simply “doing what he usually does.”

When Michaels jealous it isn’t a pretty sight. He can become very hostile towards you or innocent bystanders.

Though he is very jealous it doesn’t happen very often, because he’s barely home so it’s unlikely.

When he’s mildly jealous he’d scare you, just to make sure you know who you belong to and simply kill whoever threatened your “relationship.”

If he’s very jealous, he’d actually harm you. Slight slices or soft choking. Taunting you by leaving bodies around the house.

Though don’t think just because he’s a little dangerous that he doesn’t need reassurance, it helps a little to watch you reject people.

Tell people you have a boyfriend, while mentioning his name.

Makes him almost fond of what you do, knowing that you’re his and you’re not ashamed to tell others that you are too.

If you did manage to make him feel slightly good he’d become even more protective, wanting you be only his and making it clear.

Sometimes you have to try and convince him to stay hidden when a neighbor or something knocks because of his jealousy.

There was one time he just popped out and stabbed the couple just because her husband looked at you a little too long.

And he wears the murders like a fucking badge of honor, sometimes seeing their heads propped up on a counter randomly.

Hearing you scream was another thrill.

But one thing that made Michael twitch, or snap. Some would even say go crazier is if someone would to hurt you, or even make you scream.

There was a time you had gotten into an altercation with someone walking down the street as someone let their dog shit on your and Michaels yard.

It was in the middle of the night too, and they had just left it there. The only reason you knew is because you caught them on camera.

So Michael being the lovely boyfriend he is he went to their house and slaughtered her teenage daughter, leaving her there to grieve.

You didn’t even find out until it was all over the news and the search for Haddonfield killer began again.

To be honest you didn’t even know what the two of you were, he just didn’t let you around anyone else, any men mainly. Or outside in general, courting you in his own animalistic way.

Sometimes if you made him incredibly angry he’d disappear, leaving you isolated after his killing spree.

After his jealous encounters he’d barely let you out the house, and you didn’t dare to disobey him even when he was gone because it was like he always had eyes on you.

Always lurking, it felt good knowing that you were protected, but not as much knowing he’d kill a person if they looked at you in the wrong way.

—

Jason Voorhees

Jason is super jealous, he could be considered murderous jealousy but typically he relies on your reassurance and loyalty.

There are times where he does kill when he feel like he needs too, but only when you seem to feel uncomfortable and harassed.

Jason is big and scary but when it comes down to you two he becomes soft, shy even.

After an outburst, he’d feel insecure a little ashamed he felt that way. He’d come to you, and sit there letting you comfort him.

Jason isn’t really vocal about how he feels so he relies on you to understand him by body language.

When you do he feels so excited, happy even. Nuzzling his head into you.

He doesn’t really get jealous just insecure, a bit of sad jealousy.

Though sometimes, very very rarely. When he’s angry and jealous he’d become overprotective. I mean he’d keep you locked up in the house.

Especially if you were almost hurt in the middle of the ruckus, he’d literally chain every exit or entrance of your cabin up and keep you locked in there until everything was over.

Sometimes you’d get into arguments because of how annoying his jealous habits could get.

Sometimes it’d either hurt his feelings and cause him to go into hiding or argue back, he’d thrash things around or yell. He couldn’t really speak so it’d just be verbal roaring.

He’d apologize after but his behavior is very repetitive and hard to deal with. Though he’s sweet enough to pick flowers and apologize harder later.

—

Bubba sawyer

Dangerously jealous, though there isn’t really time for him to act on it unless you tell him too. Of course he’d act if you were in danger or so he’d just stay by your sides when he could.

Though when he has time, he does. You’d be talking to a soon to be victim and he’d come revving his chainsaw and in seconds he slaughtered whoever was talking to you.

Though he’s still very insecure, especially when it came down to you helping out and flirting with the victims to lure them in.

He’d get upset angry and even try to argue to get you out of helping.

He’d whine to you about it, shout and scream. Though it’s easy to shut him up with some reassurance and a kiss.

Him being jealous is a common occurrence, nothing out of the ordinary.

He doesn’t even trust his family around you, always watching. Keeping an eye out, unless you were with his mother.

Sometimes if you end up being left with Hoyt or any male for God knows why he’d start arguments with his family.

Grabbing you and taking you upstairs and forcing you to stay in the room, and throwing tempter tantrums when you didn’t. 

He’d cry when you get mad at him, and throw things around when he was jealous. It was annoying watching him act like a child.

He’d ignore you , give you the silent treatment. It was practically like dealing with a child.

You reassuring him had become a daily task at that point.

—

Pretzel Jack

Attention jealousy, There had been one time where you were hanging out with another imaginary friend and he got sad and snapped.

When you got mad at him he had a long frown, he just wanted your attention, just wanted to play.

He hated when your attention was on other people, like a spouse or friend.

Which is why he was so happy when you got mad at them, and he finally could kill them!

Typically murders are sort of your fault because you should be able to control your anger and keep him under control.

If he’s jealous he’s quick to try and do some tricks to get your attention, and if it failed he’d wail around or have an outburst.

Or go to extreme efforts to get you to smile.

If all else fails, he kills your other friend. And *poof!* you’re his again.

Jack is very overprotective, so it’s more or so him just trying to protect you.

He doesn’t even know what jealousy is he just feels a throbbing in his hands and acts on it.

After doing whatever he did he’d play or lay near you. Making sure to keep everyone away whilst it was just the two of you.

And if you found out what he did and got mad he’d punish himself by keeping himself away from you unless you were in trouble.

Or he’d get really sad and hide away.

When he was jealous it was sort of funny, he’d go to the extreme just to see you crack a smirk or just look his way.

Sometimes purposely sulking in the corner to see if you’d check on him.

Of course you did and your silly Jack was back. Though that didn’t stop him from becoming jealous over and over again. Having to reassure him that he’s your favorite and always will be.

—

Gabriel may

Gabriel was the wrong guy to get jealous, he’d lock you away and keep you to himself.

He’d kill anyone who threatened your relationship, not just because of his obsessive personality but because he was insecure as a whole.

He believed that anyone could take you away, woman or men because he believed he wasn’t attractive enough to keep you.

He’d scare them away, flickering the lights or growling through a phone or radio.

And if that didn’t work, he’d just see them later tonight so they wouldn’t even share the same world as you anymore.

Gabriel didn’t believe he needed reassurance, though he did enjoy it he hid it well.

He believed that it was naturally for a man to become overprotective of his partner, he wouldn’t even consider himself overprotective.

He didn’t care if you rejected whoever wanted you, they shouldn’t have thought about you romantically in the first place.

Now they literally have to die.

The difference between him and any other guy is you can’t talk him out of it, when he’s made up his mind, it’s no longer a thought but a soon to be decision.

He’d come home and pretend nothing happened, that it was an ordinary day after he just shoved a knife into an innocent man’s jugular just for having a slight crush on you.

Though if you got sad about it, he’d become insecure and angry.

Wondering why’d you care about any guy that isn’t him, or anyone that isn’t him at all. It was scary watching Gabriel become angry because he couldn’t really control his powers.

The lights will start to flicker, phones going on and off and radio blasting static. The walls vibrating and cabinets clattering.

Of course you’d tell him there’s no one else but as I said reassurance doesn’t really work on him. So you either just let him blow a fuse until he’s all fired out. Or you just ignore him,

But that won’t get you anywhere but him thinking you love someone else.

—

Jacob Goodnight

Though you rejected anyone’s crush proposal to you Jacob still got angry.

He’d bash their brains out saying you’d never date filthy sluts or impure people like them.

There were quiet times too, where’d when he got jealous he’d just come whining to you, and ask you if you loved him despite all he’s done.

And when you’d tell him yes he’d go back to blundering young adults to death before coming to ask you the same question again.

Just to make sure you wanted to be with him despite what he is and what he can’t help but be.

Though it is very easy to reassure Jacob, he trust you with his whole heart.

Sometimes he gets jealous but he can’t help it, there’s always someone that’s going to be attracted to you

He just didn’t like the thoughts of sinners, especially sinners being attracted to you.

—

Norman bates (old)

Norman his mother were very jealous people, she couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting her poor boy and him having his first heartbreak.

So she did what any mother would do, kill them or convince Norman too.

She’d whisper cheeky little things in his ear, telling him if he didn’t eliminate them soon they’d become competition.

And eventually Norman just began the killing on his own.

Norman was extremely jealous, so he stuck by your side. Quick to speak up when someone was flirting with you.

Of course he stuttered and fumbled over his words but he knew he had to stand over you because you were his.

And he wasn’t going to let anyone take you away, not even his mother.

He’d hold your hand everywhere, even in the house, he was weirdly obsessive.

Randomly kissing your palm and each knuckle, telling you how much he loved you so randomly in the most awkward situations.

It was hard to use the bathroom alone without Norman knocking wondering how long it’d take before he got to see you again.

You could barely leave the house, when you two started dating he wanted you to move in immediately.

You barely had any say!

But he just wanted you there fast so he could watch your every move and ward off any other competitors.

If you went on a walk by yourself he’d bombarde you with questions, why didn’t you tell him, did you want some distance from him?

What did he do?

It must’ve been that man he was letting stay in the hotel, he has to get rid of him now. That’s what mother would’ve wanted and, it’s what he wants.

Why is he cleaning up blood?

Oh a rat got in that’s all. He’d pat your head giving you soft forehead kisses before waving you off.

When you two get home he’d make you a sandwich and ask you about your walk, about the scenery. If you had any small talk with a stranger.

Of course you knew it was because of his jealousy,

But Norman was so timid you thought it was cute, not that he could kill somebody!

Kissing your cheek with clenching your shoulders hard, confessing what he did. Because the pressure was too much to keep from his beloved.

You forgive him? Oh thank God, that means he can do it again right? You didn’t say not too exactly.

—

Charles Lee Ray.

Charles was the wrong person to make jealous, he’d either put you in your place or kill you both! So you had to be careful,

There was one time a guy came up to you in the grocery store and before you could say anything there was Charles with a pistol up to his back.

He made the guy get on his knees and beg for fucks sake.

After that he yelled at you for even letting the guy in your proximity.

Charles was the type to get sexual when he was angry, angry intimacy.

Either that or blowing the guys head off and going on the run from the police because of it again.

He always expected you to wait for him, whether he was gone for months or years.

And one day he expected you to take him back even when he was a fucking doll!

It was ridiculous, he was always getting himself into some shit and wanting to come back into your arms.

Sad to say the maniac did have his soft moments, where he’d come home after a long run and fall straight into your arms with a snore.

Happy to be back, and happy to see you waiting for him.

Not really like you had a choice though. It’s either you did or your head would meet the back of his famous pistol.

There was no escape from Charles, and his rash jealousy and anger.

It was sort of nice for him to want you and only you, kinda awkward watching him call other woman whores though.

In the beginning he was a cheater, believing that he couldn’t trust anyone, that was until you were fed up of his bullshit and tried to leave him.

Crying, telling him how much he meant to you but you were so tired.

And ever since then the fuck didn’t leave your side, at first it started as threats, stalking and eventually you getting a restraining order.

But that didn’t keep him away, not even prison.

The police had given up before you did so you were sort of stuck, and with him threatening to kill anyone that tried make a move on you.

And eventually, he kept calling you his and you just settled with it.

Not like there was anything you could do.

—

Pennywise

You weren’t dating him, more like stuck with him. A chain on your ankle strapped to Satan who’s asleep.

And when he wakes up, he eats.

You were fairly attractive, and after all he was sort of a kid killer so any time some teenager cat called you he was hungry.

He’d laugh at you, taunting, making you believe you could escape before trapping you right again.

Devouring whoever wanted you in front of your very eyes.

One time you tried to defeat him to kill him, you tried to say hurtful things like “you only kill kids you fucking creep.”

And it backfired.

He laughed and left, the next day you heard screaming. And hid until it was safe to come out. Seeing hundreds of adult corpses, men, woman.

And he sat on top, chomping on a leg like a king on a throne.

Laughing loud, his yellow eyes glowing fiercely in the dark.

Now it was different with men, or any adult who tried to hit on you so ever. He needed food, so he couldn’t kill all the adults and stop the production.

So he did what any intelligent psychopath would do, he killed their kids. Not only will whoever hit on you suffer, he gets fed too.

And if they didn’t have kids he’d just kill them, wasn’t a lot of fun for him but still.

He’d play games on you, pretending that they were going to save you until their head randomly fell of their body.

His laughing came quick his same little dance and taunting.

Though there was one odd time he went out of character, a time where he had been sleeping, or what they thought had been “defeated.

And someone, kept cat calling you, drunkard. Enough to come up to you and grasp your arms and started touching you.

You shocked yourself, because you knew the first name you screamed.

And it was unlike him to not play around with his food first, but he came. Broad daylight. And cut his neck clean off.

His eyes were a light blue and full of anger yet worry.

He grabbed you and carried you to the sewers, trying to force you to sleep through the rest of the years with him.

To keep you safe in a way.

But you had to explain to him that you couldn’t, remembering you were human and didn’t need yearly hibernation.

He was reluctant but at least made you stay down for two days, keeping you safe and fed until you needed to leave, for personal hygiene and job reasons.

Not like you needed to work anyway, he’d just kill anyone who tried to kick you out.

When he woke up he ate first, devouring everything because he didn’t trust himself being hungry and going to see you.

Of course he scared you as his little welcoming.

But sometimes he’d nuzzle into the crook of your stomach, he was technically an alien, he had his animal like tendencies.

He was weirdly possessive, he didn’t even understand his own jealousy. Watching you flirt with a random guy who wanted to help carry what he stated a “attractive.” Persons groceries.

Watching you smile, pick at your skin and cover your teeth as you giggled made him angry.

And he was going to make both of you pay for it.

Of course he killed the man first, he was really focused on you. He courted you, waited for you, protected you, and sometimes even fed you. And this what you do to him? Ungrateful human.

He’d come to your home welcoming himself, not announcing it or anything. Scaring you, taking the form of a human intruder.

Pretending to try and kill you before transforming back with a laugh in his face, before you could argue with him he widened his jaw and went to take a bite.

You screamed but he covered your mouth.

He didn’t let go, it wasn’t deep enough to puncture your skin but enough to bruise you.

And he stayed there, you slept with his teeth latched onto your skin.

He was fast asleep, almost subconsciously doing it.

Tightening inch by inch every time you tried to move his jaw.

—

Patrick Bateman

Patrick getting jealous was rare, he never felt that way unless he felt someone was superior than him.

Or someone caught your attention, which was hard to do.

When Patrick was jealous he’d work out more, try to become extra perfect so you’d never advert your eyes again.

Wearing more expensive and stylish clothes, or taking you shopping.

Dressing you so luxurious anyone would assume you were married.

So jealous that he proposed, making you a housewife so that you couldn’t escape. And every time you went out with those “whore.” Friends any cuck that wanted you would know you’re taken.

He wish he could just fucking label you, but god he wouldn’t want to ruin that god forsaken perfect skin.

He’d even solve his jealousy through intimacy.

Doing what he considered a God worthy performance, showing you that no one could make you happy as much as he does, pleasured, taken care of, loved.

Hell anything.

But there was a point where he had to, take things into his own…gloved, hands.

You had this male close friend, this handsome idiot that you knew since high school, through college, and now.

He was perfect, he had money, fit, nice skin. And it didn’t even look like he was trying, and to top it off he was intelligent.

Anytime you’d come back from hanging out with him you’d refer to him as a ‘cute little geek.’ And he was already having a bad day he just needed some release.

So when your friend bumped into Patrick on the street so dumbly looking for you. Can you believe this?

He was confessing his love for you, to Patrick!

The taxi was full of his confession and Patrick’s occasional “oh really?” Right before he beat the pore guy to death with his golf club.

It was sloppier than usual but he couldn’t have someone talking about his precious only ever in such a way.

When you found out about your friends death you were devastated, he comforted you but couldn’t hide the scowl on his face.

Why did you care so much? Why were you crying so hard about a man that wasn’t him?

He enjoyed you sleeping on him but still couldn’t believe how broken down you were after losing another guy.

You eventually got acquainted with Patrick’s “friends.” And you suppose word got around that you were his because men started to avoid you.

Maybe because Patrick always stood behind you with his threatening demeanor but still.

You eventually got happier but couldn’t help but notice how over protective Patrick got.

Patrick loved how soft you were emotionally and just didn’t want anyone else to have it.

He’d lay his head in your palm and sit there for hours. Before going back to his nonchalant monotonous ways.

[danikamariewrites]

Could you do a xaden x reader where the reader is Aetos's younger sister and xaden and her have secretly been dating shortly after she got to basgiath. And tairn chooses reader and then that's on dain finds out and xaden will do anything to protect her

Rule Breaker

Xaden x reader

Warnings: none

You’d never been one for following the rules. You always found that being uptight and strict like your father and brother was so boring. It was no way to live life.

When you got to Basgiath you were on a mission to give your brother the biggest headache ever. But you somehow got away with each rule you break. You have your Wing Leader to thank for that.

Ever since Conscription you’ve been shamelessly flirting with Xaden. What made it fun at first was that he was supposed to be off limits. As a Marked One your father looked down on him and your brother didn’t trust him.

At Threshing you bonded Tairn who you later found out is mated to Xaden’s dragon. The two of you started hanging out more since you had questions about what that bond meant for your dragons. Harmless flirting turned into real flirting and before the two of you knew it you had real feelings for each other.

You both decided to keep the relationship a secret. It’s bad enough people were after you for being an Aetos, Gods forbid they found out you’re with Xaden Riorson. Your head would be on a fucking spike. Xaden would never let that happen to you. Something you discovered during your relationship is that when Xaden loves he loves with his whole heart.

He’s very protective and loving of you. That was a new thing for you. Your father only ever paid attention to Dain since he’s a boy. It’s nice to be love and get positive attention.

You smiled to yourself, pulling the hood of your cloak down to blend in with the night. Shadows danced around your ankles in excitement as you got closer to you and Xaden’s meeting spot. You tried to meet every night either for a walk or in one of your bedrooms.

Coming into the alcove the darkness melted away revealing your boyfriend. Your smile widened into a grin as you jumped into his arms. Xaden spun you kissing the side of your face. When he put you down Xaden hugged you closer to his chest, revealing in your touch and warmth.

“I missed you today.” Xaden murmured. You squeeze him around his midsection and bury your face in his chest. Good gods he smelled amazing. Why does he smell so good? Where does he get his cologne? “I missed you too baby.” You looked up at him to see that smile only you see. Genuine and boyish and happy. You love seeing him like this. It makes you ridiculously happy.

Xaden’s smile immediately fell, his body tensing as he looked around. “What?” You turn and see who the victim of Xaden’s scowl is and your heart stops. “Dain!” You whisper shout at your older brother. His face was a rare shade of red with an angry scowl pulling at his lips.

“Get. Away. From her, now.” Dain growled. You held onto Xaden tighter as he moved you behind him. While you could hold your own Xaden didn’t want Dain to hurt you while trying to get to him. The boys looked like they were going to murder each other. And if anyone heard you would all be in trouble for being out of bed at this hour.

Without thinking you jumped between them with your hands out. “Just…stop. Take a breath and just chill out.” You said sternly without your voice shaking. Xaden seemed to listen but Dain just looked at you with disgust. You wish you could say that look broke your heart, but it didn’t even phase you. Dain’s approval never mattered to you anyway.

“What are you doing sneaking around with him?” He spit that last word out like it burned his tongue. That pissed you off. Your hand balled into a fist as you bared your teeth at Dain. “Why are you following me, brother?” “Keeping an eye on you. You’ve been nothing but trouble so I’m making sure you don’t cause anymore.” You roll your eyes at him.

“She doesn’t need a babysitter Aetos.” Xaden said cooly. “You stay out of this.” He hisses. “Just stop Dain. I don’t need you. Just because we share a last name doesn’t give you the right to monitor me twenty-four, seven. Stay away from me and I’ll stay away from you.”

“I won’t make any promises.” Xaden chimed in with a shit eating grin on his face. Dain steps away from you with that angry scowl still plastered on his face. “Dad won’t be happy.” “Colonel Aetos doesn’t need to know everything. Nor will he care, he never has.” Without another word Dain turned and headed back to the dorms.

You felt Xaden’s hands lightly grasp your hips, turning you to face him again. Xaden wrapped his arms around you as you let out a shaky breath. You had never stood up to your brother like that before and you’d be damned if you cried about it. “Let’s go for our walk love. You can sleep in my room tonight.” You nod pulling his face down to yours to leave a soft kiss on his cheek. You are beyond grateful for this beautiful boy.

[jyoongim]

~BLOOD & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life!fluff, smut, slow burn plot, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

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Chapter three chapter five

Chapter Four

“Oh darling look at you! And here I thought you wouldn’t give me grandchildren” your mother laughed as she hugged you.

Your mother had invited you and Alastor over since you had sent her a letter about some exciting news you wanted to share.

You didn’t know whether to take her comment as a compliment or insult.

”Why ain’t your husband with you? I know that man ain’t have you travel here all alone in your condition” she frowned displeased.

”Momma you know how busy Al is. He’s been trying to catch up on work so he can take time off for the baby” you pouted.

She sucked her teeth, before a smile dawned her face

”well that means we can go shopping! Have you decorated the nursery? Do you have a nursery? Oooh honey why don’t you come home when you have the baby? A newborn is a lot of work” she was ranting and you sighed, rubbing your heavy stomach.

”Momma im perfectly capable of taking care of my baby.  I’ve read all the books” your mother gave you a funny look

”books? Oh girl those books ain’t gonna help you. You need experience. Youre a first time mom, you have no instincts in raising a youngin ”

You pouted. You felt like a teenager being chastised.

You knew your mother meant well, but sometimes you had to stop her ‘good intentions’.

”Ill be fine. Alastor’s gonna be there and Im sure we can figure it out. Aint that what parenthood all about?”

She hummed “If you say, now lets head to town. I want my grandbaby to have the best!”

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You fanned yourself as you finally sat down. The summer heat was not kind to you as your mother had dragged you to every shop in town.

The two of you had finished up shopping and were now at a little restaurant. You smiled in thanks as the waiter sat a glass of cold water in front of you.

Your mother cooed as she looked over several items she had bought.

You think she was more excited than you and you were the pregnant one.

”Momma I think you overdid it. There’s no way the baby is gonna wear or use any of that” you mused, sipping the water.

She waved you off.

”so…how has Alastor handled the news?” She asked.

You blinked “he’s very excited. He says he don’t care about the gender, but he’s taken to thinking it’ll be a girl” you giggled.

”haha a girl? Oh no you’re definitely having a boy darling” she laughed.

You titled your head in confusion.

Your mother smirked “Your belly is big and low and you’re not even halfway through your term, that means you’re having a boy. ”

She continued “Most men want a boy on the first go. A scrappy boy is the jewel of every man’s pride”

You rubbed your stomach, smiling “Well it don’t matter im sure hell adore the baby no matter what”

She hummed and picked up the newspaper that was on the table.

The headline read ‘fifth body found in canal’

”Such a shame the authorities can’t find killer. Those poor souls. This is the fifth body that’s been found and practically in your backyard. You really need to careful dear” she said grimacing.

You weren’t too worried. All the victims were random, but they weren’t pregnant women. “I don’t think the killer is slaying harmless pregnant women momma”

She shrugged “Can never be too sure dear”

———————————————————————————

Alastor whistled as he cleaned the kitchen. Bright red water filled the sink as he wronged the sponge. You would have a fit if you saw the state of your kitchen and Alastor couldn’t have an upset wife.

You had went to visit your mother, thinking it was time to tell the woman that the two of you were expecting. You had wanted him to come along, but he thought it would be better if the two of you spent some time together.

So he took the time to go hunting. It had been a while since he had a good hunt and he had a taste for deer meat.

Once the kitchen was spotless, he discarded what he didn’t need into a bag. He headed down to the cellar with the rest of the trash.

He tied the bag and reached for the other one.

Hauling it back to the kitchen, he turned on the radio to listen to some tunes as he prepared to cook. You should have been coming home in a few hours and he was sure you would be hungry. It was rather hot today, so instead of slaving too much over the stove he opted for a simple stew.

He pulled the meat out of the bag and began to cut it.

He pulled a pot from the cabinet and filled it with  onions, carrots, and a little water were added into the pot as he cleaned the meat.

As the pot boiled, he plopped the meat in a pan to cook it down.

The kitchen filled with the smell of herbs and meat as he worked.

He added some seasoning to the meat and transferred the chopped meat to the pot.

He turned the heat low and let it simmer.

He nodded in satisfaction and took a look at himself. Disgusting

He was covered in blood. He sighed and went upstairs.

Light red swirled down the drain. Alastor rolled his neck, a soft pop was heard and he sighed in relief.

Once finished in the shower, he gathered the dirty clothes and headed out back in the yard.

He waved to the passing neighbors as thee fire crackled, a pleasant smile on his face.

Once the fire died down, he headed back inside to check on the stew.

He stirred it and turned it off.

He fixed a cold sweet tea and took a seat at the dining table.

His mind wandered to you. He wondered how you were fairing in this heat. He was sure you were ready to come home and relax. Your mother was a handful.

Your pregnancy was coming along nicely.

You had rounded out and now you sported a big belly. His cock twitched in his pants. He couldn’t believe how insatiable  he had become since you had become pregnant. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you.

You had transformed beautifully. You always seemed to be glowing, though you swore it was sweat. You had become incredibly sensitive, your mood swings putting you both through the ringer.

You had voiced your concern about your image as you had filled out nicely, gaining weight from the baby you now carried. You couldn’t fit any of your usual form fitting outfits, opting for loose dresses.

Alastor reassured you that you looked beautiful no matter what. He enjoyed a little meat being on your bones. 

You were softer and he loved every minute of it.

His eyes traveled to the pot, he wondered if you had ate. He really wanted to see how you would react to the meal he prepared. While you love his cooking, the baby was picking, which resulted in you being sick a lot.

The buzz from the hunt still rippled through him as his lips curled in a smile.

yeeesss how would his little wife enjoy the meal he prepared for her?

He made a mental note to take out the trash later but for now, he waited for you to return home as he opened a book about parenting. 

He should ask you what color you wanted the nursery….

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Your mouth watered as you came through the door “What did you cook Al it smells really good”

Your husband chuckled as he closed the book and walked over to you. You were trying to beeline it to the kitchen, but your husband wrapped his arms around you and pressed his lips to yours. He grinned as your stomach created a space between the two of you, running an affectionate hand over the bump “Well hello to you too my dear. How was your mother? I see the two of you went shopping” His eyes took in the amount of bags you brought back.

You huffed “Yea Ma would have bought out the entire store if I let her, i tell you I think she’s more happy about a grandbaby than when we got married”

Alastor coaxed you to the couch, smiling as you sighed as he massaged your aching back. He pressed soft kisses to your exposed shoulders “I didn’t know if you had ate already, so I made a stew. Let’s hope the baby like it. I read that warm foods were better than the ice cream you’ve been sneakng” he snickered as you pouted.

”Just relax a bit and Ill make you a bowl”

You smiled at him “I want crackers too!” You called after him.

Alastor returned with a steaming bowl of stew. It smells so good and your stomach growled in hunger. “I tried a different meat but I hope you like it my dear”

You thanked him and rolled your eyes as he picked up the spoon and held it to your mouth. You blew on it softly before chomping on the spoon.

Your tongue tingled as you savored the flavor. 

The meat was softer than you were use to, maybe pork or a different beef?

Whatever it was it was good!

”Mmmhmm this is so good. The texture of the meat is a bit off but its really good Al” you complimented.

He beamed at you, pearly whites glistening at you. “Im happy you like it and you didn’t throw it up im proud baby”

You quickly finished the meal and showed him everything your mother bought for the new arrival.

Alastor smiled in content as you happily showed him the baby wares; clothing, toys,and other gadgets. Seeing you so excited filled him with an unexplainable feeling. His hand caressed your belly as you ranted.

”Did you know that there’s a killer on the loose?” Your sudden question brought his attention back. Your face was filled with worry.

Alastor tensed, but relaxed “We had gotten a few reports down at the studio but no real leads. Why do you ask dear?”

You placed your hand over his that was on your bulging belly. “I-Im just concerned. I mean we do have a child on the way and i dont really feel safe walking the streets in this vulnerable condition. My mother suggested we move into the summer house.” You looked down, Alastor kissed your forehead “Im sure well be fine. Besides it seems the killer has a little mortals. No woman has been harmed. So dont fret my dear” he assured you. 

You sighed, he was right.  There was no need to worry.

“I would never let a soul hurt you” he whispered against your forehead.

You hummed and started giggling as he nipped at your ear “Al!!!”

You tried to wiggled away, but your husband softly pushed you back on the couch, being mindful of your belly.

”Now why dont I show you that I am more than capable hmm?” He grinned down at you.

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[fraugwinska]

I'm so in love with your writing!!!! If you are doing requests could you write about the first time Alastor and his darling spend the night together? Maybe they are up late listening to music and his darling suggests he stay the night. They are new to the whole relationship thing and Alastor is awkward but agrees. Could be a touch spicy but mostly just fluff. <3

I did a unique take on this, I hope you don't mind, my lovely Anon? I had the inspiration for it in a fleeting moment and just started to type, remembering your ask... And I kinda love what came out of it! :> As always, @macabr3-barbi3 was my rock and my anchor during the writing process - you have too much patience with me, love! <3

And a huge 'Thank you' to the lovely, ever-so-talented @minkdelovely for prereading this for me to find the perfect title for this story. You are both an inspiration and a delight, and I truly appreciate you, my darling!

Kissing was something Alastor had slowly gotten used to. Kissing you, that is.

You had made it easy for him, he'd give you that. Patience is a virtue rarely found in hell, but when the turning point in his friendship with you tipped the scale to the side of more amorous realms, the Radio Demon, normally superior and confident, had found himself to be exceedingly useless. The lines between companionship and partnership were drawn by his mind rather than physical barriers, and crossing them alone had been a tremendous effort for him. Alastor had never thought he'd feel anything for another sinner, hell, the bare concept of feeling was generally strange to him.

Love was something that had been intimately intertwined with the feeling he had for his mother. So pure, and so lost and unretrievable after her untimely death. To feel this similar yet completely different kind of love for you? Unimaginable, and yet, there you were. And with an unbelievable ease you slowly took root in his mind, weaving your way into his thoughts and settling in his heart without you putting in real conscious effort. Had your encounters been mostly accidental and brief at first, Alastor found himself longing to walk into you more and more before actively seeking your company. To you, he was never unwelcome, in complete contrast to the other residents of the hotel, who tended to avoid or flee from him whenever they could. Whether he would be annoyingly chatty in amusement, hurtful in cold anger or buzzing with excitement (and sometimes murderous glee) - you entertained his whims, listened intently or soothed him with a few chosen words, always finding the right ones.

You shift in his arms, your head leaning a little in to grant his hungry mouth better access to yours with a small, delicious sigh, ignoring or maybe even blissfully unaware that your lips must've caught on his teeth somewhere along the line and ripped open, thin, beautiful crimson lines slowly running down the sides of your mouth. He always said that red suited you best.

Your differences made you quite an odd sight in hell's scenery. What many could only admire with a good dose of fear was never scary to you and the fact you openly regarded the Radio Demon with polite respect and genuine endearment left quite an impression on the others - so much so that it had earned you the hushed title 'Daddy-Deer Whisperer', bestowed by the ever-so-childish Angel Dust. It was when he caught you scolding Angel for using that expression and spreading his usual slander about him with a rare display of open anger that he first felt the gentle tug in his chest that has since remained whenever you were near Alastor. At first, he had shrugged it off as another of his eccentricities, or perhaps hunger pangs he hadn't fulfilled for a while (A very likely thing given his... appetite). But it persisted whenever you looked at him with that little smile on your lips, and he knew. Knew that he had to have you, and that you would be his, in good time. He could never have imagined how easy that would turn out to be, how accommodating to his needs you were from the moment you acknowledged his advances, and were able to keep up with his admittedly glacial pace from then on. While no one dared to ridicule him to his face, the others were comfortable enough around you to tease you for having a partner that seemed so uninterested in physical attention. Well.

While they were not completely mistaken, they didn't know all there was to Alastor the demon with the eternal smile. The foreignness of what it meant to touch and love and the, he had to say it, pitiful lack in experience made Alastor hesitant for the first time in both of his lifes. How could he publicly display his affections when he could barely bring himself to show them in the confines of your company alone? Yet you never demanded anything physical from him, and he realized with a startle that you were perfectly content with just being with him. Where it had taken him weeks to consider kissing you for the first time, it took another couple or so to slowly allow his touches to drift from a brief grasp on an elbow or waist to a tighter grip, resting a hand at the small of your back, enjoying the sensation of your hip bone gently pressing into his palm, pulling you a little bit closer as your hands ran over his arms. In his embrace your arms found their natural place on his shoulders, the weight becoming familiar and calming to him. Until one day, it wasn't anymore. One day he noticed, truly recognized the feeling of you in his arms and found himself struggling not to pull you even closer. And without much thinking, his lips had been on yours, chaste almost and testing, savoring the contact and tasting you without the need to devour. And he found that with you, only you, just a taste was so much more satiating.

It was the first of many kisses shared, but to Alastor, this one held a special significance. You had been stunned, yes, but when he withdrew, overstimulated and unsure of his actions, he found neither judgment or reproach, only a silent smile and a hint of blush on your cheeks before you had returned the affection in your own, respectful way that he appreciated so much - soft pressure and warmth enveloping his hands - and a change of topic, easing him into a lighthearted conversation that had lasted hours, just to calm his nerves. Since then, Alastor has held on to these memories, his firsts with you. And there were countless - all kept near to your heart. Charlie, Angel and Niffty could pester you with any intrusive, interrogating question, you would only smile at them and repeat the same sentiment: What you see is the only thing you get to know.

"Alastor?"

"Hm?" Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his eyes focus on your beautiful face where he sees your brows furrowed with what he learned is concern.

"Is everything okay? You seemed to be somewhere else."

Ah, you were worried. For him. As you always were, so susceptible to his needs, as if it was natural to you. Another peculiarity and yet an incredibly welcome thing for a creature like him who found himself on the receiving end of unreciprocated concern very, very rarely.

"Just a little lost in thought is all, my dear."

"We can stop you know, it's almost midnight anyway." you say softly, your hands streaking soothingly over his arm as they slowly retreat from his shoulders.

He pauses, debating if the sensation of your fingertips touching the soft skin below his buzzed undercut, coupled with a very, very warm and inviting kiss had been enough. Had it ever been? Enough? It wasn't that you ever had any expectations of what would come after, seemingly content with anything he'd allow you to have - a softly spoken praise, an elegant compliment or even just peaceful silence before he'd take his leave. And knowing this Alastor suddenly is... displeased with the idea of this moment not lasting.

His claws wrap around your hands, a gentle pull guiding them back to their rightful place, back to the nape of his neck. He enjoys the rare sight of your surprised and red-flushed face before he let his lips trail your jawline, relishing in the way your skin breaks into goosebumps under his mere breath and fleeting touch before he speaks.

"I'm not so sure about that. Being able to stop, that is."

And he's true to his words. A searing fire is lit when your lips meet his again and his body tenses as he tries and fails to restrain the feeling it coaxes within him. Alastor wants to stay this time, wants to hold this miraculous thing that loves him so undeservingly close, wants to experience the feeling of skin on skin in your pristine bed sheets as he allows himself a rare night of sleep, with your sweet sighs as his lullaby and soft body as his covers. Another first with you, to add to the collection. And while you were always willing to indulge him, he feels, in the way you were pressing into him in cautious urgency, the whine that slips beyond the restriction of your bitten lips and the tremble of your fingers that you weaved into his hair, that this is - finally - what you, maybe for the first time, selfishly crave for, too.

Patience is a virtue, yes, but after all this saintly time he'd allow the both of you the sin of greed for a night.

[o-sachi]

Rose Colored Boy - Punk Rock Band AU

ଳ Punk Rock Band AU! Michael Kaiser Route - older brother's best friend ଳ tags; lead guitarist! kaiser, isagi's sis! reader, college au, fluff, afab reader, no y/n

Part One: Still Into You 5.7k words

There was something alluring about starting from a clean slate. Without any threads of the past holding you down, it makes it feel as if you could be anyone and that you could do anything. That’s exactly what this new chapter of your life has to offer. You were certain that college would be the ultimate turning point.

It’s not like you had any bad habits—unless being stuck in your safety bubble would be considered one. By all means, you were comfortable with how your life was. But whenever your brother showed you how fun his life at college was, your desire for the preconcerted way of living was slowly being chipped away. 

Perhaps the unconscious longing for a different—more thrilling life—was what determined you to change your ways. But then again, the past cannot be totally left behind. It’ll always find a way to worm itself in the present.

That worm in your life happened to be your brother’s little punk rock band.

Well… to be fair, they’re not as little as they used to be when they started in their high school years. You’ve heard the talk around the campus, but DEVOUR’s a pretty big deal now. And that’s exactly the problem. It would have been fine if it was just your brother—no way of avoiding him. But the rest of the band? You had history with them and it was highly likely that you’d have to encounter them A LOT.

Of course, there was also the thing about him.

Who would’ve known they would cause you more problems than one? When Yoichi dropped the bomb that you’d be staying with him at his studio apartment it already gave you a huge headache. But now that you were suffering the consequences of sleeping in the room next to their designated band practice location—this was more than a mere headache. It was a real fucking nightmare.

If Yoichi thought he could placate you by soundproofing the practice room, well, he��s dead wrong. You could still hear the music, though faintly. But the real issue was all the thumping. As a light sleeper, it was nothing short of torture for you. 

Although, it did come as a shock when the disturbance eventually died down. You were expecting them to go at it until the wee hours of the morning. But it was good to know that they still had some sense in them. Checking your phone on the nightstand, it was around 11 PM. Not too bad.

You close your eyes and let sleep overcome you. Lately, your dreams have been about college. Even your subconscious was brimming with excitement. Tonight was supposed to be one of those dream-filled-deep-sleep kind of nights. But not even an hour later, you were awoken in the worst way possible.

You were sure something made its way in your room because how else would you explain the thing that just slammed into you—knocking the fucking air outta your lungs? You didn’t even stir when the door open and closed. But as you looked to your side, you could make it out in the darkness—an unfamiliar figure lying next to you with an arm draped over you.

Of course, most people’s first instinct would be to scream. And boy, did you scream like a banshee. Unfortunately, your room wasn’t soundproofed so Yoichi, who’s room was next to yours, was alarmed. Your door swung open, letting the light from the common room filter into your darker one. Yoichi stood by the door, groggy and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What happened?” he asked, a bit too calmly for someone who just heard their sister scream bloody murder.

You wondered how he hasn’t noticed the hulking figure next to you until you realized that the sneaky bastard hid themself under the covers, blending in with the pillows. Now, how were you going to respond to his question? On one hand, you were fucking disoriented by the issue at hand. On another, it wouldn’t look good if you somehow had a person in your bed literally the first day you moved in.

You had your suspicions about who it might be, but even then, it was still a questionable position to be in.

“Uh… I think a cockroach landed on me or something,” you lied. Gulping down the guilt, you hoped that he’d go back to his room. Then, you felt a sharp poke to your side causing you to yelp.

Yoichi sighs, unamused. “Seriously. Do you want me to help you kill it or what?”

“No! No… um… I’ll be fine.” Poke. “Eurgh… I mean, sorry to wake you up.” Poke. Poke. Poke. You weren’t even sure why you were covering up for this annoying asshole. But whoever this was, they kept poking at your side, trying to elicit another reaction. Clearly, they were getting a kick out of messing with you. Jerk.

Your brother nods, displeased at waking up for nothing. “Weirdo. Alright, I’ll spray some insect killer in here tomorrow or something.”

With that, Yoichi was finally gone and so was your fear of getting caught. But there was still a pressing issue. Hearing the door click shut, you immediately stood up and stomped your way to the light switch. It took you a while to adjust to the sudden brightness. Things were blurry for a moment, but you were certain about what was right in front of you.

Oh… you were so damn sure who it was.

The tips of his hair were now colored and he had a massive tattoo that ran from his neck and down his arm. Sure, he was more muscular than the last time you saw him. But despite all that, you were sure. There was no mistaking that it was him.

Him. The thread of the past that threatened to hold you back. You couldn’t put a finger exactly on your relationship. Perhaps you were close before, but did those sentiments survive the test of time?

It was none other than (your sworn love of your life at the age of 12), Michael fucking Kaiser.

“So I’m a cockroach now huh?” At least the cocky smile of his hasn’t changed a bit. You’d know because you’ve seen it a million times before. It was the same kind of smile he’d have while teasing you all those years ago.

You crossed your arms, glaring at him for the stunt he pulled earlier. “You’re worse than a cockroach; that’s for sure.”

“You’re saying you’d rather sleep beside a roach than me?”

Yes, you answer in your head. But your honest answer will only serve to inflate his already gigantic ego. “Enough of that—what are you even doing here?”

He laughs a bit. Kaiser found this strange reunion quite fun. “I crash here sometimes after practice and I may have forgotten that Yoichi’s little sister was moving in today.”

The intruder seemed way too relaxed on the bed as he propped himself up on his elbow. The cocky smile morphed into a lazy grin as he continued to look at you.

Somehow your annoyance melted away. You were reminded of all the times he’d stay at your house for hours on end. As a kid, you thought nothing of it. In fact, you were jealous of how permissive his parents were. You’d have to go through a whole spiel just to get your parents to agree for you to join your friends at the park—while Kaiser was allowed to stay and sleep all the time at your house.

But growing up, realizations were made and maybe it wasn’t something to be jealous of.

You took a few steps over to the bed, still with your arms crossed. As serious as you made yourself out to be, he only found it endearing.

“Don’t you have a place to stay at? Like a dorm on campus?”

The concern in your voice puzzled you a bit. Even though he was a pain in the ass, you cared for him regardless. The way his smile disappeared heightened your worries.

“I could go back to my place with my parents…” he muses while lying flat on his back. “But you know… practice drains me so it’s better if I can pass out in the room nearby.”

He could play it cool all he wants, but the way his voice and expression changed couldn’t fool you. There was no need to pry in his personal business. If he wanted to tell you the truth—he would. “You can take the couch… I’m sure Yoichi won’t mind.”

A smile returns to his features, albeit a smaller (less cocky) one. “The question is—would YOU mind?”

Right. Well, you may have had a crush on him for all these years since you were in middle school and high school. And you may have wished that he would stop seeing you as his best friend’s little sister. Aaaand you may have promised yourself that you would end this little crush of yours in college—even if you happen to stumble upon him.

Which you did and it just so happens that you encountered him in your bed of all places.

When he and Yoichi graduated from high school and went on to go to university, you haven’t seen Kaiser since. You haven’t heard from him except from the little snippets Yoichi would tell you about his band.

So you were sure that your feelings had faded along with his memory. But then why is your heart still beating so fast? Why couldn’t you take your eyes off of him?

You chalked it up to the earlier adrenaline of having some unknown presence break into your room. But now that the presence is known… Why do you still feel so nervous?

The simple and glaringly obvious answer was: you still liked him. A lot, to be exact. But you wouldn’t let yourself admit that. Despite pining after him all these years, you were aware of how much it hurt. It pained you to know that he’ll always see you as his best friend’s little sibling. And now seeing him with his new appearance—tatted and in a punk rock band…  you were certain that he had no slim pickings when it came to women.

Once more, you felt the familiar pang of disappointment in your chest. But above all that—you couldn’t deny that he mattered to you.

“No… I don’t really mind. The couch is yours for all I care.”

Kaiser sits up straight, still keeping his gaze fixed on you. “Sweet. You’re the best.”

The best huh? It was like a knot had formed in your stomach at his words. Dropping your arms to your sides, you gave him a tristful look in exchange. So many thoughts ran rampant in your head that it barely registered to you that he had already dragged himself out of your bed and was now standing in front of you.

He still towered over you like before. Did he always go to band practice shirtless or was God messing with you right now by shoving this awful coincidence at your face (quite literally). A cold sweat ran down your spine as his scent permeated your nose. His presence alone was intoxicating.

Kaiser placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair a bit. “Good night then. I’ll see you in the morning.”

With one last smile, he was gone the same way he went in. He was even kind enough to switch the lights off for you. 

Like a drain, the thoughts that had swirled in your mind slowly vanished. Out of sight, out of mind—you figured. You slowly got back into bed, pulling the covers just below your chin. Your fingers bunched the fabric tightly enough that your knuckles went white.

You could finally sleep… but maybe in a few more minutes because now you have to deal with your covers smelling like him.

— — — — —

“I told you she was moving in yesterday. Is your head full of air or what?”

“I just fucking forgot. Get off my ass will you?”

“For fuck’s sa—Hey, morning.”

You weren’t sure what they were mumbling about. You weren’t the most coherent after waking up. Though, this did feel like a familiar scene. You, waking up later than usual—still yawning with eyes half-lidded—while your brother and his best friend were already at the table eating breakfast. And most often than not, they’re going to be arguing about something stupid.

“Morning, Yoichi… Morning, Michael.”

“Heh, you must’ve slept well. You still got marks all over your face from the sheets,” he teased. 

Kaiser was only met by a scoff. “Shut up.”

You made a beeline for the fridge, grabbing a carton of milk then making a bowl of cereal. Sitting at the table, you began to eat quietly from across them. 

“So,” Yoichi starts. “I have something important to talk with you about

Your brow quirked, piqued by your brother’s sudden shift to seriousness. “What?”

He sighs, seemingly frustrated about the impending discussion. “I’ll be straight to the point. Can this fool stay with us? Like on the couch?”

Your chewing slowed, eventually coming to a complete halt. “You mean like… indefinitely? I thought he had a place to stay though?”

Yoichi glared at the man next to him, confirming your suspicions that perhaps the things he said last night weren’t factual at all. Was he occasionally crashing here or did he actually live here? Kaiser simply held his hands up in defense, an uneasy smile to boot.

“I don’t know what this idiot told you but he’s been living with me since we got here,” Yoichi explains. You drop your spoon in your bowl causing a bit of milk to splash out. This was the first that you heard of this arrangement.

“But… does Mom know about this? There wasn’t even any sign of anyone else living here with you?”

“Nah, she doesn’t know,” Kaiser coolly replies. “Plus, all my stuff’s in a duffle bag and some of it’s in the band room. It’d be a hassle to put away all my stuff when your parents visit.”

You should have been worried about a plethora of other things, but for some reason, all you could think about was why he had to live with your brother. Just what is going on in his life?

You cleared your throat. “Are you freeloading off of my brother?”

“Ouch. Do you really think I’d do such a thing? Don’t worry. I have a part-time job so I can pay half of the rent.”

Half? For a studio apartment? Whatever part-time job he has—it definitely pays well. You could see why Yoichi would agree to it and halving the expenses was cheaper than getting a dorm. Seeing as how he’s diligent about their living situation and Yoichi isn’t refuting his claims… you feel oddly calm about it. Besides, you were sure that your parents would be fine. It’s not that different from when he’d sleep over at your house when you three were younger… right?

You scold yourself internally for being so chill about this. You were too accepting of his presence. Bad habits die hard it seems. 

But the discussion wrapped up quickly and not long after that—the two men were already deep into their discussion of the band. Yoichi and Kaiser are like the heart and mind of the band after all. This was originally their dream and somehow they roped in other guys to be a part of it. You’d never admit it to them, but you were proud of how far they’ve come.

Once you finished your breakfast, you stood to wash the dishes while they were already heading for the door.

“Hey. Come to the freshman party later. We’ll be playing and you need to watch or else I’m telling Mom.”

Kaiser chimes in. “There’s going to be a surprise too~”

Not a hint of trustworthiness could be seen in that mischievous smile of his. You had your hunch on what that surprise might be.

“I swear if you shout me out I will ignore you for the rest of the year.”

“Heh. No promises! But you should still come, alright? I’ll be waiting for you~” “I’m fucking serious. Don’t even think abo—”

And just like that, your brother and his menace of a best friend were out the door. Seems like you have something to keep you busy tonight then. Besides… you can’t disappoint someone waiting for you, right?

An act of courtesy was all it was.

— — — — —

Even without your brother’s earlier threat, you would have still come to this party. As a matter of fact, you’ve been mentally preparing for this night for about a week now. You were dead set on mingling with your fellow freshmen, getting loose, and having the time of your life. But you weren’t expecting to be overwhelmed to such a degree. The flashing lights, the huge crowd of dancing people, and the blaring music—you’ve never seen anything like it before.

How you would even get to talk to anyone here was beyond you. But perhaps you were looking at it the wrong way. People talked with their bodies here, but you couldn’t imagine pushing yourself between them—dancing and letting that speak for yourself. 

You were getting cold feet. The urge to just turn around and leave was strong. However—as much as you loathed it—his words kept you anchored in your spot.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

Sure, he was. They have a whole crowd out here; there was no way he’d be able to see you among all these people. The better part of yourself knew he was buttering you up, helping Yoichi into coaxing you to come here. But you let yourself be swayed.

Desperately, you tried to weave yourself through the throng of people blocking the path towards the stage. For a freshman party, the size of the place was impressive. Though that didn’t help when it took forever to get a good spot near the stage. If you weren’t going to socialize—might as well watch your brother and his friends perform.

You’ve mostly seen their band through videos. Whenever Yoichi sent one to your parents, they’d watch it on the living room TV. But now that you were about to see them live, the atmosphere was totally different. Maybe watching it on the TV wasn’t as excessive as you once thought.

As the DJ’s music died down, people—including you—were forced to direct the attention to the stage where they had already set up shop.

“Mic check… mic check… 1, 2, 3…”

An uncharacteristic smirk crosses your face. Your brother didn’t seem so lame when he was up front and leading the band. They were quite cool, holding their instruments and wearing black outfits with hints of red. Of course, you recognized most of them from high school, but there was a new guy sitting at the drum set.

Their last drummer was a bit of a lunatic… maybe this guy won’t be so bad.

“Alright. Sorry, Mr. DJ, but you gotta pack up ‘cuz DEVOUR is in the house.”

The crowd goes wild. If they’re this pumped—what more if they start playing? Guess Yoichi wasn’t lying when he said they were a big deal now. Even the university new bloods were howling for them.

“My name’s Isagi, your vocalist for tonight.”

“It’s Kaiser. Better keep your eyes on me, a’ight?”

“Rin.”

“Sei…I mean—Nagi… Nagi Seishirou.”

“And last but not the least! I’m Shidou Fuckin’ Ryusei. Make some noise, fuckers!”

By all means, that new drummer surely is the flashiest of the bunch. With an introduction and dramatic bow like that—there’d be no shortage of eyes staring at him all night. But, of course, your eyes immediately went to a certain tattooed man. Sure enough—Kaiser wore the (sexiest) black tank top. Of course, he did. And no, you were adamant that you were merely admiring his tattoo in its full glory. Definitely not his bulging biceps. You wouldn’t dare.

They start their set with one of their louder and faster songs. Yoichi has gotten better at singing and it never fails to amaze you how his demeanor changes once he gets ahold of a microphone. Rin and Nagi are… well, they’re still laid-back as ever. And the drummer’s really going all out. They had the crowd jumping, going wild along with the music. It was insane.

Although, one of them seemed out of it. It looked as if Kaiser was finding something amongst the crowd. His eyes darted from side-to-side in the large function hall, obviously distracted. But best believe he never missed a beat; Kaiser was as  flawless as ever. He prided himself in being an excellent performer through and through.

His hunt only ended when his eyes zeroed in on you. His expression softened—you swore it did. The corners of your mouth tugged, wanting to match the smile that was plastered on his face. You were no lip reader, but you were certain that he mouthed those words to you.

“Watch me closely, okay?”

You wondered if the words he uttered in their introduction were meant for everyone or if it was addressed to someone specifically…

Whatever—you found yourself getting lost in the rhythm of their music. Sure, you were staring at Kaiser for half of their set, but the entire band caught your attention down the line. They were really really really good. There was no stopping the amused smile from creeping on your face.

Alas, they slowed after some time, signaling that their set had ended.

“How are we doing so far?”

Your brother was met with the enthusiastic roar of the crowd. Huh… well, ain’t that neat? He flashes a grin. “How about we end the night with an encore? A cover? What do y’all say?”

Again, another wave of agreement.

Safe to say—your expectations were curbed when Kaiser gave his guitar to Yoichi and took his spot at the mic. He taps the mic once, then twice. “Yoichi, take care of my baby for me. Will you? I just have a crowd to wow right now.”

Cocky. But you had to admit—strong stage presence.

The tune started and your expression quickly changed. Seriously? Of all songs to cover… they really had to go with a song that resonated WAY TOO MUCH with you. But then again, seeing that stupid shit-eating smirk on his face tells you this was not much of a coincidence.

“Can’t count the years on one hand that we’ve been together…”

Hell, you promised that you’d start this new chapter of your life like a clean slate—nothing should be holding you back. Especially not some dumb-unreciprocated-childhood crush. But could you still call it a childhood crush at this point?

“I should be over all the butterflies, but I’m into you…”

Perhaps it was your mind playing tricks or you were actually going crazy and suffering hallucinations—but you promise that his eyes were fixed on you as he sang the lyrics. 

Well, shit.

“Yeah, after all this time… I’m still into you.”

Seems like you’re not over him at all.

At the last note of the song, the crowd cheers for them—energized even after dancing for an hour now. Kaiser flashed his million dollar smile, leaning into the microphone.

“Thank you! You’ve been an awesome crowd. Again, we’re DEVOUR.”

The crowd swoons and they bow, concluding their performance for tonight. As the other guys began walking off the stage, Kaiser quickly added one last thing.

Your heart dropped when he pointed a finger at you. “And shoutout to our first and biggest fan, Yoichi’s little sister!”

While all eyes turned to look at you, your own gaze was fixed on the infuriating man on the stage. Something about those eyes were telling you that you’ll be alright.

— — — — —

It felt strange on your walk back home. After their set, you would have never thought that you’d actually find yourself with a group of people, talking and hyping each other up for the coming semester.

Well, they did approach you because Kaiser pointed you out. But a win is a win in your book. A small part of you was thankful for him. He gave you that little nudge—the boost that you needed to jumpstart from that clean slate of yours.

As you stood at the door to the studio apartment, you could hear muffled voices coming from inside. Pushing the door, you were met with the entire band. So it seems that this isn’t just their designated practice location… but also their hang out space.

How troublesome.

Yoichi and Rin were too busy arguing about something that they failed to greet you. Kaiser was nowhere to be seen, so it was only Nagi and the drummer aware of your presence.

“Yo,” Nagi greets you.

“Hey, Sei. Nice to see you again,” you wave back. Nagi only nods. Actually, you were expecting him to drop like a fly after the taxing performance they just did. But it was a pleasant surprise to see him wide awake.

You felt the drummer’s eyes on you as you made your way inside. What was his name again? Shidou was it? 

“Uh… hey, Shidou, right?”

He grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Yeah, that would be me. You Isagi’s girl?”

That seemed to catch the attention of the two men arguing. “Dude, what the fuck.”

“Did you not hear Kaiser introduce her earlier as his sister? She’s literally an Isagi too, dumbass.”

At least Rin and Yoichi can agree on some things. 

Shidou shrugs. “Must’ve missed it ‘cuz I got off the stage first.” He sat up straighter, a determined look on his face. “In that case, can I shoot my sho—”

“Hey. Shoot your shot somewhere else, you pink haired freak.”

A familiar voice made itself known as an arm draped over your shoulders. Kaiser pulled you into his side, acting all protective. “She just got here and you’re already scaring her off.”

“Pink haired freak? We got our tips dyed together, man.”

A short “pffft” comes from Nagi.

“Besides, what gives?” Shidou asks, an eyebrow raised. “You got an arm over her. How’s that any different?”

Oh how you wished your brother would come to your rescue, but he was just sitting there—bickering with Rin again. Jesus. How do they function so well on stage, but they’re like this behind the scenes?

Kaiser scoffs. “I’ve known her even before she could walk, alright?” He sets down the can of beer he was holding on his other hand. “Anyway, I’m heading out to get some more.”

But you swore the beer can was still full with the sound it made when he set it on the table. The reason behind his lie became apparent as soon as he dragged you out of the apartment with him. 

“I can’t go out alone, can I?”

Soon as you two were out the door and out of sight of the others, he removed his arm from you. It seared where his warmth lingered. You wanted to ask why he retracted, but that was too much. Kaiser shoved his hands into his pockets and walked a few steps ahead of you.

“How was the party? Had fun?”

“It was okay,” you downplayed. “Met a couple of new people.” 

He looked back at you to see what kind of expression you were making. It was rather flat—not what he was expecting. But your outward appearance betrayed the brimming excitement that threatened to burst out your chest.

He sighed before turning to look back at the path in front of him. “Glad you did. Aren’t you forgetting something though?”

“What?”

“I dunno—maybe a ‘thank you’ for helping you out.”

“Usually people don’t ask for anything in return when they do good deeds,” you retort.

“Then what’s saying ‘thank you’ for?”

“It’s for genuine people who don’t smile cocky at you while putting you on the spot.”

— — — — —

Thankfully, the convenience store wasn’t too far away. He pulled the heavy glass door for you—the hinges of which put the doors of a bank to shame with how difficult it is to open. It sure made potential robberies difficult. The cold air of the store hit you in the face causing you to squint.

“Good evening,” says the cashier. He was probably a student at his part-time job. You could tell—not because he was young—but because he looked like he’d rather be anywhere else on the planet than behind the grimey register of the store. 

He didn’t even spare you a glance until Kaiser entered the store himself. His eyebrows raised despite his deadpan expression.

“Yo, Kaiser.”

“Hey, Raichi. Working late hours again?” he asked while making his way to the fridge.

Raichi clicks his tongue. “What’s it look like?”

The dryness in his response earned a short chuckle from Kaiser. Raichi grumbles. “Heard you guys had a set today at the freshman party.”

Kaiser surveyed the different brands of beer that stared back at him through the glass of the fridge. “Yeah. Sucks you couldn’t be there.” He opens the fridge, finally having made a decision. Although he pulls out a six-pack of the same brand he was drinking earlier.

He stops and turns to look at Raichi. “This is Yoichi’s little sister, by the way,” he says while pointing to you. Suddenly, you were obliged to wave awkwardly at the other man. The lazy look remained on his face as he nodded at you.

“Knew she looked familiar.”

You were growing concerned with how more and more people were starting to know you only as “Yoichi’s little sister” —that and how Raichi basically implied you looked like your brother.

Kaiser closed the fridge, directing your gaze back to him.

“Why are you getting a single six-pack?”

A look of disbelief crosses his face, paired with an uneasy smirk. “Oh are you a drinker now too? Want a whole pack to yourself or something?”

“No, dumbass. You brought me all the way here so I thought you needed help bringing back stuff.”

He laughed louder than he was supposed to. “Can’t I bring you along as company? Besides, I’d never let you carry shit.”

You only let your gaze follow him as he carried the pack of beer to the register. As the cans made contact with the counter, Raichi had already placed a pack of smokes along with it. Kaiser stiffened, silently telling Raichi with his murderous eyes to put the fucking thing away.

But it was too late.

“Woah. You smoke?”

Raichi makes a look of realization before slowly sliding the box off of the counter. It wasn’t his fault that he had learned Kaiser’s routine like a waiter at a diner learning their patrons’ usual orders.

Kaiser shook his head while pulling out some bills from his wallet. “Psh, nah. It’s just common that when people buy booze—they also buy smokes. Force of habit huh, Rai?” 

Kaiser smiled while handing him the money, as if telling him to agree. Raichi sighed, dropping his shoulders. He doesn’t get paid enough for this shit. “Right. My bad, dude.”

It was rather… suspicious. But you thought nothing of it as Raichi shook his head incredulously, scanning the barcode plastered on the plastic wrapping of the six-pack. The cash register slides out with a bit of a hiccup. He grabs a couple of coins and hands the change to Kaiser.

“Thanks, man. Take care. Also, liven up.”

Raichi holds up his middle finger as the two of you make your way out of the store. “Yeah, take care and fuck you too.”

— — — — —

This time he walked beside you. Although, you preferred it when he walked in front of you. Staring at his back was better than feeling his presence way too close like this.

He was unusually quiet. Kaiser wasn’t bugging you or enticing you with a random story—He was just right beside you, walking silently. It only made you more nervous.

But when he spoke, you felt that perhaps his silence was better.

“What do you want to accomplish in your time here?”

That was… deep. Certainly, you’ve never spoken to each other like this before. But it felt as if he finally saw you as an equal—that you were “adult” enough that he could ask such questions to you.

He glances at you, noting your long pause. “I don’t mean boring shit like graduating. None of that. What’s something that you REALLY want to do this time around?”

“I guess…. I want to have fun.”

“No shit. Everyone wants fun. But how do you want to do it?”

He was putting you on the spot again. “I-I don’t know… I just want to do things I normally wouldn’t do without having crippling anxiety. Y’know? Like—like escaping my comfort zone or something.”

It was a shitty answer, you knew. But he nodded his head in acceptance. He halted, resulting in you doing the same. He was looking at you with that smile he had when you found him in your bed yesterday.

“Want me to help you have fun?”

“What do you get out of it?” 

“I get to have fun too. Duh.”

If anyone knew how to have fun—you would guess that it was him. His logic didn’t make perfect sense to you, but then again, Michael Kaiser never made sense to you either. It was that mystery that surrounded him that captivated you.

Pursing your lips, you eventually relented despite not knowing what was in store for you. Kaiser’s smile grew wider. “Great. I’ll look forward to making the next 4 years of your life the best you ever had.”

You were glad he started walking in front of you again… otherwise he’d see how hard you were trying to keep a straight face. This man—he was going to be the death of you.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[madwomansapologist]

one look and you knew | shan yu x fem!reader

for shan yu, you are his destiny. for you, he is the man that kidnapped you. love at first sight is a tale as old as time. he just didn't expect you wouldn't believe in it.

cw: love at first sight. meet cute. public nudity. accidental voyeurism. murder couple in the making. yandere. kidnapping. shan "i'll make you my empress" yu x fem!reader "what's your name?". in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020).

an: rip moon you would've loved hearing nu metal while doing the dishes. also my favorite dinamic is war criminal x someone that would have the time of their live being a nun.

The wind howled against his ears. Trees spoke in their ancient language. Silently, the world continue to move. Harmonic in its apparent chaos, carefully built even in its broken pieces, the world continued to be.

It was quiet there. Not maddening as the silence of soldiers well aware of their wrongdoings. Not numb as the moment right before a battle. Not debilitating as his sleepless, lonely midnights.

It was quiet there in the mountains, but not still. The world wasn't holding its breath, muscles clenching in tension or fear. It was what it has always been: uncaring, an indiferent witness to mankind.

Man can die, man can kill. The wind will keep on howling either way.

Marching forward in the monster's belly, he thought. A battle against time. An unstoppable war against the inevitable end.

Stupidly feverish, Shan Yu then admitted to himself. He ignored as his body plead for rest, instead riding his horse away from comfort. Shan Yu is the one to blame for his boiling mind and those irrational, melancolic thoughts.

Following an old path hidden by trees, Shan Yu travelled deeper into the mountains. The cut on his forearm throbbed. It would need new bandages, he could feel the blood drying against his sore skin.

Still, Shan Yu chose the ruthlessness of the mountain and whispers of a tired mind rather than the bought hospitality of an warm inn. More so, he chose silence over chaos.

He needed to think. To plan.

His armies invaded China. Battle after battle, they were always victorious. Now they understand this place. His generals trained soldiers with new formations that fit this land better. But real victory isn't as near as Shan Yu would want to.

His army is at disadvantage. They are in the enemy's territory. They are the ones moving forward instead of defending what they already own. They are the ones making arrangements with villages because a war this long means more food, more water, more time.

Shan Yu left his army behind, allowing them to celebrate. It was a good deal with the village's leader, whom only desire was to keep his people safe. He need his man confident, excited with the prospects of war. Let the alcohol soothe their minds, they earned it.

Alone, facing the place he must conquer, Shan Yu could deal with the stratagems. Challenged, he must find a way to humiliate the Emperor. To make even his own people turn their backs on him.

A sneeze made the strategist give place to the warrior.

The horse stopped with the pressure of his feet. Still as stone, Shan Yu searched for the source of it. He wasn't being followed. That he knows. This can't be a trap. At least not a good one.

He jumped to the ground, hand already searching for his jagged jian. He stopped at the handle, not wanting the steel to reflect light and warn his enemy. It was time to hunt.

Following his instincts, he wandered between the trees. His feet were light on the ground. This threat won't be able to gasp before he attacks.

He found a river bank surrounded by stones. No signs of an ambush. He couldn't smell anything strange in the air, only the... No. Shan Yu stopped moving. He felt something sweet. A strong perfume in the air.

Shan Yu glared at the river, now unsure of what he was looking for. Maybe it wasn't a trap. After all, that's not an important village. No soldiers or officers live here. Maybe this old hidden path isn't as old or as hidden as he thought. Maybe he's hunting something that simply isn't aware of him.

Then he noticed. Clothes folded in the river bank, a towel spread on a stonr, a basket half-filled with shells and stones.

Deep into the river, your fingers brushed against a shell. You grabbed it, and checked if anything lived inside of it yet. It was a few inches bigger than your hand, and in a beautiful shade of green.

A cold breeze welcomed you to the surface. You took a deep breath, shaking your head and getting the water away from your eyes. Your face felt like it was burning, but you know the cold was causing it.

You cleaned the shell, brushing your fingers against the mud stucked inside it. It really was a beautiful shade of green. Brighter than you could see underwater.

Absolutely perfect for your collection. All other green shells you've ever found had crustaceans living inside of them, and you would never leave them without a home. This one will make it all even more special.

You laughed to youself, observing all its details. You continued to explore the surface, crossing the river a few more times. You knew it like the palm of your hand. Maybe even better than your own bedroom.

You can be bored, overwhelmed, exhausted: this place solves it easily. Its silence involves your brain, and its water washes over the very fabric of your soul. You can feel it. The knots coming lose, the tissue shining, each thread becoming softer.

Shan Yu released the handle of his jian when you emerged, froze in place as his eyes followed your every movement. As if cursed, his body wasn't his to control anymore. Immovable muscles, unstoppable heart. His worries were shut down, any hardship simply erased from his usually sharp memory.

Moonlight blinded him for an instant. No, it was you. Your light was that bright. Was he seeing your soul? Brighter than the moon, as enebriating as barley, more soothing than popy.

Your light casts no shadow.

Were you a witch? A sorceress dominating his body and mind, sinking Shan Yu into a trance he would never want to get out of. Or were you a siren? Luring him into the water, waiting for the perfect chance to bite his heart out of his chest.

He can't believe you're any of those. None could be half as beautiful as you. A nymph. Only that could explain your beauty.

He admire you. The old scar on your knees, stretch marks on your waist, freckles on your back. The way your eyes shone as you collected your shells, how your body moved as if the water wasn't an obstacle but a path made for you to follow.

It was so cold, but that didn't stopped you from doing what you wanted. It takes a certain hunger to do something you desire despite the world around you. For now, deep into the mountains, you were free.

Your laugh made him forget about everything. That sound was deserving of a thousand praises. People should dedicate their lifes for the chance of witnessing you blossoming.

A small price for such a great gift.

But you sneezed, and that woke up Shan Yu from his trance. He was reminded of where he was and who he is. Of how cold it was. Shan Yu looked at your clothes again. Such a light tissue would never fully protect you. Unlike his fur.

Unlike him.

With a storm for a heart, Shan Yu approached. Glaring at your back, he purposely stepped on a branch.

Part of you hoped to be surprised by an animal, but you knew someone was standing behind you. You couldn't see who was there, but you knew someone not looking for trouble wouldn't be there.

It's fair ground then.

"If you want to approach me, do it", you whispered. You didn't need to be any louder to be heard. Your fingers clenched around the shell you were studying, aware the only thing stopping it from being a weapon was your intent. "But I am not fazed by blood."

A chuckled was heard. A man, of course it was. What surprised you was to hear him walking away.

You turned around, but all you saw was the stranger's back as he dissapeared among the trees. Folded over your clothes, you found a wolf fur coat. You hesitate before brushing your wet fingers against it. It was so warm and soft.

Warm, soft and real.

You were quick to get out of the river, drying yourself with a towel. You put on your clothes, took the basket and ran towards the old path you made sure to hide with stones. Apparently not everyone was deceived by it.

A scream came out of your throat as you bumped into someone. Your basket fell on the ground as a familiar hand squeezed your shoulder.

"Mom", you whispered. You blinked, trying to stop yourself from feeling... whatever it was that you were feeling. You gave her your brightest smile, kneeling down to grab all your things. "I know it's late, I was already heading back home."

That earned you a hiss. You did your best to hold the smile. "You're trembling", she said. "I've warned you. You'll get sick."

"I won't", you said. "I promise."

She bit back a smile. So calm, so full of certain. Making promises you can't possibly keep, and somehow keeping them anyway.

"You better", she took the basket from your hand, looking at your new findings. "Your father already has enough patients as it is."

Going back home was always the worst part, but even there you could feel the cage closing around you. One thing is to be alone at the river, other to be lonely at your home. There nothing can distract you from thinking until your mind is far away from this village.

Instead of walking forward, you glanced back.

Part of you knew he would be there. Like a ghost at the corner of your eyes. It still chocked you to see his sillhouet there, a blurr in the darkness, right where you left the coat.

Now, you were the one observing him. Trying to understand him. Had he stayed there, hidden somewhere to observe you after his gift? Or did he heard your scream, and only then decided to come back?

You forced yourself to move away. Your mother could never see him. It would be the end of your free evenings if she ever discovered you were naked, futhermore if she even dreamed a man was near.

Unaware of your curious gaze, Shan Yu brushed the mark of your wet fingers on his coat. It got your attention, earned your touch, gained the sweet perfume of your skin. It was a gift, and one you so politely declined.

As if a saint would ever accept anything coming from a conqueror. "Now that is a challenge."

Back at the inn, Shan Yu was a new man. Maybe it was your laugh. Perhaps your freedom. Now, Shan Yu wasn't worrying anymore.

He already knew what to do.

⋆✦⋆

A scream woke you up.

You pulled the blanket away from your sweaty body, hands trembling as you moved. Surrounded by darkness, your heart beating so loud you could feel it twitching on your ears, you sat on the bed and faced the darkness surrounding you.

A nightmare. Squeezing the fabric of your nightgown, you tried to force yourself to calm down. Don't allow it to consume you, you thought. Be good, be quiet.

They were gone for a while now. It's been a few weeks since you last woke up at midnight, silence devouring you alive, searching for a comfort that just wasn't there. After a lifetime of nights filled with terror, you saw the anesthetized sleep as a good omen.

Should you see this night as a bad one?

Part of you hoped to be proven wrong. With your fingers brushing against your lips, you wonded if you really screamed in your sleep. In worse nights, worse times, you would wake up to your father holding you down. He isn't there, your house is silent.

Everything is fine.

But hope is a treacherous thing. So easily it lift you up to your feet, so quickly it shoves you down on the ground again.

Of course you father isn't holding you down. Of course your house is silent. Of course you feel alone. It's because you are.

A messenger came a few hours ago. Someone was injured. If they didn't bring the girl there, the reason was obvious: it was so bad they were afraid to move her. And if your parents aren't home already, then it is worse than you have imagined.

You hugged yourself. You know that being alone in that house is the first step for your mind to break you. You would start to think about this place, about your old home, and soon your mind would worry about the place you need to go when he is back.

If he comes back. After this war is over, will you have a husband you despise or a funeral to attend? A husband you dislike is easy to deal with, specialy if he comes back sick and tired. To find another one is worse: they might chose one you hate.

Steps made you stop worrying. Your heard the gate swing open, and that made you walk barefeet to the entrance of your home. Brushing your eyes, you noticed a shadow getting closer to the main door. They're home now.

For now, all you wanted was to not be alone anymore. "I had another nightmare", you spoke while sliding the door open, aware they could hear you from the other side. "Is she dead?"

Instead of what you expected, you saw him.

His golden gaze felt so heavy on your skin. The tall man, surrounded by darkness as if it was his to command, covered by fur and smelling like steel and iron. His sword glistened, his teeth too.

You felt like a prey. A sleepy rabbit facing a hungry wolf. His gaze reminded you of a predator, a cruel one playing with its meal.

Then you saw the eagle on his broad arm. That made you aware of his name. Oh, how you head the whispers. A man surrounded by death and blood. The bearer of destruction and fear. Leader of an army with a single duty: to break China apart.

"No one died tonight", Shan Yu whispered, somehow apologetic. As if he was an unexpected visitor with a good reason to surprise you, not a wild man that appeared in the middle of the night armed while you're alone. "You had another nightmare?"

You should've screamed. You should've ran away from him. But instead, understanding the only thing keeping Shan Yu from being violent is his desire to do so, you looked into his eyes and pretended to be fine. "What do you seek here?"

Closer, Shan Yu discovered he was wrong about you. The light inside your eyes was a mistake of his. They're on fire. Burning inside you, you soul warmed him.

"Your heart", Shan Yu answered, taking a step back. "Care to join me?"

You glared at the open gates, then at his eyes again. You waited for a manic laugh, a mean gaze, anything that showed the violence implicit on his words. If it was there, your eyes didn't catch it.

A hun after a chinese. A man oathed to destroy your nation asking for your heart. Maybe a few years ago when you were young and stupid this could almost sound like a fairytale. You know how to name this situation: spoil of war.

"You said no one died tonight", your throat burned. "But if I don't follow you... someone will, right?"

It took him a second, but the true meaning of your words hit Shan Yu like a poisoned arrow. "I wasn't threatening you", he started to clarify his intentions, but you stepping forward shut him.

Shan Yu saw anger on your eyes, disgust on the curl of your lips. Violence fits you heavenly. "But you will hurt others", how dry you sounded. Heartless. But he could see the truth behind it all. You were about to explode, but couldn't allow yourself to. "I rather not see this village burn like the others you passed by."

Shan Yu takes what he wants, claims what he desire, get rid of what doesn't fit his goals. But you're not a thing to be possessed. You're a person. A person that shines and burns. He can't take your love from you. Shan Yu can only hope for it.

Shan Yu wants to earn you.

"You will be my empress", he declared. "My heart is yours. I will wait until you feel the same. I won't touch you unless you allow me. I will protect your honor, defend your body and mind."

You chuckled. "Shan Yu, do you really believe in love at first sight?"

"Moon, I will give you China as a dowry", was his answer.

Your name coming out of his mouth made shivers run down your spine. You sighed. "You won't give up, will you?"

He wouldn't. Shan Yu would never.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight

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[dovesdreaming]

Hello! can you write a fic for steve harrington with the song “Still Into You” by Paramore?? i was thinking like they secretly liked each other through all of high school (hallway/class crush, visiting each other at work “as friends”, hanging out as a group but always finding each other) and after they graduate, steve asks her to just hang out for the first time alone and decides to tell her how he feels, but she feels the same???

Stolen glances

Ahh I’m so sorry this took so long!! I included most of your request I only tweaked it slightly. This also does not follow any time line of the series or anything. Thank you for such a good request!!

-not fully edited-

Warnings: none

Word count: 1k

You couldn’t count the years that you had liked Steve Harrington on one hand. You’ve known him all throughout high school. It started when he was still king Steve and he walked around like he owned the school, you would frequently make eye contact in the hallways and in class. You thought he was unattainable in every way, be it friends or a relationship, so when he started winking at you when you caught each others eyes you took it he was teasing you.

You weren’t unpopular by any means, you were just average which means you mostly fly under the radar of the popular people like Steve. However, Your hallway relationship shifted when he was dethroned by billy. You saw the change in him as a person and you liked the new him even more. He seemed a lot more approachable. The change you saw in your relationship could be in your imagination but you were hopeful that the new sense of longing in his eyes when you made eye contact was real.

It was a shock when only a few weeks later after this change you saw him at scoops ahoy. You almost did a 180 and speed walked away from the shop but Steve had already seen you. It was like he wanted you to approach the counter and you definitely couldn’t walk away now, so gathering all your confidence you joined the short queue of a few people. You noticed Steve taking glances at you but kept your focus elsewhere, afraid that making eye contact again would make you melt like the ice cream you were about to get.

When it was your turn you were thankful Steve was behind the counter and had to start the conversation with “what would you like today?”. Your conversation carried on as normal til he was cashing your order up and he lifted his head to you. You could tell he had words on the tip of his tongue he wanted to say but he just shook his head and handed you your change. The interaction left you slightly deflated but you could always come back.

You became a regular at the ice cream shop, Steve getting your usual order ready for you as soon as he saw you at the door. You and Steve mostly exchanged the usual pleasantries but sometimes if you were lucky you would talk about each others day or joke about one of your teachers. You looked forward to your interactions everyday and your little crush grew a bit more every time he smiled at you. At school your looks in the hallway now lasted a lot longer with both of your friend groups catching onto the obvious tension between you both.

During your visits to the ice cream shop you had also become sort of friends with Robin, who was the one to make the move neither you or Steve were willing to do. She invited you to hang out with their friend group for an arcade night. You were happy to agree and left feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. What you didn’t see was Steve bickering with Robin about what she just did, you were long gone in the mall fantasising about all the possibilities that could happen. Steve wanted to murder Robin, he couldn’t talk to you. Ever since he lost his title of king Steve he had also lost his way to flirt with women. He wanted the ground to swallow him up.

When the night came you were pleasantly surprised to find you got along with everyone, even the kids of the group who were a few years younger. You had mainly talked to Robin and Nancy during the night only interacting with Steve in bigger group settings, it was still more than what had happened the past few years though. However, robin and Nancy had a plan to set you and Steve up. So they both made an excuse to leave which left you and Steve alone. It was awkward for the first few minutes neither knowing what to say but once the awkwardness was cut you found that you got along like a house on fire. You actually shared many of the same interests and values, this did not help your crush on him whatsoever.

You both got invested into the conversation and blocked the rest of the world out, you had forgotten anything existed outside of Steve’s eyes. The loud noise of the arcade eventually weighed on your ears though and the conversation moved outside. This made your conversation take a deeper route. The air between you felt different, in the quiet air not much needed to be said anymore you just stood next to each other taking the world in. Steve broke the comfortable silence first. He was looking down at the ground and nervously ran a hand through his hair when he quietly said “you know I’ve liked you since I first saw you in the hallway?”. You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t think this was a possibility and it shocked you to your core. Your silence made Steve nervous though, he couldn’t read your expression and it sent him into nervous rambling. Your brain short circuited and with a boost of adrenaline you shut him up with a harder than anticipated kiss to his lips which caused Steve to stumble back a bit. He kissed you back with passion and need that had grown from all the longing gazes you had shared. You both reluctantly pulled away out of breath, foreheads resting against each other. You breathily said “we wasted so many years, I’ve been into you since the start”. You both laughed at the pure shock of the situation. After a few more shared kisses Steve finally asked you out on a date, one that you had both waited years for.

You and Steve recount these memories years later with fondness. You both still get butterflies when looking into each others eyes just like you used to when your eyes met in the hallways, you will never get over the butterflies he gives you because your both still very much into each other. Not a day goes by that you’re not into each other, you and Steve share a very content life with each other, one that you would never get over how you got so lucky.

Thank you for reading!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Provenance | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y

Word Count: 6703

A/N: Taglist will be closing at the start of season 2! if you aren't currently tagged, and you'd like to join, please please let me know within the next two posts!!

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You gripped your beer tightly watching Dean getting a girl’s number across the bar from you. 

“(Y/N), if you hold that thing any tighter, you’re gonna break it,” Sam snorted. “What’s your deal?”

You looked back at Sam but were unable to pull your eyes from Dean and his new “friend” for longer than a few seconds. “Nothing.” You took a swig of your drink.

“Are you sure you don’t know how you feel about Dean?” the brunet taunted. 

You shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He snickered in response and returned to looking over the papers in front of him.

You waved Dean over, who held a hand up behind the woman’s back to get you to wait. You gestured again and his smile dropped. He said something to her quickly before making his way back over to you. 

“I think we got something,” Sam told his brother. 

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave; just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one.”

You rolled your eyes. “So, what are we today, Dean? Rock stars, army rangers?”

“Reality TV scouts,” he grinned at you, ignoring the bite in your voice. “Looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?”

“If by ‘not far off’ you mean ‘completely off the mark,’ then you’re spot on,” you deadpanned.

Dean shot you a look while he turned to his brother. “By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam responded to his question.

“Yeah, you can, but you don't.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. What you got?”

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all—” He trailed off as his brother looked back at the women at the bar. 

“Dean!” you snapped your fingers at him.

He turned back. “Huh, what?”

“No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside,” Sam continued.

“Could just be a garden variety murder, you know, not our department,” Dean answered.

“No. Dad says different.”

“What do you mean?” Dean’s interest was piqued at the mention of his dad.

You pointed at the map. “John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second, right here in 1945, and the third in 1970. Same M.O. as the Telescas. Throats slit, doors locked from the inside; the whole nine. Now, so much time passed that nobody checked the pattern. Except for your dad. It’s frustrating how much better he is at this than me sometimes,” you muttered at the end of your sentence.

“Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up ‘til first thing though right?” Dean asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“Good.” Before you could stop him, Dean was off to the two women again.

You were fuming; staring daggers at him and downing the rest of your drink.

Sam snickered at you. “Let’s get you out of here before you end up killing one of those girls.”

“Nah, I’d kill your brother. They didn’t do anything wrong,” you responded, helping Sam pick up the papers scattered about the table. “How ‘bout the Telescas’ house?” you asked.

***

You and Sam headed back to the motel you were staying in to research the history of the Telescas’ home. You sprawled out across Dean’s bed with your laptop, and Sam sat on his bed with his laptop.

“Finding anything?” you asked him.

“Nope. You?”

You shook your head. “Nada.”

He shut his laptop. “So? You wanna talk about it?”

You shut yours, too. “About what?”

“Dean?”

“Oh, hell no,” you snorted.

“You two are made for each other,” he deadpanned at your boxed-up emotions.

“Fuck off, Sam,” you retorted. “What about you? Still not ready to jump back into the dating pool?” You snuggled into the blankets on Dean’s bed, reveling in his scent emanating off them.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What was she like?” you asked after a moment.

“Who?”

“Jessica. You never told me much about her.”

He sighed. “She was just… the best, man. You two would’ve gotten along great, honestly. She was—” he grinned sadly at the thought of her, “—so smart. So beautiful. Quick, witty, and…” he shook his head. “I was looking for wedding rings. Few weeks before she...”

You smiled sadly at him. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was,” he responded. A quiet settled over the room.

“Don’t you think she would’ve wanted you to be… I don’t know, happy? Do you think she’d want you to move on? It’s been almost a year,” you said. “Jesus, I’ve known you guys for almost a year now," you realized.

He chuckled before going quiet again momentarily. “I think she would. But Jess… I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully over her. She was my best friend, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get it. I’m glad you had that with her, though. Sounds like you really loved each other.”

“We did.”

You and Sam went silent once more, and you succumbed to the tiredness of your limbs and mind. You were so comforted by the scent of worn leather, Dean’s cologne, and whiskey, that you slept better than you had in years.

***

When you woke up the next morning, Sam was standing over you, shaking you gently. You popped up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and putting a hand to his throat. “Hey, hey,” he tried to calm you down, “Dean’s back.” 

You released him immediately. “Sorry, dude. Uh… reflexes,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay. Dean does that, too.”

The man in question stumbled into the room tiredly. “Move your asses. Let’s go.”

***

You and Sam had just swept the Telescas’ house for EMF while Dean slept in the car trying to get over his hangover. When you returned to the car, you beeped the horn. Dean shot up a foot in the air and groaned. 

“Man, that is so not cool.” He adjusted his sunglasses and leaned back against the car door. You and Sam climbed into your seats and began to explain what you had been up to.

“We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were, well, out—” Sam trailed off.

Dean’s smirk made your stomach drop. “Good times.”

“—we checked the history of the house.”

“Nothing strange about the Telescas, either,” you said, swallowing your feelings.

“Alright,” Dean’s gravelly voice came, “so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something.”

“The house is clean,” you said.

“Yeah I know, you said that.”

“No, no, it’s empty. No furniture, nothing,” you explained.

Dean turned back to you. “Where's all their stuff?”

***

You felt so out of place in the swanky auction house the Telescas’ belongings had been brought to. Even the Impala looked like an outcast in the parking lot full of McLarens and Corvettes. 

You and the brothers wandered around the auction house, and you wrapped your jacket tightly around yourself.

“Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me,” Dean commented. He took some food from a tray table as a man came up behind you.

“Can I help you?” the man questioned. 

You wheeled around to face him.

“I'd like some champagne please,” Dean said in a mock posh voice.

You could’ve killed him. “He’s not a waiter.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at you, and you held out your hand to the man. “I’m (Y/N) Dewitt. This is Sam and Dean Connors. We’re with Connors Limited. We’re art dealers.”

The man didn’t give you the courtesy of a handshake. You fought the urge to make an inappropriate comment.

“You. Are… art dealers,” the man said, clearly having difficulty grasping that concept. “I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look.” Dean, of course, talked through a mouth full of food.

You shot a sharp look at Dean as he took a glass of champagne off the tray. He turned and walked off, and you followed him.

“Can you chill out?” you asked him.

“What?” he asked through a mouthful of champagne.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. I don’t like this crowd either, but relax.” You noticed a painting just beyond where you and Dean were talking. It was of a family in an American Gothic style; presumably from the early 1900s. The family contained three young girls in frilly dresses, a man with a gaunt and creepy face, and a woman you assumed was the mother seated in a chair.

“A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?” a woman’s voice called from behind you.

You turned to the place the voice came from to find an extremely good looking woman in a sleek black dress with glossed lips descending the staircase. You noticed Dean beginning to ogle her as Sam answered her. “Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did.”

The woman smiled as she approached you. “Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.”

“I’m Sam,” he said. “This is my… brother, Dean.” Dean was still stuffing his face with food from passing trays. “And our friend, (Y/N).”

“Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?” Sarah questioned.

You snorted. You liked her.

“I'm good, thanks,” he smiled through a full mouth.

“So, can I help you with something?” she asked Sam. You knew she liked him; she was giving him the same look you often gave Dean.

“Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?” Sam asked her.

She grimaced. “The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” Sam asked.

The man from earlier came up behind you. “I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your polite disposition. “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Apparently, I do,” he said.

“C’mon, Dean,” you said, dragging his arm out.

***

You and the brothers found a decently priced motel and approached the rooms you had been assigned.

“Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?” Dean scoffed at his brother.

“Art history course. It's good for meeting girls,” Sam replied simply.

Dean unlocked the door to his room and chuckled. “It's like I don't even know you.”

You walked a little further down to the room next to theirs and unlocked it only to find a gaudily outfitted room full of obnoxious disco decor. The "do not disturb" hanger was even of John Travolta’s silhouette from Saturday Night Fever.

“Huh.” You dropped your bag off and headed back to the boys’ room.

“What was… providence?” Dean was asking as you entered the room.

“Provenance,” you corrected. “It’s like a biography for a painting. You use ‘em to check the history of the pieces; in this case, to see if they have a freaky past.”

“Alright, professor,” Dean taunted you. “Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but Sarah…” he smirked at his brother.

“Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin,” Sam smirked back.

“Not me,” Dean laughed.

You shot a look at Sam, too.

He seemed only mildly horrified. “No, no, no, pickups are your thing, Dean.”

“It wasn't my butt she was checking out,” Dean snorted.

You giggled despite yourself.

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information,” Sam deadpanned.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her,” Dean instructed his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, but took out his phone. You weren’t sure when he had gotten her number, but he left about an hour later to take her out to dinner.

You and Dean sat in awkward silence for a bit.

“So…”

“So…”

You went silent again. 

“What’s goin’ on with us, (Y/N)? You’ve barely spoken a word to me this whole trip.”

You huffed. “Nothing.”

“Obviously, it’s not nothing.” Dean held your challenging stare.

“Seriously, drop it, please,” you said.

“Fine. You wanna go get some food?”

You smiled despite yourself. “You know I do.”

You and Dean found a crappy diner with deliciously greasy burgers to stuff your faces with. 

“So, how ‘bout you, sweetheart? Why don’t you ever go out?” Dean asked.

“On dates, you mean?”

He nodded.

You nibbled on a fry. “I’m just not one for hookups. I can’t take ‘em,” you admitted. “You, though, are king of the unattached drifters.”

He chuckled. “What’s wrong with hookups? 

“I get too attached, which kind of defeats the whole purpose,” you replied. “The idea of being intimate with somebody I don’t even know makes me want to throw up.”

“Why? You’re gorgeous. Anybody would kill to get with you," he said casually.

You ignored the way your heart swelled in your chest. “It’s not that, it’s just…” you sighed. “I’m, like, allergic to vulnerability.”

“I get it,” Dean chuckled. “You know by now I’m not exactly the best with it, either.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re worse than me,” you quipped. “You look like you’re gonna throw up any time you have to tell me you’re sorry or something like that.”

“Maybe it’s just your face,” he retorted.

“Hey!” you giggled. “You can’t call me gorgeous one minute then tell me looking at me makes you sick the next.”

He chuckled. “I just did, so…”

“Whatever, Winchester. What is it about hookups you enjoy so much, anyway?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “Sex is just fun, I guess. Always helps me blow off steam.”

You scoffed. “I’m sure it does.”

“I’m serious! Helps me take a break from… all this.” He gestured around him. 

“That’s why you have hobbies, Dean. Sex is not a hobby.”

“It can be! You draw, Sam reads, I fuck."

“Well, get a better one,” you scoffed.

“What would you suggest I do? Knitting?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, just… something a little more wholesome, maybe. You said it yourself, it doesn’t always make you feel great.”

“Never should’ve told you that,” he responded.

“Well, ya did, so.”

He snorted at you. “It’s frustrating how well you know me sometimes.”

“Oh, look at that, another crumb of vulnerability from Mr. Closed Book.”

“That’s the best diss you could come up with?”

“Hey, it’s not easy being effortlessly funny all the time,” you retorted. “It’s a lot of pressure.”

***

When you and Dean returned to the motel room, you pulled out your whetstone to sharpen your knives.

“Who you plannin’ on carvin’ up, sweetheart?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you answered.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he remarked.

“You do literally all the time,” you quipped. “You’re lucky you’re still in one piece. If you give me yours, I’ll sharpen ‘em, too.”

“Thanks,” he said. He handed his knives over to you. 

Sam burst through the door at that moment holding a stack of papers. “Got ‘em.”

“So she just handed the providences over to you?” Dean questioned.

“Provenances,” you corrected.

“We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers—”

Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And?”

“And nothing. That's it. I left.”

“You didn't have to con her or do any… special favors or anything like that?” Dean questioned.

“Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?” the younger brother scoffed.

“You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that.”

Sam ignored his brother. “Hey, I think I've got something here.”

You headed over to Sam’s seated position at the desk and looked over his shoulder at the papers. “ ‘Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910’,” you read off.

“Now, compare the names of the owners with my dad's journal,” Sam said.

Dean pulled it out. “First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970.”

“Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it,” Sam continued.

“So what do you think? It's haunted? Or cursed?” you asked.

“Either way, it's toast,” said Dean, getting up from his bed.

***

Under the cover of night, you and the brothers broke into the auction house. You were consistently impressed with and sexually frustrated by how easy scaling tall fences and gates were for Dean. 

“Come on!” Dean urged you. 

You disarmed the security alarm, wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. “Go ahead,” you whispered. 

Dean picked the lock at your cue. You shone your flashlight ahead of you searching for the painting. When you found it, you and the boys were in and out within minutes. You and the boys had clearly been breaking and entering for years. You found it comical almost how good you were. You brought the painting out to a field behind the arthouse and set it alight.

Dean dusted off his hands. “Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.”

***

Dean banged on your door the next morning. “We got a problem. I can't find my wallet.”

You opened it. “How the hell do you lose your wallet?”

“I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.”

“Fuck, dude, that’s bad.” You started pulling on your boots as he paced around the room.

“Yeah, I know. It's got my prints, my ID— well, my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on.”

You and the brothers hurried around the auction house searching for the wallet. Sam was clearly frustrated with his brother until he caught sight of Sarah.

“Hey guys!” she smiled.

You wheeled around at the sound of her voice and attempted to act cool.

“Sarah! Hey,” Sam breathed. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ahh, we.... we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye,” Sam responded.

“What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two,” Dean grinned as he strolled up to the two. He took his wallet out of his pocket and shot a look at Sam. “By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you.” He turned to Sarah. “I always forget, you know.” Dean chuckled and you grinned as he held out the cash to his brother. Sam took it and glared at him. “Well, we’ll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta go do something… somewhere.”

“Smooth, Dean,” you told him as you walked away from Sarah and Sam. The two of you headed back out to the Impala and sat in it waiting for Sam. When he returned, he was frantically saying the painting was back in the auction house.

“I don't understand. We burned the damn thing,” Sam rushed out.

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Dean remarked. 

“Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?” you chimed in.

“Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em,” Sam began.

“Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?” 

“Merchant,” you answered. “I say we find us a bookstore.”

***

And so, that was where you headed. You found a proprietor whose personality was interesting, to say the least. You found his quirk had a bit of charm to it.

“You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?” he asked you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam said.

You and Dean were flicking through a book with pictures of guns in it. The proprietor laid a book of newspaper clippings on the table in front of you. “I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, are you folks crime buffs?”

“Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?” you responded.

He held up the newspaper article before him. It talked about the sinking of the Titanic, and just next to it, read “Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.”

“Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean replied.

“The whole family was killed?” You tilted your head.

“It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor,” the proprietor explained.

“Why'd he do it?” Sam questioned.

“Let's look. Ahh... ‘People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter…’ “ he skimmed on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… ‘There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.’ Which of course you know in that day and age, um, so instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave.” He drew his hand across his throat and made a noise to go along with it. You and Dean joined in laughing with the proprietor.

“Does it say what happened to the bodies?” asked Dean.

The proprietor shook his head. “Just that they were all cremated.”

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here. Somewhere. Right— here it is.”

It was a picture of the painting, but something seemed off to you. 

“Hey, could we get a copy of this please?” Sam asked the man. 

He nodded, and returned a few minutes later with it.

***

You and the boys sat at a table in the motel room and looked over the copy of the picture. 

“I’m telling you,” you started, “The picture at the auction house, Dad’s looking down. Here, dad’s looking out. The painting changed.”

“Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?” Dean questioned.

“Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?” Sam asked.

“Maybe other things changed in the painting, too. Maybe it could give us some clues,” you answered.

“What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Dean looked down at you, confused. “I’m lost. Still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.” He walked over to his bed and laid back, crossing his arms. “Which is a good thing ‘cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend.”

Sam huffed. “Dude, enough already.”

“What?” he responded.

“What? Ever since we got here, you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?” he said defensively.

“Sam, relax,” you told him.

“Well, you like her don't you?” Dean pushed.

Sam threw his arms up and looked to the ceiling.

“Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consenting adults…” Dean trailed off with a smile.

“What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave,” came Sam’s frustrated response.

“Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam.”

Sam snarled angrily. “You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?”

“ ‘Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time,” Dean answered calmly.

Sam stared at him and huffed before looking away.

“Look, I’m not crazy about hookups either, but maybe it would be helpful,” you suggested.

“And this isn't about just hooking up, okay?” Dean continued. “I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you. And... I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy.” Sam’s eyes welled with tears as his brother continued to talk. “God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?”

“Yeah, I know she would,” Sam responded softly. “Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about?” you asked.

He wouldn’t answer you.

“Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…” Dean trailed off.

Sam picked up his phone and cleared his throat. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, settling back on his bed. 

“Sarah, hey, it's Sam… Hey, hi… Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?... Yeah good, good, really good.”

Dean opened one eye and looked at his brother. “Smooth.”

You suppressed a laugh. 

“So, ah, so listen,” Sam continued. “Me and my brother were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I- I think maybe we are interested in buying it… What?!” 

At Sam’s tone, you and Dean snapped to attention. 

“Who'd you sell it to?” Sam stood up. 

Dean rose and came to stand next to you.

“Sarah, I need an address right now,” Sam urged her.

Once she’d given it to you, you and the boys sped away in the Impala to an upscale neighborhood. You and the boys were surprised to see another car parked right outside the building: Sarah’s. 

“Sam, what's happening?” she asked as you and the boys ran up the front steps of the house.

“I told you, you shouldn't have come,” he responded.

“Hello, anyone home?” Dean banged on the heavy front door.

“You said Evelyn might be in danger; what sort of danger?” Sarah asked Sam frantically.

“I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.” Dean crouched down in front of you and you moved over to the windows, banging on them with all your might.

“What are you guys, burglars?” Sarah yelped.

“I wish it was that simple. Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good,” Sam told her.

Dean got the door open and you followed him inside quickly. 

“The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend,” she said, trailing behind you and the boys. “Evelyn?” She moved over to the elderly woman sitting half-turned away from you. Something was wrong and you knew it; the woman’s gaze seemed completely empty. “Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake. Are you alright?” She touched her shoulder gently. 

“Sarah, don't. Sarah!” Sam told her. 

Evelyn’s head tipped back, exposing her slashed throat.

Sarah jumped back in horror and screamed. Sam put his arm around her and led her out of the room. You and Dean stared up at the painting before following the younger brother out of the house.

***

Back in the motel room, you and Dean clacked away at the keys on your laptops while Sam paced in front of you. A knock on the door stirred all of you from your thoughts. Sarah stormed into the room and brushed past Sam.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked her.

“No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's— alone— and found her like that,” she answered, wheeling around.

“Thank you,” Sam nodded. 

“Don't thank me. I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?”

Sam looked back at you and Dean, and you shrugged.

“What,” he told her.

“What?”

“It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people,” he explained.

Sarah was still looking at Sam like he was insane.

“Sarah, you saw that painting move,” he sighed.

The woman began to pace. “No, no. I was— I was seeing things. It's impossible.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to our world,” Dean grinned.

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted.”

Sarah laughed humorlessly but had tears in her eyes. “You’re joking.” She looked between you and the Winchesters. “You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with.”

“Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth,” the brunet told her.

“Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and… and I don't want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

“Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well, me and my Dad sold that painting that might have gotten these people killed. Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell, but I'm not going to run and hide either.” Sarah strutted over to the door. “So are we going or what?” She walked out.

“Sam?” Dean said. “Marry that girl.”

***

You and the boys returned to Evelyn’s house to scope out the crime scene a little further. Sam picked the lock to let you, his brother, and Sarah inside.

“Uh, isn’t this a crime scene?” Sarah protested.

Dean smirked. “You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?”

Once inside, you and Sam got the painting down from off the wall to examine it. 

“Aren't you worried that it's gonna kill us?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're alright in the daylight.”

You took the copy of the painting out of your pocket. “Sam, check it out. The razor: it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one.”

“What are you guys looking for?” she asked.

“Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, then it's doing so for a reason,” Dean explained.

“And look, the painting in the painting,” you pointed out. “Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something.” 

Dean grabbed a thick glass ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass. You ignored how your body came alight as he wound his arm around you to reach the painting. “Merchant,” he read out.

***

Your next stop was a graveyard. Several, in fact. You stepped over gravestones carefully to avoid disrespecting the dead even further.

“What, are you superstitious?” Dean asked.

“A little, actually. I think I’m in such deep shit with the spirits already; I don’t wanna make it worse,” you laughed.

“You are somethin’ else, woman,” he smirked. “This is the third boneyard we've checked,” Dean addressed your group. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.”

Sam and Sarah talked amongst themselves behind you and you and Dean walked a bit ahead.

“Over there,” you said, pointing to a mausoleum. The group followed you into the mausoleum where you found four urns in front of little glass-fronted boxes on one wall. On the opposite, there were five brass nameplates. 

Sarah looked at one of the boxes containing a little porcelain doll with brown hair. “Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.”

“It was a sort of tradition at the time,” Sam told her. “Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case; put it next to the headstone or crypt.”

Wind blew in the mausoleum, sending a chill down your spine.

“Notice anything strange here?” Dean asked.

“Ah, where do I start?” remarked Sarah.

Sam snickered. 

“No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns,” said Dean.

“Yeah. There’s only four. Where’s the dad?” you questioned.

***

You and Dean discovered that Isaiah’s body had been buried in that same cemetery away from the rest of his family. You returned there that night with Sarah in tow. 

You stood watch with Sarah while the boys dug the hole down to Isaiah’s corpse. 

“You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” she said.

Sam climbed out of the hole laboriously. “Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?”

You giggled when Dean’s shovel tapped something hard. “Think I've got something.” He cracked the coffin open to reveal Isaiah’s rotten bones. You helped him out of the ground and began pouring salt and kerosene over the body. 

“You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance.” Dean tossed the match he’d struck down on top of the body. 

“God, I will never get used to that smell,” you commented.

“What? Burning flesh?” the older Winchester turned his head to you.

You made a face and scrunched up your nose to which Dean just smirked at you and chuckled.

***

You returned to Evelyn’s house soon after to make sure the job was complete and bury the painting. You and Dean remained outside and told Sam to go in with Sarah. You and Dean smiled at each other before turning the radio up. A love ballad played loudly through the speakers, and Sam turned to the two of you. You both snickered at the “what the fuck” gesture he was giving you. Sam motioned for the two of you to cut the music. You sighed and turned it off.

Before you and Dean could say a word to each other, the door slammed shut behind Sam and Sarah. You and Dean jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn, trying your best to unlock it. 

“Guys! Hey! Is that you?” Sam called from inside.

“Sammy, you alright?” the older brother asked. Moments later, you got a call from Sam.

“Tell me you slammed the front door,” you said after you answered.

“Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl,” he told you.

“The little girl? What girl?”

“What’s he saying?” Dean interjected, leaning close to your ear and the phone.

“Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along,” Sam said.

You snorted humorlessly. “The dad was trying to warn us all along. He was looking down at her the whole time.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here," the younger brother rushed out.

“Well, Dean’s trying to pick the lock, but the door won’t budge.”

“Well, knock it down!”

“Okay, smartass, just let me get my battering ram,” you remarked.

“(Y/N), the damn thing is coming!”

“I know, I know, just hold it off til we figure something out. Get some salt or iron or something,” you responded. “Stay on the phone with me!”

Moments later, you heard Sam say to himself, “What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks.” Another minute or so went by before he spoke back into the phone. “Uh, (Y/N), give me a sec, don't go anywhere.”

You and Dean began to walk around the outside looking for an alternative entrance. A bit of yelling and crashing was heard on the other end of the phone. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah, for now,” he responded.

“How’re we gonna waste her?” you asked.

“I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn.”

Dean got close to the phone again. 

“Then how's she still around?” you challenged.

“There must be something else!” Sam went silent on the other end, but you could faintly hear Sarah’s voice.

“(Y/N), Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains; same as bones.”

“The mausoleum,” you and Dean said in unison. 

“Hang tight, Sam,” you said, snapping your phone shut. You and Dean sprinted back to the car, and Dean drove as fast and as wildly as he possibly could.

“One of these days, your driving’s gonna fucking kill us all,” you said, gripping the leather of the seat next to you and the door. 

“Not now, (Y/N),” he responded evenly, driving even faster. He plowed straight through the fence of the cemetery and drove right up to the mausoleum. You and Dean jumped out of the car and hurried into the building.

Dean pounded the door of the glass box containing the doll with the butt of his gun, and then went to walk out of the mausoleum. “Come on, Dean,” he grimaced. “Cover your eyes!” He told you. He shot at the box, and you shielded your face as he did so. You leapt back into action and knocked away more of the glass with your hands, cutting them as you did so. You ignored the burning in your palms and took the doll out of its case. 

You held the doll’s hair over the lighter, which Dean was having trouble lighting. “Come on, come on!” he said. Thankfully, the lighter caught the hairs of the doll and sent it up in flames. You dropped it on the floor between you and Dean and watched the rest of the doll burn.

Dean pulled out his phone moments later to call his brother. “Sam, you good?” He breathed a sigh of relief and hung up the phone.

You looked down at your bloodied hands. Dean followed your gaze. “(Y/N), you maniac, what were you doin’ pawin' at that glass with your bare hands, huh?”

“It seemed like a good idea in the moment,” you mumbled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” He guided you back to the car. He held your wrists and sat you down in the front seat of his car. He went to his trunk and returned a few moments later. He sat next to you and gingerly began wiping down your hands. You hissed and grabbed his hand at the pain. He looked back up to you and paused momentarily.

“Sorry,” you said.

“All good,” he responded and went back to work. He gently cleaned your wounds with an alcohol-soaked rag and began to wrap up your left hand. You watched as he worked, heart swelling at the kind gesture.

“Thank you,” you said. 

“You’d do the same for me,” he muttered.

“I would,” you affirmed, smiling. 

He picked a piece of glass out of your right hand. You hissed again. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s probably gonna need stitches.” He handed you his flask. “Drink this.”

You did as told and took a sip, swallowing sharply as you felt the first prick of the needle in your palm. “I’m not trying to be a little bitch. I’m really not when it comes to pain,” you said. “I can finish stitchin’ me up on my own if you wanna get back to Sam—”

“No. Let me,” he responded authoritatively. He looked up through his eyelashes at you before returning his attention to your fingers. He ran his along yours and gingerly cleaned the cuts, giving special attention to the deeper ones before bandaging the exterior of your hands. You flexed them painfully.

“Thank you. Seriously,” you said softly.

“Any time,” he responded.

***

“This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds," Dean explained to you. “Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Huh,” you said. “Psycho bitch.”

He scoffed. “You know you’re talking about a kid, right?”

“Yeah. Psycho bitch all the same.”

You and Dean were waiting outside of the auction house for Sam to finish talking to Sarah. You and he leaned against the car, watching Sarah and Sam talking at the door. Sam turned away from her before turning back moments later. He grabbed Sarah’s waist and pulled him to her, kissing her deeply. 

“That's my boy,” Dean smiled.

“Alright, perv,” you remarked. You shoved him down into the car.

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