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fictionalsweethearts · 9 hours ago

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THE COMMISSION PT. 3 | SEVIKA X READER | ARCANE

You can find part one here. Part two here.

Synopsis: You've been her personal mechanic for two years, but your growing reputation in the field has earned you dozens of clients and commissions. Sevika was looking for something fresh, durable and of good quality, and when it came to her sexual appetite, she only accepted the best. So she turned to you for a special commission.

Contains: arcane!sevika, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of dialogues, arcane universe, cannon sevika, mechanic!reader, wlw, slow burn baby 💋, several parts btw

Word count: 4,345

Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

After that episode, Sevika stopped your supply of Shimmer and threatened any dealers that she would rip out their tongues and eyes if they dared to sell you, so the following week you found yourself in enforced sobriety.

You were adding the finishing touches to the strap, Sevika wanted it to be comfortable and aesthetically pleasing, so that was what you did. The straps were made of fine leather, secured with adjustable snaps. However, it was the long, veiny phallus that was the star of the piece, provided with texture and a purple color, quite similar to Shimmer. On the back, there was a small compartment with the dose of Shimmer, interconnected with the rest of the piece and the wearer, making the strap a dynamic, vibrant piece and certainly better than any other made of plastic or silicone. This one was “alive” so to speak, and designed so that the thrusts would release small bursts of Shimmer into the wearer’s bloodstream, causing as much pleasure as the one receiving it. One of your best pieces, you put a lot of pride into it and it cost you two sleepless nights and delaying other orders to give this one your full attention.

You made your way through the crowd. For a couple of weeks now, The Last Drop has been more crowded, the good sales of shimmer and the economic bonanza it brought made people look for a place to dance, drink more and bet their money in games that Sevika usually won.

Sevika.

You saw her at the back of the club, just like a few weeks ago when you went to her to check her arm and receive the commission you now had ready and kept in a box. She was focused on her cards, a cigarette between her lips and a couple of opponents with pursed lips sitting before her.

"Am I bothering?" you asked once you approached.

"Silco isn't taking guests." she muttered, without taking her eyes off the cards.

"I'm not here to see Silco." you said with a smirk before Sevika realized it was you.

She looked you up and down, taking in your appearance. You looked… good. Rested, healthy, and more beautiful than ever. It was a striking difference from the last time she had seen you, and it made her feel more confident than ever about her decision to take away your Shimmer supply.

"Well, hello yourself." she said, raising a brow. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

"Merry early Christmas." you teased, placing the box on the table. "Commission done."

She smiled, taking one last glance at her cards before folding and placing them face down. Her opponents grumbled as they laid down their own and counted up their chips, which Sevika quickly started sliding towards her. She picked up the box, feeling the weight of it in her hands. "Finally. Took you long enough."

"Quality takes time." you smirked, leaning to take a sip of Sevika's glass. The woman lifted the lid to peek inside, knowing she had to take a better look of the product in private.

"Continue without me, boys." Sevika said, quitting the game in order to stand up and head to her office with you.

The other players grumbled in annoyance as Sevika stood up, but their protests died out as Sevika glowered at them.

"If I come back and see you've touched my chips, I'll make sure you lose a few fingers." Sevika warned, her voice dripping with malice.

They entered a dimly lit office, the smell of wood and tobacco welcoming you as soon as you set foot inside. There was a coffee table in the center, on it a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses, in front of it a vermilion sofa darkened by age and the ashes of hundreds of cigarettes. The office was undeniably Sevika's, she was a sober woman and the room showed it, however you always liked the small jar painted in gold and blue paint, which used to keep mint candies for the breath. The truth is that you tended to eat them yourself and force Sevika to buy more.

"How is Silas?" you asked as you entered, following Sevika. "Did his dick fall off?"

"No, but it's probably the only thing still functional about him." She replied, shutting the door behind her.

She walked over to the coffee table, dropping the box on it before turning her attention to the bottle of whiskey. She poured two glasses before passing one to you.

"Here." She said. "You look like you could use a drink."

"Indeed." you agreed, taking the glass between your fingers. "Booze seems an alternative, since someone put me on forced sobriety."

“Yeah, I’m not sorry about that.” She muttered, taking a sip of her drink. “You were out of control.”

She walked over to the sofa, taking a seat and gesturing for you to do the same. “Now, though,” she said, her voice a hint softer, “you do look better, I have to admit.”

"I look tired." you grumbled. "You know how hard is to work sober? I can't barely make the half of orders I used to finish in a day."

"You look gorgeous when you're tired." She observed, her voice low and full of innuendo. She took another sip from her drink, leaning back into the sofa. "And as for your orders, I don't care if you have to hire a damn army to finish them. You're not touching Shimmer again until I say so."

Sevika changed the subject so quickly that you couldn't comment on her casual compliment. Her eyes didn't betray the way she looked at you, nor the thoughts that had been running through her mind since she asked you for such a commission. She was sweet on you but her demeanor masked it well. "The workshop's rent is getting higher by the month." you said then. "I cannot afford working any less."

"I'll cover the rent," she offered, her voice gruff. "You just focus on your work."

The speed with which she resolved the issue struck you as comical, Sevika seemed convinced enough of the quality of your work to become your financier. You huffed. "Are you into charity now?"

"Charity? Hardly." She replied, her voice dry. "I prefer to think of it as an investment. You're an investment."

She paused to look at you, the way you traced the rim of the glass with your finger, your exposed shoulders, the softness of your neck, your cheekbones visibly more flushed with sobriety. She let out a sigh. "Besides, you owe me."

"Owe you?" you asked.

She couldn't contain a smirk. "For one," she started. "You're sitting in my office, drinking my booze, and you've still yet to even show me the commission I asked for. That's one reason."

She leaned forward, her gaze steady on you. "Two, you've been sleeping and eating in my club for weeks now. You think those things come free?"

Funny. Nothing's free when it comes to Sevika. She believed in the power of trades, of taking advantage of people’s qualities in an honest and effective way. You couldn’t deny that you’d turned to Sevika more times than you’d care to admit, whether it was to get another dose of Shimmer, sleep somewhere other than the workshop, and even sneak into her office and eat her snacks while she was minding her business at the brothel. Not to mention that she was now offering to pay your rent. You owed Sevika, whether you liked it or not. Your silence was your answer.

She leaned back into the sofa again, her expression smug. "That's what I thought." She muttered, taking another sip from her drink. "You're in my debt, dollface. And sooner or later, I'm going to collect."

She put the glass down, her eyes flickering to the box. "Now, are you gonna show me my commission?"

You sat up on the couch and nodded, Sevika's words not to be ignored. "Sure." you said, leaning over to carefully open the cherry-colored box you had brought for her. You lifted the lid and carefully placed the product on the table, unwrapping it.

Sevika couldn't help the way her eyebrow rose, her eyes studying the piece intently before a grin played on her dark lips. What a piece. "Damn." She muttered, her voice low with appreciation. Her hand hovered over the item, the tips of her fingers carefully tracing the leather straps, the velvety texture of the phallus.

"Is the color alright?"

Sevika took the strap, running her fingers over the texture and feel of its components, her eyes taking in the small Shimmer compartment in the back, the neatness of the finishes, even the light, comfortable weight. "Yeah. This is... better than I imagined." She admitted, her eyes flickering to you.

"Just make sure to not overdo it." you warned her, watching the woman testing the weight, the lightness of the piece and the exceptional quality of the materials. She seemed pleased, even though her face was inaccessible when it came to expressions. "It releases small doses of Shimmer, make sure to not wear it for too long."

"Oh, I'll definitely be testing the limits of this thing." She replied, her voice thick with innuendo. "I know when to stop."

"Just don't overdose." you mumbled, leaning back on the couch as Sevika stored the strap back into the box.

"I'm a big girl. I know how to handle myself." she insisted, taking a sip of the glass as her mind began going to places. The potential was massive.

You let out a sigh, you were sober and tired, the smell of the workshop clinging to your overalls and your hands still stained with oil and ink, which seemed to acquire the status of tattoos since they didn't seem to come off with any washing. You finished the glass, Sevika got up to search through her desk for the second half of your pay. She came back, holding out the the pouch. "Here." She said. "All yours."

You accepted the money willingly, thinking you would spend it on something stupid right away. You weren't good with finances, it's an understatement to say that if Sevika didn't manage your expenses regarding materials, machinery and labor, your business would go to hell overnight. She was always behind, watching over you and your lack of common sense when you had a bag full of coins. "I'll make sure to use them wisely."

"Oh, that's what you always say." She teased in return, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "And then what do you do instead? Gamble it all away at the fight pits, I suppose?" She knew better than to trust you with money. You'd always been as reliable as a leaky ship, especially when you were hopped up on Shimmer.

"I make good bets." you replied. "But the fighters are getting lame lately."

She crossed her arms across her chest, her expression mocking. "You always pick the ones who look good but have no chance of winning. You always bet on the long shots, and you always lose."

You laughed, because you did tend to bet on the best looking boxer rather than the most skilled. You were a simple girl, you liked to drink in the sweaty bodies of the fighters in the Pit, men or women, releasing adrenaline charges with every punch, spitting and gasping. You found pleasure in premeditated violence, in the cheers and the boos, in the heat of a crowd committed to the spectacle. And perhaps it was because of that bad habit of yours that you bet on Vi last week, and Sevika didn’t take it well.

She huffed, her voice terse. "You picked Vi because she was hot, didn't you?"

"I picked her cause you despise her."

"Damn right, I do." She muttered through gritted teeth. "And you should too. Do you have any idea how many of my thugs she's beat up? Or the crap she caused Silco when she was in Piltover? That woman's always been a pain in my ass."

"You have a thing for problematic women." you shrugged, leaning to pour yourself more whiskey. "The difference is that some you hate, others you keep close."

Sevika rolled her eyes, craving a cigarette to deal with your tongue and insolent smile. "Causes involve problems." she said.

"And you seem to love both." you said.

"Oh, great." She muttered. "Another smartass back talker in my life... Just what I needed."

"Who's the other?"

"Jinx."

Her sigh said it all, Sevika was tired and her patience threatened to falter. Silco was her leader, she championed the cause, Zaun, yet Jinx figured as the constant component ruining her formula. You can't be a good soldier with a leader who is unable to see the flaws of his daughter, or at least, how he sees Jinx. "Sounds like you need to get something off your chest." you said.

She huffed. "I could write an encyclopaedia about everything wrong with that girl." She paused for a moment, her expression hardening once again. "She's Silco's blind spot. He can't see her for what she really is because he's too damn soft on her. And it's getting to the point where we can't cover for her anymore."

"He loves her." you said. "We all act like fools when it comes to love."

"What a joke. He's blinded by his affection for her. He's been babying her for years, giving her everything she wants and then some. And look where it's gotten us? The entire damn city is on the brink of a war because of her, because Silco can't bring himself to step away from his goddamn daughter and see her for what she really is."

Hell, she was mad. You put the glass on the coffee table, watching Sevika retrieve a cigarette from the pack in her pocket. Before she noticed, you were before her, lighting up with your zippo. "Jinx is a part of the game, want it or not. And it's up to you if you wanna keep up with Silco's whims or give up."

Her grey eyes locked on yours, releasing the smoke to the side.

"I'm loyal to Silco. I always have been, and I always will be. I believe in his cause, in his vision for Zaun." She stated. There was not a single hint of doubt on her words; when Sevika commits with a cause, she carries it to the end, no matter what.

That's what you admired of her.

"Then..." you said, grinning. "You need to let off some steam." your eyes flickering to the box on the coffee table.

Sevika thought you were joking. "You suggest I should take a stroll to the brothel while you stay here alone, a room away from the Shimmer reserves Silco keeps here?"

"I'll behave." you insisted.

"You better." She warned. "I don't know how Silco would feel if he came back to his supplies all gone because you had a goddamn party in his absence."

You smiled. "If I wanted to get high, I'd do it with my own money and merit, trust me." you stepped back, walking over to the couch. "It's up to you, Sev. But if I were you, I would go and try my new toy right away."

Sevika rolled her eyes.

"Dammit," she growled. "I can't believe I'm seriously considering this..."

Seeing you settle down on the couch, half drunk from the whiskey, Sevika actually considered taking a stroll around the brothel. She needed to release a pressure that only increased every time you were in front of her, with your stupid jokes and your arms and chest exposed, with your playful eyes and your insolent smile. You were a limit she forced herself to not cross. The woman grunted, picking up the red cape from the coat rack and putting it on.

"Take a bath while I'm gone, you smell like a workshop." she muttered, taking the box from the table

"Excuse me?" you protested, your expression one of mock-offence. "I smell just fine."

Sevika huffed a laugh at your protest, her eyes flickering over your figure. She had to admit she kind of enjoyed the way you smelt. A subtle yet intense medley of oil, grease and sweat - it was almost seductive.

"Don't pretend like I don't know the last time you took a bath was three days ago." She shot back, her voice full of sarcasm. "You smell like you live at a damn workshop."

Now you were offended. "I do live in a damn workshop."

"Don't make it obvious, then." she said, walking over the door. "I ain't paying your rent for you to smell like that. Bath." she added, leaving the room as she didn't just called you dirty.

At the slam of the door, you couldn't help but bury your nose in your armpit, letting out a groan. "Bath, yeah right," you muttered, getting up to grab one of Sevika's treats. "Next time I'll put less oil on that arm of hers…"

Sevika left the office with heavy steps, riled up by your entire presence. She was playing a dangerous game but she didn't intend to lose, not when you had become her most precious jewel but also the hardest to obtain. She wanted to possess you, in more ways than one, but she knew your limits and your whims, getting involved with you would not only be risky but directly novice to her plans. Letting you slip into her her will would only destroy the mettle she took years to build. She had to control herself.

Several glances fell upon Sevika as she entered The House of Pleasure, she hadn't been seen around these parts for weeks, and more than one of the ladies-in-waiting approached her doors hoping to be chosen by her. She was a client who paid well and made love well, there were no cons on her visits. "With Robin." the woman murmured to the owner, before being led to the largest room in the brothel.

Robin was waiting for her on the couch, wrapped in an olive-colored robe, playing with her black locks and looking as willing as ever. Sevika liked her, she had freckles and fleshy curves, she knew how to combat her bad mood.

"Sevika," the woman purred, standing up. "Long time no see. I missed you around here"

"Missing my attention or my money?" she huffed.

"Money lost importance a long time ago." she smiled, standing on her tiptoes to place a kiss on her client’s cheek before carefully removing her cape, revealing her mechanic arm. Sevika liked to be welcomed with a cigarette and Robin’s sweet perfume, to sit on the couch, manspreading, inhaling the smoke with her on her lap, giving her kisses on her neck and jaw.

However, Sevika saw you standing by the curtain, like an insistent ghost, reminding her that the woman on top her was not you. "What's in the box?" asked Robin then, leaving a kiss on the corner of Sevika's lips, her eyes flckering to the box sitting on the coffee table.

"A new toy." She muttered, her voice gruff.

Robin smiled. "You'd like us to try it?" she asked.

Sevika stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray that rested to her right, cupping the back of Robin's neck to begin a kiss that she hoped would erase you from her mind for a while. "Yeah." she said, against her lips, her hand gripping firmly the hooker's butt.

Sevika knew she was being foolish, that she was using Robin as a replacement for you, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The woman's moans, the feel of her body in her lap, it was all so familiar yet so different. She broke the kiss, her breathing ragged as she looked up at Robin with darkened eyes. "Get the toy.

Robin was helpful and elegant, she knew how to deliver an erotic show on each visit and please Sevika. She had already become accustomed to the rhythm and endurance of her client, her firm hands, her obscene kisses and subtle and not so subtle bites. The hooker opened the box, her smile was not faked when she saw the quality of the piece.

"Robe off, doll." said Sevika, her legs spreading with a latent confidence. Robin approached, an arm around her waist as Sevika pulled her closer. "You'll keep up with me, don't you?"

"Always..." whispered Robin, as Sevika watched the woman undress before her, trying to ignore the picture of your smile on the back of her mind.

Third round, Sevika seemed to hate you more and more as she discovered that the piece you had made for her was sensational.

Each thrust released a small charge of Shimmer, taking Sevika on a roller coaster of sensations, a constant upward slope that did nothing but shake her nerve fibers from head to toe. She had Robin on her stomach on the bed, hips and ass up, one hand firmly in her hair, another on her hip, as she thrusted into her relentlesslty, growling against the back of her neck in an obscene and not at all concealable symphony; the entire brothel knew that Sevika was back.

She had you to thank for this, you and your damn ingenuity. She would never admit it aloud, but gods how she hated you for this. For making her feel something, for making her lose control.

She knew she wouldn't survive another round as she leaned down, her breath ragged and hot in Robin's ear. "I might have... to take you home sometime."

"I'll go anywhere, as long as you fuck me this good." Robin purred, her body melting as Sevika leaned down to place kisses and bites on her shoulder. Sevika refused to open her eyes, she wanted to imagine you beneath her, your smell, your moans, your legs shaking with pleasure and begging for more. She held the woman's neck between her fingers, pressing her hips hard as a tickling sensation settled in her lower belly. Fuck, this was so good.

She felt herself melting, her veins burning, her heart pounding. Robin could see the purple glow in her client's eyes, they had grown deeper throughout rounds, and certainly her strength too. "I want you... so bad." She breathed, her voice gruff and breathless as she began speaking out her thoughts. "But I can't... fucking have."

"Shit... I-'m... cumming." whined Robin, which Sevika straightened up and pulled Robin's back against her chest, choking her harder with every deep, nerve-shaking thrust.

"Shut up," Sevika snapped, her voice guttural and her eyes still tightly shut. She didn't want to hear anyone's name but yours, any voice but yours. She wanted you beneath her, begging and pleading for more.

Sevika growled, her forehead suddenly resting against Robin's back, a firm hand between her legs, rubbing her clit as her brain corrected her moans and made them yours.

Gosh, she almost could smell the goddamn oil and ink.

The Shimmer was beginning to take over her wits, her veins heating up, her breath coming out in loud gasps as a second orgasm began to take over her. And Robin wouldn't shut her mouth, goddamn it!

"Shut. The fuck. Up." Sevika growled, covering Robin's mouth with her flesh hand. The woman whined against her palm, panting at the same time Sevika moaned into her neck, enjoying an unprecedented orgasm. "Fuck...! Take it well and nicely." she whispered against Robin's ear.

Robin fell back onto the mattress, her body marked by dozens of bites, a hand on her buttock, a hickey on her neck. Sevika was the only client who could afford to mark her girls, and Robin accepted it willingly. But today she had gone too far.

Sevika let out a pant, sitting up in bed, dizzy and shaky, as if she had run across all of Zaun. Her flesh hand trembled, she was a round away from overdose, she knew it. She took the strap off and tossed it somewhere in the room before searching for a cigarette on the nightstand. Just the bitter taste of the smoke managed to calm her down and return her from that portal she refused to cross.

"Something's up with you." mumbled Robin, barely catching her breath as she reached out to wet her throat with a glass of water.

Sevika sat on the couch, her cinnamon skin lightly beaded with sweat. Her entire body was still alert, sensitive and active, from her erect nipples to the thickened veins on her arm. The Shimmer was not quick to digest. "Nothing's up." she mumbled.

Robin propped on her elbow, reading Sevika's expression. She knew that one, has seen it on other clients, but it was the first time she saw it on Sevika's face; the expression of frustrated passion. "There is someone, isn't there?"

Sevika dragged on the cigarette, her eyes darting around the room before landing on the strap. Damn you. "Yeah, there's someone."

Robin's eyes softened. "Who...?" she asked softly.

"It doesn't matter," she muttered quietly, avoiding eye contact. "She's...off-limits."

As Robin was about to ask for details, there was a knock at the door. The hooker put on her robe, taking heavy steps towards the door after having dealt with Sevika's stamina for two hours. Sevika let out a cloud of smoke, pulling her head back as she thought about you, and a bitter sensation pooled on her stomach.

I'm wasting my damn time.

When Sevika had already put on her boxers, Robin turned to look at her, her expression suggesting urgency. She frowned. "What is it?"

"It's a message from the Last Drop," Robin said. "A girl overdosed in your office."

Suddenly the Shimmer effect seemed to be heightened, but it was actually raw, pure adrenaline.

No.

Sevika jumped off the couch, looking for her clothes as Robin stood there. "Sev?" she asked worried.

"Get me my damn cape," she said. "I gotta go."

To be continued...

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sonotpattismith · 2 days ago

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while i'm here writing songs for you

pairing: musician!choso x childhood friend!reader word count: 10.6k content: childhood friends to lovers, everyone knows they're in love except them, jealousy, mentions of virginity loss, dying on the grunge choso hill, lil angst, fluff, smut, 18+ inspired by: bless the telephone by labi siffre

“Hah! Your old man’s gonna kill me.”

Through shut eyes, a freshly eighteen-year-old Choso bit back an amused grin as best he could as to avoid disrupting his uncle’s work against his face.

“Nah, he caught Yuji at a casino this week, so I’m the golden boy for the foreseeable future while he’s grounded.” The boy muttered with a small smirk. He did feel for his little brother, often sneaking into his room with his console to entertain him for at least a short while in the midst of his prison sentence. Still, he had to admit that his timing was impeccable— giving the older sibling the perfect cushion to fall back to when Jin sees what his son had done to celebrate his birthday.

“Shit, yeah, I almost forgot.” Sukuna mumbled with a tickled shake of his head as he gripped at his nephew’s forehead in concentration. “Let the brat know I’ve still got his money whenever my boring ass brother lets him off house arrest.”

“Choso!”

The boy was eternally grateful that his uncle wasn’t as jumpy as he was, the man tightening his grip around his head in preparation for his jolt of surprise at the sudden shout.

“Ohhh, I’d be more scared of your girl than your dad, punk.”

You had burst through the doors of the tattoo parlor like a bat out of hell, your breath heaving slightly with the expended effort of hauling ass all the way over here from the restaurant you worked part time at. After receiving a cryptic picture from your best friend of him sat in his uncle’s tattoo chair with that deceivingly sheepish smile on his face, you could barely concentrate on taking orders correctly the remainder of your shift. Huffing out a sigh, you spotted those familiar, black combat boots hanging off the end of one of the leather seats.

Choso didn’t bother to correct Sukuna’s labeling of you as his girl, as it was proven a wasted effort after years of telling him that wasn’t the case. It also didn’t hurt that the title made his stomach flip excitedly each time he heard it.

“Oh my god.” You gaped once you finally reached the chair he was laid at. Half of the deep burgundy, nearly black mark that was being tattooed across his nose was already finished, and you could already picture the crash out Jin Itadori would have when he laid his eyes on his eldest son.

Cracking one eye open, the birthday boy took in the sight of you, cheeks still red and puffing from the run you took to get to him. Underneath that first layer of shock though, he could see the barely disguised wonder in your eyes as you assessed the situation at hand. Sukuna paused his ministrations to give his nephew a break, and so that you could see the progress.

“What the fuck! Your dad is gonna kill you.” You laughed incredulously, stepping closer to get a better look. Choso was just glad that his face was already tinged red from the irritation of the needle so you wouldn’t notice how he flushed insecurely under your gaze.

It was his main reasoning behind the oddly placed tattoo, actually. Since he was little he could remember his face growing noticeably hot over the tiniest of compliments, looks, or touches. Maybe it was far-fetched, but he hoped the imposing mark across his nose and cheeks would draw the attention away from that little quirk of his. It also didn’t hurt that the stencil looked cool as fuck.

“Not if you’re with me, he won’t.” Choso suggested with a sly, hopeful smile on his face, and you quickly shook your head at him. His face fell into that pout he had mastered to use specifically on you. “C’mon, he’ll take it easy on me if you’re there, please!”

“It was bad enough having to be your human shield when you got your nose pierced, Cho— no way.”

“I’ll let you check my back for blackheads.”

It fell silent for a moment as you contemplated his offer.

“You two are fuckin’ freaks.” Sukuna scoffed in disgust beside you before dragging his nephew’s chin back to face forward to continue working. You winced watching the needle begin to pierce at his already irritated skin, and you found yourself instinctively slipping your hand into his to squeeze it.

“Does it hurt?” You grimaced, leaning a bit closer to watch.

Choso almost said no, because, truthfully, he had gotten used to the pain about half an hour ago, but he took note of the way you clutched at his hand to comfort him. His lips twitched nervously at the feeling as he closed his eyes once again.

“Uh— yeah, kind of.” He mumbled, taking the opportunity to lace his fingers through yours under the guise of having something to squeeze onto when he was in pain. His uncle watched the interaction with a deadpan expression, knowing full well that the kid hadn’t so much as flinched once since he’d sat down. Shaking his head with a quiet tut, he barely tried to conceal his amused smirk.

“What about you, birthday girl, huh? You getting some celebratory ink too?” Sukuna questioned, wiping at the side of Choso’s nose that he’d just filled in. You cringed as you watched the tiniest amount of blood trickle at the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t know, I think Cho took all the balls in this friendship.” You admitted with a defeated smile.

“Don’t be such a wimp.” Your best friend teased with a careful smile as he stretched his lower half against the stiff chair. The black sweater he was wearing rode up a bit, practically commanding the attention of your wandering eyes. There was a barely noticeable trail of dark hair leading down into the band of his joggers, and your lips parted as you tried to recall when the fuck that had happened.

The last couple of months in your friendship with Choso had been… getting a little difficult. You two had been practically joined at the hip since you were six years old and yelled at a group of first graders for not singing happy birthday to him as well after having overheard his dad wishing him a happy birthday that morning during drop off. For a while, the two of you would tell people at school that you were twins even though it was so clearly not the case, but six-year-old you and Cho were sure that you had everyone convinced.

He had always been a bit of an introvert, so you had been the greatest birthday gift he could have ever hoped for. So, the awkward boy stuck to your side from that day on. Wherever one was, the other was never too far behind, and this would now be the twelfth birthday you two would be spending together.

Choso had certainly been… changing though from that lanky little boy who would sniffle and cry each time you two parted for the day (as if you didn’t attend the same school). He had grown taller, his voice had dropped a few octaves, and these days you were finding yourself worrying about the timeline of your best friend’s happy trail. For a while you blamed it on the raging hormones that came along with puberty, but you were eighteen now and weren’t sure how much longer that excuse would hold up in your denial-filled brain.

This was just one more way he was changing, you convinced yourself as you anxiously waited for him to unlock the front door of his house, his nose and cheeks still glistening with the antibiotic ointment Sukuna had slathered onto his fresh tattoo. He would have never had the courage to do something so bold even just a couple years ago. You had to admit though, the odd choice of tattoo did suit him, emphasizing those tired, chocolate eyes of his so nicely.

It was silent in the Itadori house as you two crept in, scanning the area apprehensively with each step you took. You clutched at the back of his shirt, tugging him to lean down as you whispered into his black-studded ear.

“I don’t think anyone’s—”

“Happy birthday you—” Poor, sweet Jin Itadori’s shout of celebration got stuck right in the back of his throat as his eyes fell upon his eldest son, a lit up birthday cake still clutched in his hands. He blinked a few times as though there was possibly just something in his eyes, but the wide-eyed expression of anxiety on the boy’s face gave him away. “What in god’s name did you do to your face? Was this your uncle? Did he tell you this was a good idea because I—”

“It was my idea.” Choso corrected, not-so-subtly attempting to nudge you forward as if you would soften the blow of his father’s wrath, who’s honey eyes fell frantically upon you.

“Did you know about this? Please tell me you two are punking me or something.”

“She didn’t know.” He quickly defended despite the fact that it would have been a lot easier to share the blame. Rubbing at the back of his neck, he attempted a light-hearted smile. “C’mon, don’t I look—”

“You look like you’re about to be stuck working in that tattoo shop with your uncle the rest of your life because no one is going to hire you with that thing!” The man had begun pacing the length of the kitchen with the cake still in tow, shaking his head in disbelief before stopping to gape at his son in horror once again. “You couldn’t have at least waited until after prom? Graduation? All your photos— ruined! Oh god, I think I’m going to pass out—”

“Calm down, it’s not that big a deal— not like I did anything illegal, y’know like sneaking into a casino while underaged.” Choso attempted to distract him with a sheepish smile, stepping forward to take the cake out of his hands lest he really pass out. With his now free hands, Jin was tearing at the roots of his hair as he continued his frantic pacing, mumbling about not reminding him of Yuji’s recent run in with the law. “Besides, I’m not going to prom anyway.”

Now it was your turn to gape at the freshly-tattooed birthday boy.

“You’re not?” You questioned, desperately trying not to sound as dejected as you felt. Though you two had never talked about it, you had just assumed that you’d be going to prom together given all the other important milestone events that you had completed hand in hand. Hell, you had even been putting off an offer from a fellow classmate of yours with the impression that Choso would be asking you to be his date— platonically, of course.

“You’re not?” Jin echoed in horror, finally looking up from where his face had been shoved into his hands. The man didn’t miss the disheartened expression that flashed across your face despite your best efforts to conceal it. “Why not? You’re only a high-schooler once, Choso, don’t be silly.”

Perhaps his nervous convincing was a bit overkill, but damn it how he was tired of watching his clearly love-sick son grow older and older without growing any wits about him on what was going on right under his nose. After hosting years worth of playdates for you two as mere children, to encouraging his son to be a little gentler with you as you began going through those awkward years that plagued every pre-teen girl, all the way to having to watch with barely concealed frustration at the way you two fell into one another’s ebb and flow so gracefully without any semblance of self-awareness— Jin was sure that he was more excited than the actual seniors for prom to come around, eager to force you two into the most obvious of couple’s poses for photos before sending you off for the night.

“Why would I go to prom? You know I hate that kind of stuff.” He explained obviously before turning to see the settling shock lingering on your face. It made him blink a few times, brows furrowing in confusion. “I-I mean, are you going?”

“Um…” You stammered over your words, trying to suppress the flush of embarrassment that you felt creeping up your neck for having assumed that Choso would ask you to prom. He felt his heart in his throat, breath hitching in slight anticipation, because he was sure he wouldn’t have too terrible of a time if it was you he was going with, but the last thing he wanted to do was make things weird by asking you to be his date. “Y-Yeah, I was planning to go. Geto had asked me a few days ago, so—”

“You’re going with Geto?” It felt like his heart had fallen straight through his ass, and it took every inch of restraint in him to not begin banging his head against the dry-wall in a bitter rage, because why did he not think to ask you first? “I didn’t know you two talked like that.”

Jin wasn’t sure how much more of this he could stand to watch before he wrung his son’s neck out. He cleared his throat in an attempt to subtly get Choso’s attention and hopefully send some sort of telepathic communication to him, but he was far too focused on this Geto character that you had mentioned to get his head out of his own ass.

“We don’t really, but… he asked me, and I wanted to go.”

My god, does she have to spell it out for him? Did I fail somewhere along the way as a father that my son turned out such an oblivious hard head? Just ask her— ask her!

“Oh. Well… that’s good, I guess.”

Jin hoped to god that as Choso blew out half the candles on you two’s shared birthday cake that he was wishing for some common sense.

You two did the best you could to shake off the sudden awkwardness following the conversation about prom. At the very least, you two still had to give each other your gifts, so you figured that would cushion the tension. You followed him up the familiar path to his room where you had had Yuji drop off his gift for you so it’d be here when you two got back, biting down an excited smile.

“No way.” Choso gaped just seconds after opening the door. Stepping in to get a closer look, he quickly turned on his heels to stare incredulously at you. “No way— this is too much. I-I can’t take this.”

There leaned upon the side of his bed was a sleek black electric guitar— one he’d been keening over since the acoustic guitar his dad had gotten him damn near nine years ago now had mysteriously snapped at the neck. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so mysterious because you did tell Choso that climbing up onto his shoulders to get the spider that had been terrorizing his ceiling wasn’t a good idea, because sure enough as soon as the wretched thing moved an inch, you jolted back, sending both of you tumbling to the ground with only his poor guitar to break the fall.

“After all the fake flirting I had to do to rack up enough tip money for it? You sure as hell can take it.”

“Please, I can’t—”

“You can, and you will.”

His face was burning with the guilt of how much you had spent on him, but the glimmering shine of the fresh guitar in his peripheral was helping to soften the blow a bit. The boy’s fingers were practically twitching with the anticipation of getting his hands on the thing, but he stopped himself. With a shy smile shot your way, he crouched down to pull out a box that had since been hiding under his bed. You smiled eagerly before sinking down to sit criss-crossed straight across from him, your present filling the small gap left between you.

He laughed affectionately as he watched you struggle to pry the box open, deciding to put you out of your misery after a minute or so and tearing the cardboard apart for you. The first thing that caught your eye was a vinyl record— your favorite album that you had introduced Choso to a few years back. It held a tender spot in both of your hearts for that very reason, and its lead single had consequently been the first song he learned to play on his guitar all those years ago.

Even all these years later he could still feel the sting in his fingers that had yet to callous protectively against the instrument’s strings as he stayed up until the sun rose that next morning trying to perfect each chord so that he could play it for you when you came over. It was choppy at best, what with all the scrapes on his irritated fingers and the lack of sleep, but the dewey eyed look on your face made him feel like he was Jimi fucking Hendrix, only fueling his motivation to get better— to impress you. So, despite how his fingers began to bleed, he played it for you over and over again until you were satisfied.

The sight of the nostalgic album nearly made you tear up pathetially, but you pulled yourself together to beam up at him with all the light of a thousand suns. He flushed under your gaze, quickly looking down to push the box toward you again with a jut of his chin.

“There’s still something in there.”

Tearing your eyes from him, you pushed back the flaps of the box to get a better look, finding a far too expensive looking record player sitting at the bottom of the large box that he’d definitely been begging neighbors to let him clean their car or mow their lawn in order to afford. Gasping softly, an incredulous laugh bubbled up your chest as you shifted onto your knees.

“Cho, this is so cool!” You guffawed, fingers struggling to wrangle the turntable out of the damned box to no avail. Unable to fight back his smile, he moved to brush your hands away and grab it for you, setting it down atop his black comforter. Running your fingers down the glossy box, you looked up at him with raised brows. “You’re gonna come back to my house to help me set it up, right?”

“You putting me to work on my birthday?” He quipped with a smirk as he fell back against the bed, hoisting up his new guitar to rest on his stomach.

“I’ll give you the day.” You caved in mock resignation as you laid beside him, head shifted to observe the way he fiddled with the tuners. “New face tattoo, new guitar— your rockstar look is really coming together.”

“Yeah?”

“For sure— just missing some guyliner.”

His nimble fingers paused against the strings, lips pursing as he peered over at you. It was dead silent as a slow smile spread across your face— because you could practically hear the wheels turning in his head. It was only a mere five minutes later that you found yourself digging your fingers into his jaw to stop him from flinching away each time the eyeliner pencil drew a little too close to his iris.

“Sit still, dude.” You grumbled, stepping closer between his spread legs as he sat impatiently in his desk chair.

Huffing out a sigh, he tried not to squirm at your burning proximity. Your tongue was creeping out the corner of your mouth in concentration, and the hand that had since been on his jaw moved to brush the hair away from his forehead. He could feel the warm puffs of your breath fanning against his face, driving his legs to squirm against the floor, which seemed to be the final straw for your patience.

Choso thought his heart would leap out of his chest when you planted yourself firmly on his lap, your legs hanging over the side of his chair. His arms quickly fell to his sides as though weighed down by bricks, dangling limply as his fingers flexed apprehensively. Gulping anxiously, he tried not to focus on the way the fat of your thighs squished against him.

“Close your eyes, Cho.” You murmured quietly as you began working on his lids. He did so swiftly, eager to not have to worry about where to place his gaze.

“So, um…” The boy cleared his throat, trying desperately to get his mind anywhere else before he created a problem that would be embarrassing for the both of you. “You’re really going to prom with Geto?”

“Mhm.” You hummed simply, chewing on your bottom lip as you smudged the freshly placed liner with the edge of your thumb. Perhaps you should have said more, but you weren’t sure that you trusted your voice if you were to speak right now.

“Do you… I mean are you—”

“Look up for me.”

Cursing himself mentally to just get it the fuck together, he tried again as he did as he was told, warm eyes glancing up at the ceiling.

“I just didn’t know you liked him is all.” He finally got out as his pulse pounded against the fingers you had pressed against his jaw and neck once again. “You’ve always told me about stuff like that.”

With a tickled smile, you leaned back in his lap to narrow your eyes knowingly at him. Upon noting your silence paired with the way you had stopped your work against his eyes, he finally looked back down, and you had to bite back the delighted gasp from seeing the way the smudged, dark liner paired so beautifully with the rest of him, making his already mysteriously dark eyes that much more sultry.

“You’re jealous, Choso!”

“What? N-No, I was just—”

“You are so jealous that I didn’t tell you about Geto.”

“I’m not jealous!”

“You are!”

“Am not!”

He was so jealous, Choso determined as he stared up at his ceiling the dreaded night of prom. His fingers idly strummed at the new guitar that laid across his stomach, trying to get his mind off of the fact that you hadn’t even bothered to send him a picture of your dress. It had always been him that was the first to see your new haircuts, fresh manicures, and imaginative outfits, and it was eating him alive that for the first time in twelve years, another guy was going to get to witness that little spin of display you did each time you wore something you felt particularly pretty in.

It didn’t help that he’d already gotten an earful from his dad when he got home from school that day about the fact that he still hadn’t righted his wrong and asked you instead. Jin must have gone on for at least an hour about what a shame it was that of all the experiences you two had shared, one as important to you as this one would be hand in hand with someone else. For the first time since the start of your long-winded friendship, he was sharing you with someone, and Choso was quickly realizing that he was selfish— and unashamedly so.

The event had already been going on for about two hours now, and he was coming to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t hear from you tonight. The familiar notes of that favorite song of yours that he had learned all those years ago filled his ears as he began absentmindedly plucking at the strings under his fingertips. Ever so slowly, the melody began shifting into one he’d never heard before, taking its own shape as it filled his melancholy room with feelings of you, and how much he’d taken it for granted all those times he had you laying beside him as he toyed with the notes, telling him what sounded nice and what he needed to work on.

The notes suddenly screeched awkwardly as his phone began buzzing in his back pocket, yanking him from his pensive sulking with its imposing tune. Blinking a few times, he frantically tossed his hips up to wrangle his phone out from behind him, the head of his guitar smacking him in the face with the sudden movements.

He shot up out of bed pathetically upon seeing your name lighting up his screen along with a picture he’d taken of the two of you in the mirror a few months ago when you tried to give him red highlights. There was dye nearly everywhere except where it was supposed to be, yet you still beamed up at the mirror despite the red streaks covering your face and arms, gloved hands still tangled into his hair.

Clearing his throat, he quickly swiped to answer the call before it went to voicemail.

“Did someone spike the punch or—”

“Choso?” Your voice sounded hushed, but it still wavered ever-so-slightly against the sound of music blaring in the distance. The smile quickly fell from his face. “Do you think you could… come get me?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. What’s going on?” He was barrelling through his hectic room to find any pair of shoes to shove on, nearly tripping over himself as he hopped toward the front door on one foot.

“Um… nothing, I just… really wanna go home.”

There wasn’t even the tiniest part of him that was convinced, but that would just have to be a conversation for later because there was a timid vulnerability and tremor in your sweet voice that he’d never heard before. Snatching his dad’s keys from the hook by the door, he was requesting your location before racing down the street. There was a slight possibility that he had run more than a few red lights on his way to the hotel that was hosting your school’s prom in the banquet hall. The car had barely come to a stop when he was flinging the door open to rush toward the bench you were sitting at out front.

“What are you doing out here by yourself? Where’s Geto?”

But your eyes were fluttering around you cautiously, scoping the surrounding area with a shake of your head as your best friend pulled you up by your arm.

“Please, can we just go? I don’t—”

“Right— yeah, okay, come on.”

It was silent on the ride home save for your hushed request that he take you back to his house for the night instead. Cautionary side long glances were continuously tossed your way throughout the drive, and you could practically feel the concerned curiosity eating alive at him as your body faced the passenger side door. You were eternally grateful for the fact that the other two residents of the Itadori household had already turned in for the night when you two arrived.

Choso flipped the lights on in his room, carefully inching the door of his room closed so as not to wake anyone up. When he turned, he was finally able to get his first good look at you, and he was absolutely bursting at the seams to know what Geto must have done to fuck up a night with you as his date looking as ethereal as you did standing in the middle of his room.

You were sighing dejectedly as you tugged open his drawers to fish out something to change into, but Choso was still stuck by the door, eyes taking in each detail of your glittering makeup and intricately lined lips.

“You…” His words drifted as you turned your back toward him so he’d undo your zipper. “You look beautiful.”

You paused, head slowly turning to look over your shoulder at him with misty eyes.

“Thanks, Cho.”

Quickly working your zipper down, he turned to face the door as you stepped out of your dress to shrug on a pair of his sweatpants and a crewneck. His leg swayed anxiously while he listened to the gentle rustling of clothes behind him.

“Did… did something happen?”

Upon hearing the subtle creak of his bed as you sank down onto it, he carefully turned around. The bed dipped by your head where he sat himself, and you felt him absentmindedly begin pulling the myriad of pins from your hair. Flushing red, you covered your face with your hands as you recalled how your night had progressed, not caring how you were smudging your makeup against your hands.

“He… he just wanted to have sex with me.”

Choso felt his heart crack at your shaky explanation, the guilt he had been experiencing for not having asked you to prom himself returning tenfold. The bobby pin in his grasp bent between his fingers as he thought about how Geto had ruined what was meant to be a special night for you.

“That guy’s a loser, he’ll probably die a virgin anyway.” He attempted to lighten the mood with a hesitant, breathy laugh, but it died in his throat when you slowly sat up to look at him, your now loose hair falling messily in your face and tears brimming your eyes. His stomach dropped at the mortified expression scrunching up your typically cheerful face, and he gulped down the bile rising in his throat. “Oh.”

A sob racked your body as you moved to curl into a tight ball, your head resting against his tense thighs. His hands hovered over you uncertainly before slowly coming down to brush at the hair invading your face.

“So, you…” He couldn’t even bring himself to say it, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

“I feel like an idiot.” You cried, fisting at his pajama pants. “I stopped him right after he— he put it… in, but—”

“It’s okay.” Choso cut off your embarrassed rambles, pulling you up to wrap you in a tight embrace. He wasn’t sure if he could handle listening to the details. “Did he stop when you asked him to?”

A heavy sigh of relief left him when you nodded against his shoulder. It was silent for a few minutes, your soft cries soaking into the fabric of his tattered, band t-shirt.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered dejectedly, trying desperately to get the image out of his head of you underneath of Geto with your makeup done up so prettily for someone who didn’t deserve it. He thought about how none of it would have happened had he just grown a pair. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to prom. I should’ve taken you, none of this would have—”

“It’s not your fault.” You interrupted, finally lifting your head from where it had burrowed into his neck to look up at him, your lip still trembling as your once pristine makeup smeared down your red cheeks.

As you stared into his dewey, warm eyes, you allowed your thoughts to wander to how your night might have ended had Choso been your date, how you had stopped Geto after the gruelling realization hit you that no hands felt as right against your skin without the gruffness of guitar-string callouses. Your stomach churned nervously, and you laid back down against his lap, unable to face him as the words came tumbling from your lips.

“I wish it would have been you, Cho.”

Choso’s heart sputtered to an abrupt halt— at least that’s what it felt like as your words sunk in. Slowly, he laid back against his pillow, careful not to jostle you in your spot against his thighs. Staring up at the ceiling, his mouth opened and closed a few times.

“Y-You mean as a prom date, right?” The question came out apprehensively, because, deep down, you both already knew the answer. You closed your eyes nonetheless, a final tear slipping down your cheek.

“Yeah, as a prom date.” Your lie came out barely a whisper as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I wish it would’ve been me too. Y’know, your… prom date.”

It was the first time both of you knew that something had shifted in your relationship, though neither of you were brave enough to mention it the next morning when you woke.

That fateful night was two years ago now, and you had had ample time to come to the realization that perhaps you should have been more upfront with him, because Choso was now hundreds of miles away at an arts school with only a telephone keeping you two together.

It had been a difficult conversation with shifting eyes and unnecessarily guilty frowns, but when your best friend had broken the news to you that he’d been accepted into a different university than the one you’d be attending, you couldn’t have been happier that he was pursuing his passion for music. When he dropped the bomb that it was nearly six hours away— that was a tougher pill to swallow.

You two had been doing the best you could though— calling each other every other night and texting in between to make sure to keep up to date on everything university life had to offer you. Still, things would get busy sometimes, what with Choso’s occasional shows that he’d been playing with a local band in his college town, and your downright diabolical class and exam schedule. Things certainly weren’t the same anymore, but you desperately tried to cling onto him.

Additionally, in your absence Choso was reminded of just how much of a clutch you had been for him. He had never been the best at talking to others, relating to the types of casual niceties that seemed to connect people, but he had never had to until now because you had always been just enough for him. Sure, he had warmed up enough to his bandmates, but it was never the same— not when he sat alone in his room at night strumming melodies he only wished he would have played for you earlier when he still had the chance to do something about these things he was feeling.

On your end of the world, it certainly didn’t help that his band had grown a modest following, and it seemed that for the first time, the rest of the world was also beginning to notice Choso.

Choso, the one boys and girls alike used to veer away from in the halls at school because of his terrifyingly blunt, resting bitch face.

Choso, the one who spent the majority of highschool with limbs that seemed too long for his body until he grew into his own.

Choso, the one who, unless you were beside him, often took jokes too literally and ended up embarrassing himself each time he opened his mouth.

Choso, the one who you had stuck beside throughout each awkward phase and experimental hairstyle until he landed on the shag cut that suited him so nicely.

Choso, the one who had been receiving the nastiest of thirst comments under each of his band’s social media posts as the rest of the world caught onto what you had known all along.

And, god, how it stung to scroll through each one, but it was like you couldn’t look away, wondering with each username if he was enjoying all the new attention he was getting. You wondered how far he had leaned into this rockstar persona he had been dreaming of his whole life, if he snuck girls backstage and pocketed their bras as evidence of his conquests.

I mean, the guy had gone damn near his entire life without so much as a second glance from any girl he’d come in contact with— except for you, of course, and you underestimated just how deep his loyalty ran and how much he remembered who it was that had been with him through it all.

So, to hell with every creatively intricate thirst comment under photos that even had you contemplating starting a burner account to appreciate with the masses, none of them mattered despite all the nights you’d spent chewing at your fingernails with thoughts of what he might be up to. Each fan account could burn in hell though— because it was you he called as soon as he’d received the news that his band would be touring, opening for an indie band that you two had actually been fans of for quite some time.

“I wanna fly you out.” Choso insisted breathlessly, still winded from the sheer velocity at which he raced for his phone upon hearing the news. It made your heart stutter, because it had been now going on three years since you last saw him, your schedules never having seemed to line up just right. There were a few times when you had contemplated flying out to surprise him at one of his local, bar shows, but with your building mountain of school work, you’d had little to no time to get a job that could afford you the extra change at the end of each month to buy a plane ticket. At your silence, he huffed, and you could practically hear that damned pout from over the phone. “C’mon, our birthday is coming up. We used to spend all our birthdays together.”

Smiling wistfully at the memories of how easy you two once had it, you shook your head.

“Well that was before you became some heart-throb rock star, Cho.” You teased, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you wondered if he still blushed so easily at little comments like that, and, if so, what shade his cheeks were at the moment.

“How am I supposed to be a rock star with no groupies? That’s just lame.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m sure you have a long list of contenders waiting in line. Have you been checking your instagram comments lately?”

This made him pause, the tiniest of knowing smiles creeping onto his face.

“No, but it sounds like you have.”

For once, it was you flushing that burning shade of red that once graced his cheeks so frequently, and you wondered when he’d begun reciprocating your teasing banter instead of just stammering through his responses while trying not to look you in the eyes. Shaking his head with a nearly silent chuckle, he decided to put you out of your misery, clutching his phone tighter against his ears.

“Let me fly you out, please? I know you’ve gotta break coming up. I wanna see you.”

So just three months later, though truthfully it felt like a year as you and Choso counted down the days until you would see each other again, you were on a flight courtesy of his now modest earnings from his band. And sure, it was no fancy seat with the luxury accommodations he just knew you deserved, but he felt so proud to know that he was able to do something for you. He had been waiting at the airport nearly two hours before your flight was actually supposed to land, flowers clutched in his clammy hands as he checked the time repeatedly.

Much to his frustration, your flight kept getting delayed, and, after the third push back, he had to begrudgingly resign himself to the fact that he wouldn’t get to be there when you landed, having to get back for sound check for the show tonight. After sending a long winded explanation text, he insisted that you text him as soon as you land as well as as soon as you got to the hotel and as soon as you made it to the venue, and— well, you got the point.

With all the sudden delays, you only had time to drop your luggage off at the front desk of the hotel, who assured you they’d get it to your room for you before you had to haul ass to the venue before you missed any second of Choso’s band opening. He had given your name to security, who had your pass waiting for you when you arrived and quickly led you toward a less crowded section reserved for the talents’ guests.

You were slightly winded from the nonstop moving you had been doing since you woke up this morning, but even with how spent you felt, you weren’t sure anything could have woken you up faster than the sight of your best friend on that stage after three years of not seeing him. Sure, the two of you had been keeping up with pictures and the occasional video call, but none of it did him justice— not with the way the boy you once knew had grown into such a… man.

The once lanky limbs that hung awkwardly at his sides had certainly filled out, emphasized nicely by the gaping muscle shirt he currently had on. His biceps flexed with each rip of his guitar as his grown out hair fell into his chiseled face. To your surprise, he had a mic situated in front of him and was occasionally offering back-up vocals that you were straining with everything in you to pinpoint amongst the rest of the music.

His eyes swept across the designated guest area, and you and your poor, weak heart nearly gave out upon realizing that he had begun lining them just as you did for him all those years ago, smudged out across his lids and adding a spine-tingling depth as they spotted you in the crowd. That earth-shattering smile lit up his face as he took in the sight of you looking up at him, because none of this success and fulfillment of lifelong dreams felt nearly as sweet without you being in the audience for him to impress.

Choso was breath-taking on that stage, commanding it with a confidence you had never seen on him before. It was a blur as the set went on, your shouting out the lyrics to the songs of theirs that you’d kept up with over the year, your already spent body expending the fumes of energy it had left to thrash around to the eardrum-crushing beat.

You found yourself anxiously checking your phone when his band finished their set and disappeared backstage, not knowing if you were going to have to wait until the end of the show to see him. Thinking back to the phone conversation you two had had months prior, and how you really were starting to feel like his groupie. The thought made you smile in amusement, shoving your phone back into your pocket as the main band came out on stage.

Your questions were answered just one song in when a pair of nearly steaming, sweat clung arms wrapped around your shoulders and chest from behind, squeezing you into an equally sweaty chest.

“Ew, Cho, get off! You’re soaked!” You tried to sound disgusted, but your delighted laugh deceived you, because you were sure that he could have been covered head to toe in blood right now and you’d still allow him to latch onto you as he was doing so ardently.

“What happened to being my groupie?” He shouted over the blasting music, surprising you when his lips met your cheek in a sloppy kiss. Even he wasn’t sure where he’d worked up the gall to kiss you, but maybe it was the fact that he’d spent the last three years regretting his inaction, and he’d be damned if he was going to let you board that flight back home without at least trying.

Hoping he didn’t see the way your cheeks flushed at the little stunt, you took note of the fact that he had yet to release you.

“Your groupie is gonna need a few drinks if she has to deal with your stench for the next hour.”

In typical Choso fashion, he quickly obliged your request, planting yet another kiss against your temple before disappearing in the blur of security and venue workers to find you something to drink. You felt like your head was spinning with his sudden forward shift in behavior, but you chalked it up to the fact that you two hadn’t seen each other in so long.

So, you didn’t question it when he came back with two vodka Red Bulls and continued to cling onto you the remainder of the show. He hoisted you up on his back when the crowd around you began to grow so you could get a better view of the band and didn’t care that you were screaming along to the songs right into his ear because you were finally here with him, and he could buy you drinks and give you front row seats to one of your favorite bands, and for once he thought that maybe he was brave enough to admit that he wanted something more with you after all these years of convincing himself that there was nothing he could offer you that’d be worth your while.

He was riding on the high of your giddy smile the entire taxi ride back to the hotel, unable to wipe that lovesick grin off of his face even when you asked him if there was something on your face that was warranting all the staring.

“I’m just gonna shower really quick, and then I’ll come to your room so we can order some food, ‘kay?” You explained while fishing out the room key that you’d received from the front desk earlier that day.

Choso’s brows furrowed as he pushed the respective button on the elevator and adjusted his guitar case over his shoulder.

“What do you mean? We’re going to the same room.”

Looking up from the inside of your bag, you stared at him with a slightly dumbfounded expression.

“You only booked one room?” You questioned with a fluttering gaze.

“We’ve always shared a room.” He explained obviously, making his way down the hall once the elevator doors opened. You could hardly argue with him on that logic, because you two had been sharing a room, hell— sharing a bed since you were kids. As you followed close behind him, butterflies churning in your stomach, you came to the conclusion that Choso had neglected to account for the fact that you two weren’t kids anymore.

Still, he had flown you all this way, and you had missed the endless nights you two would spend together watching horror movies until Jin would stumble into the room, exasperated as he asked you two to please turn down the volume or, better yet, watch anything else that didn’t have him jolting awake from the incessant sounds of blood-curdling screams emanating from his son’s room at ungodly hours of the night. Bonus points if you two had snuck Yuji in to watch them with you and had to shove him under the bed until their dad left the room lest he find out his youngest was watching movies far too mature for his age.

Yuji and Jin weren’t there to interrupt though, and you were currently hyping yourself up in the bathroom mirror to go out and spend the night with the man you’d known for fifteen years now. Looking down at yourself, you cursed at your choice of sleep wear that you’d clearly chosen before you knew Choso would be sleeping beside you. His old Metallica t-shirt had tiny holes in the shoulders and was discolored from so many years of wash cycles, but it was just so perfectly worn in, and it was a little reminder of him each time you went to sleep.

The tattered hem fell just above your mid-thigh, and you were once again punching yourself in the leg because why would you not pack any pajama shorts? Pants? A longer shirt? Literally anything other than your fucking jeans that you’d rather bear the humiliation for than wear to bed? Huffing out a final sigh, you hung up your towel before exiting the steam-filled bathroom outwardly displaying far more confidence than was actually present in your muddled mind at the moment.

“Shower’s open, Cho.” You informed with your eyes cast downward, shoving your dirty clothes into the respective section of your suitcase.

He looked up from the room service menu he’d been studying for the past few minutes, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest at the sight of your bare thighs that still glistened from whatever lotion you had slathered on after your shower, and oh god was that his shirt? His brain was short-circuiting on the spot, and he was so grateful that he was jumping into the shower now, knowing that knob was about to be turned to the coldest setting he could manage.

You sighed in quiet relief when the bathroom door shut behind him, thanking your lucky stars that he hadn’t mentioned anything about your choice of sleepwear— or lack thereof, hoping it meant that he didn’t notice.

Finally allowing some of the tension to fall from your shoulders, you looked around the slightly bougie hotel room, smiling at the sight of his guitar leaning against the wall. Taking the opportunity to be a little nosy for nostalgia’s sake, you unzipped the case and carefully pulled the beloved instrument out. It was hardly recognizable now, what with all the decals and stickers he’d adorned it with over the years, but it was that same electric guitar you had scraped up all your tip money to buy for him.

Humming fondly, you sat crisscrossed in the middle of the plush bed to fiddle with the strings, recalling all the nights Choso had spent desperately trying to teach you how to play, but you never could make good on his diligent efforts. You could only vaguely recall the chords to that first song he’d ever learned to play, the one you’d watched him strum what must have been hundreds of times for you. Pursing your lip, you tried to angle your fingers just right along the neck as you dug into the far corners of your memory.

“Your hand is too far up the neck.”

In your fierce concentration, you hadn’t even heard Choso exiting the bathroom. Not looking up at him lest you break your focus, you shifted your hand as he’d instructed.

“Here?”

He tutted softly, though you could practically hear the fond amusement oozing from him. After a moment, you felt the bed dip behind you, and your breath hitched as you felt his chest press against your back, and you suddenly didn’t feel as embarrassed at your lack of clothing since he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on following his shower. His hands soon came up to close around yours, guiding them to the proper placement.

“Try now.” He instructed softly, tucking his chin over your shoulder to watch your movements.

Trying to control the way your fingers trembled with the feeling of the muscles he never used to have pressed right up against you, you tried again. When he let out a quiet hum of disapproval, you didn’t have the chance to ask what you had done wrong before he was scooching you back to sit in his lap for better access to the instrument.

“You’ve gotta spread out your fingers a little more.” Choso’s tips were falling on deaf ears, because his scent was enveloping you like a warm blanket, he was so warm pressed right up against you, and his cheek was brushing against yours as he adjusted your fingers.

As he had been telling himself since he saw you in the audience earlier for the first time in three years, he wasn’t that awkward boy anymore who was too scared to be honest with himself, and he knew better than to believe that the flush in your cheeks right now was from your shower. Smiling softly, he eased up his hands as you began to get the hang of it, only occasionally reaching up to correct your placements. You gradually allowed yourself to relax against him, your shoulders drifting back to fall along his broad chest.

“Do you ever think about that night of prom?” Out of all the ways he could have eased into this conversation, he wasn’t sure why that was what had come out of his mouth, but he was relieved when you scoffed out a light laugh.

“You mean the night I lost my virginity to Suguru Geto?” You shook your head at the once damn near traumatic memory, a bitter smile gracing your lips. “I try not to.”

It was silent for a moment, and just as he thought you had all but forgotten what you had said to him that night, you spoke up hesitantly.

“Do you? Y’know— think about it?”

“All the time.”

Your fingers paused against the strings, but a hushed whisper in your ear to keep playing had you jolting back into action, but your subtle squirming against his lap gave you away.

“Why the hell would you be thinking about that?” You mumbled, keeping your voice low as you desperately tried to maintain your composure.

“Because I can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if it was me instead.”

His hand came up to tighten your grip around the neck of the guitar that had loosened with the implications of his words, and you heard those familiar words falling from your lips just as they had from his three years ago.

“You mean as my prom date, right, Cho?”

His head shifted ever so slightly, and you shivered as his nose grazed against your temple. The hand that had been guiding your fingers over the strings drifted down to ghost over your bare thigh.

“Yeah, as your prom date.” He lied, just as you had that night. The pads of his fingers dug into the fat of your thigh momentarily, giving you the opportunity to push him away should he have been reading all the signs wrong. You didn’t though, you only held back the softest of whimpers when the metaphorical green light prompted him to run his hand further up, brushing back your already maddeningly ridden up shirt. “I think about how much of an idiot he was, what I would’ve done different.”

The way your comparably smaller frame was expanding and deflating against him in tandem with your labored breaths was making it hard for him to think, and he was sure his body was acting purely on autopilot.

“Like what?” You dared to whisper, not even quite sure that you were ready to hear his answer, but oh was he willing to give it to you.

“I would’ve told you how pretty you looked that night— because you did. You looked like an angel.” Choso rasped out against your ear, and his fingers were curling around the warmth of your inner thigh, just barely grazing against your rapidly heating core. Your fingers stuttered once again against the strings, and his other hand quickly came up to grip at the column of your neck, pressing you back against him. “Keep playing for me, angel.”

And you tried, hands trembling as they fumbled to find the right chords again.

“Did he touch you like this before he ruined your night?”

“No!” You gasped out desperately, arching against him as he pushed your panties to the side to collect the pooling slick at your entrance, using it to aid in the tentative circles he began working against your clit. “H-He didn’t touch me at all— ah!”

With a vexed tut of disapproval, Choso’s fingers dipped down to plunge into your sopping heat. His movements were choppy, and it was clear that he wasn’t sure what exactly you would like, but his focused gaze on your side profile as he studied each of your reactions told you that he was going to figure it the fuck out.

“I would have taken the time for you— I would’ve made sure you were ready.” His regrets were spilling past his frantic lips in a manner teetering on a whine as your head fell back against his shoulder. “Keep playing.”

“I can’t— I can’t, Cho.” You cried deliriously as his fingers began curling up in response to your frantic reaction. You were soaking through the underwear that had been pushed haphazardly to the side, and if you were more lucid you would have been embarrassed at the way it pooled onto the sheets below you.

At once, he had released the firm grip he had on your neck to push his guitar off the bed.

“Then come up here and let me show you how I would have taken care of you.”

Choso, with his eagerness to please and this newfound Herculean strength of his, didn’t give you the chance to comply with his request, because he was ripping at your flimsy underwear and shifting you around to face him. It was enough to give you whiplash, but the bruising grip he had around your waist assured that your balance wouldn’t fail you as he laid back against the unsuspecting hotel sheets and yanked you up to hover over his crazed face.

“Choso, y-you don’t have to—”

“I want to.” He pleaded, his lips glistening with an anticipatory drool as those puppy-dog eyes of his locked onto your core, and he was once again reminded of the fact that Suguru Geto had to be the dumbest man on this fucking planet. Craning his neck up, he couldn’t help himself as he dragged his hot tongue up the length of your folds, his strangled moan vibrating against you. “Mmph, sit— please.”

Leave it to Choso to not forget about his manners as he begged you to suffocate him between your trembling thighs. You complied, moving ever-so-slowly to lower yourself against him before he dug his fingers into your thighs and made you sit. Hunching forward, your forehead fell against the plush headboard with a choked cry as he all but unhinged his jaw around your core.

He watched through dazed eyes at the way your face crumpled with each symphony of pleasure that slipped past your bitten lips. There was no sense in dwelling on the past now, but he couldn’t help but feel so utterly idiotic for having been so blind all this time. It had always been there— in the lingering touches and the intimacy of trust that had forged between you two over fifteen years of falling back on one another.

Choso’s eyes rolled back as you rolled your hips against his tongue, momentarily blocking any passage of air through his mouth and nose, but, even with the clenching in his lungs that told him that he needed to breathe paired with the ringing in his ears, he thought he’d much rather have your weeping pleasure as the cause of death on his obituary, because any life where he hindered that impending high you were cravenly grinding toward wasn’t a life worth living.

His tongue dipped into your entrance for an exasperatingly brief tour before its pointed tip was dancing up to swoop under the hood of your already painfully sensitive clit. You squeaked out a pitched moan, nearly tumbling down if one of his hands hadn’t shot up to press against your sternum to keep you upright. A choked sob of pleasure shook your shoulders, and your hand flew down to tangle into the very haircut he maintained for so long just because you said it looked cute on him.

There was a sharp sting on his scalp as you yanked at the roots, the subtle pain at the hands of you nearly sending him to an early grave as his hips bucked up against the air. He was only met by the infuriatingly gentle friction of his sweatpants brushing against his leaking tip, but you were crying out his name and using him so sweetly with every craven thrust of your hips, and it was enough for him after all the sleepless nights he’d spent wishing he could have changed the past.

Evidence of you was dripping grotesquely down his face, dragging as far up as his nose that glistened proudly in the wake of your sloppy thrusts against him. His eyes were barely open by the time you timidly glanced down at him, half-lidded to match the dopey smile you felt morphing against your folds.

“Stop looking at me like that.” You murmured through burning cheeks as he leaned you back to sit on his chest.

“I’ve waited fifteen years to look at you like this.” His words were damn near slurred, but the sentiment remained the same. Brushing the dishevled hair from his forehead, you slid down slowly to straddle his waist, gasping tenderly at the feeling of his abs brushing against your sensitive clit, though your eyes never once left his.

With wanton eyes drifting down his pink-tinted face, his eyes drifted shut as he leaned up to meet the kiss he was sure he was finally about to get, but it instead landed tenderly on his forehead. A warmth spread down his spine, making his fingers curl tighter around your waist.

“Put me out of my misery already.” Choso whispered, but his actions deceived him as he reached up to keep you pressed against his forehead. Just as you slipped out of his grasp, lips dragging down the bridge of his nose until they ghosted over his. With a clouded gaze, he whispered against your lips, “Did he tell you he loved you?”

With a delirious shake of your head, you crashed through the tiniest of barriers that had been left between you.

“I love you.” He mumbled desperately against your kiss, hands sneaking up under your baggy shirt to graze along your spine. “More than just a— ah— a prom date. I love you.”

“I love you, too— more than just a friend.” You confirmed as you snuck your hand down between you to creep into his waistband.

He flinched away from you with a quick, hissing breath, reaching down to grip at your hand in record timing. Pulling away from him with a start, you blinked down owlishly at him.

“Oh— I-I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted to…”

“I do!” He sat up faster than you could blink to miss it. With that signature flush of his cheeks, he cast his gaze to the side. “Just… give me a little bit, okay?”

Raising a brow at his sudden timidness, you decided not to make it known that you had already felt the tacky wet splotch currently making a mess of his sweatpants. Saving him the wallowing self-pity you just knew he’d fall into for the rest of the night, you opted to lay beside him, tracing the tattoo that lined his nose absentmindedly as he looked anywhere but you. With a soft laugh, he finally turned his head to face you again after a moment of silence, smiling sheepishly down at you.

“Happy birthday, angel.”

Glancing over at the bedside clock, you noted with a cacooning warmth that it read 12:02 AM.

“Happy birthday, Cho.”

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justwonder113 · 2 days ago

Text

Seo Changbin can't multitask

Summary: It's surely magical how at one glance just a regular day in your life can become one of the most memorable and special days in your life given you're sharing it with a special person. It's especially interesting when everything starts by you asking your boyfriend to do a TikTok challenge to test his multitasking skills. Warnings: Reader is gender neutral. Consumption of alcohol. A few kiss scenes. Changbin being a sweetheart. It's mostly just fluff, but if I missed anything please tell me. Reader being whipped(who wouldn't honestly!). Reader realizing they are in love. Reader being worried for a minute about confessing. Just pure fluff. A/N- this is inspired by this lovely request I have received. Sorry it took me this long to write this, I couldn't really make up my mind on how to write this so I rewrote this couple of times. I really hope you will like it. I really loved writing this so I hope you will enjoy reading this. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated, I would love to hear your thoughts^^ Word count: 3k

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Masterilist

If you're curious this is the TikTok challenge I am refering to.

Growing up you imagined that falling in love would be something really magical, something really majestic and fairytale like. Maybe something out of Disney movie! Especially saying your first I love yous! You always thought you would exchange them with your partner in the most romantic situation ever. Not in a million years would you think that you would realize that you were in love on a random Tuesday doing a random challenge you saw on TikTok with your boyfriend.

It was a most casual day, nothing special had actually happened. The most exciting thing was that Changbin was supposed to come over later in the evening. Naturally you were more than excited to see him, due to your busy schedules you didn’t get to see each other that much. So it was safe to say you missed him quite a lot.

You were also really excited to try this new challenge with him. It was no news that Changbin couldn’t multitask. So when you saw a challenge where basically men had to cut out different shapes on colorful papers while telling a story you just knew you just had to try it on your boyfriend.

“Baby I’m here!” Hearing Changbin’s booming voice immediately put a smile on your face. How was is possible that even being in his presence immediately put a smile on your face.

“I’m in the kitchen baby!” - You yelled out as you continued stirring the pasta sauce. Changbin had said earlier that he was craving some. So you went out to make some, you even bought some white wine to go with it.

“It smells so good baby.” Changbin mused as he hugged you from the back.

“It will be ready in two minutes baby, can you help me serve the table before that? And open up the wine please? It’s on the counter.” You asked, but not before kissing him on his cheek.

“Of course baby!” Changbin squeezed you one last time before getting to work. He was so cute waddling around carefully not to disturb you as you finished up the pasta. It was something else watching him do something simple yet domestic. You couldn’t explain it but it really warmed up your heart. Also it kind of amazed you how he just knew where everything was, even the wine opener. You didn’t even remember most of the time where you put it. You might wonder what the big deal was but it just showed how close you were. Thinking about it you also knew his house like the back of your hand. You knew where he put everything and all. You hadn’t been dating that long so it was an interesting observation of how well you two actually knew each other.

“I’m all done baby! He cheered as you finally finished carefully putting pasta on the plate. You were sure he would like it, it smelled just amazing. Youwere glad you really put your heart into it.

Walking to the table with two plates you couldn’t help but smile at the careful but the still a bit messy way he had set the table.

Changbin had already poured the wine too and everything, he even had bought some cake and sweets with him and set them up too. It was another endearing thing about him how he never came at your house without bringing you something.

“Baby!” You couldn’t help but jump a little when he cheered quite loudly. He immediately got up from his chair and walked over to you talking your hands in his. What baffled you the most is when he got on his knee all dramatically.

“What are you doing Bin?” You asked as you tried to control your giggling at his silly antics.

“What I’m doing? I will tell you what I’m doing! I am going to kiss the magical hands of my baby for making something this delicious!” And to make his point more apparent he leaned in and covered your hands in kisses, not missing a single knuckle.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, he was so sweet and silly. “You’re so cute Binnie.” Leaning in you connected your lips in a short but loving kiss. “I’m taking you like my cooking.”

Changbin smiled and pecked you softly. “I’m saying that I’m regretting not buying a ring for you. So what if we have been only dating for two months.”

Smiling you shook your head. ”My cooking can not be that good!”

“First of all how dare you it’s top tier, second of all even if it wasn’t, the fact that you got out of your way to do something for me speaks volumes about how kind and loving you are. As I’m saying marriage material.” God you loved this man.

Oh.

You were in love.

You loved Seo Changbin.

As if happy you finally realized it your heart felt like it doubled in size, it just bloomed in joy. You felt like you could yell it on top of your lungs, to let everyone know!

You gazed into his loving eyes, full of light and joy, sparkling oh so beautifully.

Suddenly you were rendered speechless. Your pulse quickened, your breath fastened, hands felt more clammy. You just couldn’t muster up anything to say. It just baffled you how nervous you got in a second. It was Changbin! The person you you felt most comfortable and safe with. Why couldn’t you say you loved him? You two had been dating for two months and he told you that he would marry you, why couldn’t you say something way more simple? Why did you feel so nervous now? Why couldn’t you tell him that you love him? This felt like such a right time too. Maybe you should think over your emotions first. Not that you needed any thinking about it. As soon as you realized everything just clicked together, like it was the most natural thing to be in love with him.

Taking a deep breath you forced yourself to say something. “All in it’s time okay baby?” Leaning in you gently held his face and kissed him, more passionately and now. If you couldn’t voice just yet how you felt you would try to show your feelings through the kiss.

Changbin gladly reciprocated, standing up slowly he also held onto your cheeks to bring you closer and deepen the kiss.

Everything seemed to disappear. It was only you and Changbin. Nothing else, not that it mattered anyway when you two had each other.

You only remembered about the forgotten dinner when you leaned back for some air.

“Baby the food will get cold.” You giggled at the annoyed huff from Changbin when you dodged his kiss.

“I want to kiss you though.” He tried to kiss you again but you skillfully avoided his lips and made him kiss your cheek instead.

“Dinner first! I promise I will kiss you as many times as you want later.”- You suggested smiling.

Changbin thought for a second, his eyes not leaving yours. Then quickly held your face so he could quickly peck your lips. “Deal!”-He muttered against your lips before giving you another quick peck. You couldn’t help but mirror his grin. He was such a dork.

The dinner was mostly quiet, with you occasionally talking about how your days went. It was comforting and somewhat healing to just eat dinner together and sip some wine while talking about mundane stuff of everyday life. You could get used to it and definitely wouldn't mind if this was an everyday occurrence. His earlier marriage rant really had shifted something inside you.

After eating you quickly tidied up with Changbin insisting that he do the dishes because that was “the least he could do” as he said.

So here you were now, sitting on your couch sipping your wine, enjoying each other’s presence, with some soft music playing in the background. You were debating if you should try the challenge with him, you were enjoying yourself and you didn't really feel like moving even a centimeter.

In the end you couldn’t resist the temptation. And decided to ask. “Binnie, I saw this challenge earlier on TikTok, will you try it with me?”

Changbin raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “What’s the challenge?”

“Nothing special, I just thought we could try it. I’m not going to post it or anything, but I think it will be a cute thing to do. You know we can look at it later, maybe years later and just reminisce you know?” You tried to not show too much excitement but you might have failed at that a little bit. Also it flustered you how you slipped up and said how you could at the video years later. You really saw future with him, but was this a good time to say this? Two months wasn’t that long to have those types of conversations? Or was it? You and Changbin were in for the long run, you surely knew that but still, it did make you feel a bit nervous.

Maybe Changbin noticed the little bit of hesitation in the end of your suggestion, or maybe he just felt like it, but he leaned in and gently kissed your lips which momentarily made you forget how to breathe. “Of course baby, what do you want me to do?” His voice was gentle, so loving.

God you loved this man.

“One second!” Somehow, with your legs feeling like jelly and your heart fluttering uncontrollably in your ribcage, you managed to get up to get the supplies for the challenge.

Changbin looked at you for a second then at the camera, a playful smirk appearing on his face. Suddenly with the most dramatic gasp ever he clutched his heart. ”Not my baby, my darling targeting my biggest weakness! How could you do this to me baby! When you think you know someone!” Suddenly he straightened up and gave you a playful glare. “For this betrayal you shall pay double the price! I demand as many kisses as I deem necessary and cuddles on top of that!”

You set up your phone and started to record, you would edit the video later if it got too long.

You handed him some papers on which you drew some flowers and hearts earlier and some scissors. “Basically, it’s a challenge to test your multitasking skills, I will also do it. You see how there are different shapes drawn on the papers? You just have to cut them out while telling a story without interruptions, like how we met for instance! Sound good?”

For the nth time that day you found yourself giggling at your boyfriend’s silly antics. Leaning in you kissed the top of his nose. “That’s a given baby, I will give you as many kisses as you want and maybe even more!”

Changbin grinned triumphally, his chest puffing out in pride.

“Okay let’s do it! I will make sure to win this challenge! Also you can’t back down I have the evidence of your promise on camera right there. So brace your pretty lips.” It was cute how fired up he got.

He looked at the papers his face suddenly more serious. In the end he chose glittery pink paper with a heart drawn on it.

“How we met huh? Okay!” He took the scissors and brought it to the paper. “I was with Hyunjin at the new café he wanted to go to. He found it on Instagram or something and he liked how artsy it was, so asked me to go with him, so I agreed.” Not to lie you were impressed on how well he started. He was talking confidently as he carefully started to cut out the shape. “It was a sunny day too. Then…” You not breaking the eye contact you still noticed how his hands faltered. He must have not noticed, he was gently smiling at the fond memory. “We got americanos because we had a lot of work to do…” He must have noticed he had stopped so he quickly picked up the pace. “And then…” He faltered again. Resumed to cut and faltered again. ”Wow this is hard…” He sighed, looking a bit annoyed at the paper, which wasn’t even halfway cut yet. “And then you bumped into me, because you weren’t really looking forward and was distracted by something. My drink spilled over me and…” Another falter followed with an annoyed huff. “You were so sorry, you kept apologizing” A few scissor movements without saying anything. ”You looked so cute; I couldn’t even take my eyes for you.” His stands stopped moving at all. “You were so embarrassed you almost looked like you were about to cry, but you looked to beautiful I can’t even describe it with words, you were apologizing and muttering about how you had the most horrible day ever. You were wearing all whites which made you look more angelic than ever. I couldn’t even say anything. It was the first time I understood the meaning of being rendered speechless by the sheer beauty of someone and I'm friends with Hyunjin! You were just so captivating. There was something so enchanting about you! And then you offered to buy me coffee and to pay for my dry-cleaning. That was when I noticed that my shirt was dirty. Honestly I didn’t give a damn about it I had clothes to change into at the studio but I agreed, because it meant that I would see you again. I quickly gave you my number and left with Hyunjin saying that I was busy and all. Honestly, I left so quickly because I was afraid you would change your mind. Usually I’m confident and everything but you just made me feel so nervous! “Changbin smiled softly, his eyes gentle and loving, looking at you with all the love in the world. You were speechless. Maybe even seconds away from crying, because hearing him talk about meeting you, sharing his thoughts…You couldn’t even begin to describe how it made you feel. You felt so loved and cherished and appreciated. Listening to this, you felt like a hero of a most touching romance book or a movie who gave a damn.

Smiling Changbin continued. “And that evening when you texted me I was so overjoyed! You asked me when was I free and I…” You didn’t let him finish, not giving a damn about anything, you wrapped your hands around him and kissed him.

You could feel Changbin’s hands fumble for a second. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to kiss him like that. He felt stiff for a second but he quickly regained his senses and leaned into the kiss. You heard a small thud, he must have thrown away scissors and papers somewhere away, because in a second his arms, free of anything, held you oh so tightly, as if he was afraid of letting you go.

“I love you!” you muttered against his lips, as you leaned in to kiss him some more.

Suddenly Changbin leaned back. Bewilderment written all over his face. Honestly he was a sight to behold. With his hair all messy from your wondering hands, cheeks all flushed. His glasses he decided to wear today sitting a bit crooked on his nose. His lips looking swollen and being most prettiest shade of pink from your kissing. God you loved him.

“What did you say?” His voice trembled, his wide eyes looking at yours, searching for answers.

You returned the confused stare. What was he getting at? Did you say something?

“You love me?” Changbin looked like he couldn’t believe his own words.

As the realization of your slipup hit you felt your face flush with embarrassment. Suddenly all you wanted to do was to crawl somewhere and hide.

“Baby…” Changbin held your face gently and made you look at him. “Do you love me?”

Unable to hide it anymore you nodded your head before answering. “I do. I love you.”

Changbin looked at you, his face portraying all sorts of emotions, you couldn’t really descipher. “I’m sorry. I know we haven’t been dating for that long. But I love you. A lot. I really love you…”

You didn’t even have time to even blink before his lips were on yours. He held you so tight as his lips devoured yours. This kiss was nowhere near countless small loving kisses you had shared before this. This was just something else. Something so raw, so passionate, so full of love and longing. It was whole another experience. You had never been kissed like this before. It made you feel so alive. Like there was this fire inside of you, making you feel ignited. You felt like you were on top of the world, like anything was possible and reachable. You felt truly alive.

Alive and falling.

And you did fall.

Changbin had deemed it necessary to just fall with you on top of him on the sofa.

Your sofa creaked in distaste for the sudden weight but both of you chose to ignore it. Choosing to kiss each other instead. Truth be told, you wouldn’t even give a damn if it broke into a million pieces right now.

“I love you!” Changbin whispered against your lips. “I love you.” Another peck. “I love you so much!” He grinned against your lips. “God I’m so happy I could die.” Another short but loving kiss followed by countless another, not limiting to your lips. He kissed you everywhere he could reach you.

“Please say it again.” He asked you after making sure to cover every visible part of your skin in kisses.

“I love you Binnie.” Smiling you caressed his cheek, loving how he leaned into your touch. His eyes looking at you with so much love, shining oh so beautifully they could rival any star in the universe.

Your heart had never felt fuller.

It was surely a miracle how seemingly most uneventful and regular day at first became most memorable and special day for you. And you hoped it would be followed with many more days like this with Changbin making them more memorable and special with you.

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated^^

If you like my work you can buy me coffee🩷

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @notastraykid (If you want to be added to my taglist feel free to tell me^^)

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mev-fizzah-writes · 16 hours ago

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ᑎᑌᗰᗷ 𓌉◯𓇋

A/N: First fic on this acc!! Enjoy this little angsty fic :) Neglected bat!reader breaks their sobriety after their family makes a grave mistake. Sure Reader should be used to it by now, but offering them a drink? At a Gala they forced you to attend? On your birthday? What a load of bull. You pray that Damian doesn't find out...but sadly they don't get accepted. No beta reader, we die like Jason Todd TW: Substance abuse, alcoholism, brief mention of underage drinking, self harm etc .

𐙚"Don't let them see you like this" -Alex G 𐙚

ᑎᑌᗰᗷ

That's what it felt like, not a single though in your mind. It was consumed by the taste on your lips, the bottle in your hand. Limp, you sat in your bathtub, surrounded by broken glass and empty beer cans. The loud city of Gotham seemed to finally be silence, it seemed distant. It was the only thing keeping you from fully drifting away, the faint sound of cars, the only time you thanked this godforsaken city for being loud.

Guilt hadn't reached your mind yet, you only wanted to drink. Focusing on how the burn in your throat made you feel, oh how it made you feel so alive. Each breath felt sharp against your throat, it made you want more. The alcohol coursed through your veins, providing an escape, providing a warmth no person ever gave to you.

Leaning more into the cold porcelain you stared at the shattered glass by your feet. You could feel its sharp edges against your feet, it was a constant reminder of your mistakes.

Unfixable, the glass and your life. But right now that didn't matter, only the bottle existed, the burn and the urge to finish it. You managed the strength to pull your arm up, tilting your head back to feel it. The taste you missed so much, a taste you wanted to forget had no idea why you would neglect. What a day to celebrate your twenty second birthday! Relapsing after two years wasn't your plan today but it sure was better than anything else that happened today.

The night, displayed by your bathroom window, taunted you. It made your mind float through an intoxicated haze. Pieces of the day coming back to you, as well as the -now broken- promises you made. A sigh left your lungs and it was evident that she had drank, so much. All of this, just because of one question. A question that shouldn't have broken your heart as much as it did, really it was pathetic.

"Why aren't you drinking tonight?"

The sound of your 'brothers' voice was distant, and so was the guilt that was soon to consume you. But as the line between fiction and reality blurred more with another sip, there was not a worry in your head. The guilt will come later, but here it was no where to be seen. The only thing you could grasp was the bottle you used to keep on the highest shelf.

A shelf that was now empty, thanks to your so-called family's echoes. Echoes that were forever etched into your brain. Not only had they forgotten about your birthday, forcing you into a social event that you already dreaded, but they had also forgotten about your sobriety. Was not drinking on your twenty-first not an obvious sign? The question had filled you with anger at first. Your fists were clenched to your side when Dick had asked that. Hopefully you would forget this day ever happended.

"Why aren't you drinking tonight?" Dick said with slurred speech, making your family turn their heads to you. At first you took it as a joke, that he was trying to make you less tense. When your chuckle left all of them confused that's why you could feel your heart shattered. It felt like time had stopped, like god was playing a joke on you. You just stared at them, not giving him an answer. "You're kidding." There was no point in hiding the sadness in your voice, there was no way anyone was going to care anyway. After a strangled 'yes' left his lips you decided there was no point in talking them. You took one last glance back at your dad Bruce, he looked like he was going to offer you a drink, that was the last straw, so you decided there was no point in staying. Sadly, you did. Just enough to take a sip of champagne, just enough to set you back. God did you wish Damian was with you, he would've remembered.

Remember. That's the only thing you wanted to do. Today was supposed to be simple, go with Damian to a petting zoo, visit you favourite café with a few friends and be done with your day.

Damian...would he have stopped you from doing this? He was too young to attend whatever you were at this morning and sadly he wanted to meet up with his friend. You weren't going to stop him, he was the only one that listened to you and vise versa.

It made you chuckle, every time you told him about how much you used to drink, and every time he would give a small lecture on how much it impacts your liver and brain. Being a doctor would really suit him.

Just as you close your eyes you see a small light peeking outside the door. Light footsteps followed soon after, and suddenly everything is crashing down. You shake your head, hoping, praying that it isn't Damian. You'd rather it be a murderer coming to finally end you then your little brother. No, he had so much faith in you, please. Sadly, if you speak of the devil, he appears.

The light spilling in from the living room stung your eyes, luckily they were already tearing up.

"Sorry I didn't knock, but can you pick up the phone-"

You saw it, the way his eyes widen an he drops your phone. The way the his green eyes suddenly become more reflective, is hands twitched and he took a step back. Your baby brother, staring at you with such a distaste and confusion and...there was nothing you can do. There was no way you could've gotten up to hug hum, even reassuring him seemed impossible in your state. Glass etched into your foot, a pool of blood by feet as your eyes fluttered.

"Wha...y-you promised!" His voice wobbled with an anger that you understood all too well. The way his eyes switched between shock and sadness and the way he seemed to be frozen on the spot. It was like looking into a mirror ten years ago. He stared at you the same way you stared at your mother, it was driving you crazy with guilt.

"Dami..." you croaked out, feeling nothing but selfish.

"No. Keep your eyes open I-I'll call an ambulance. I...I" watching him stutter didn't do anything good for your heart, you just wanted to hold him and tell him that this was just some sick prank.

"I'm sorry...just don't tell Dad." The way you uttered those words seemed to catch him off goard.

"This...feels like a matter that should be reported to hi-"

"Dami. Just don't...please." To be honest, you were baffled he was even understanding you. It didn't even feel like english you were speaking. "I love you, buddy..."

If those were your last words, you were glad. Soon the coldness of the porcelain was no longer there, and there was only a faint ringing you could here. Maybe you were dying? It was a lot less scary then what you thought it would be, it was just...numb. No taste of alcohol, no warmth, no burn. Only numbness.

Just numb.

Numb.

๋࣭ ⭑Laying there lifeless...๋࣭ ⭑

#batfam #batman x reader #batman & reader #bruce wayne x reader #damian al ghul x reader #batfam x batsis #batsis!reader #batboys x batsis #batfamily x reader #batfam x reader #platonic batfam #angst #dc fanfiction #damian wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #fizzah's ff

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semetarydrve · 3 days ago

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Extra Credit

╭─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╮

CW: smut, light corruption kink, teacher x student, blackmail

Pairing: teacher!Remus x student!Reader

WC: 3.8k

AN: already thinking abt a prt 2 where remus gets territorial abt yn if this one does well ill try to post it next week

╰─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────╯

“(y/n)!”

Your head shot up from the absent-minded notes you had managed to jot down, barely legible due to your seemingly never ending exhaustion. You looked up to catch your Defense Against the Dark Arts professors rather disappointed gaze.

“Yes Professor Lupin? I’m sorry I didn’t quiet catch that last part can you repeat the question.” He sighed and shook his head.

“It’s quite alright, you can just speak to me after your last class.” A wave of hushed snickers drifted through the room. Your face flushed in embarrassment and you nodded meekly. “Right, well on that note the deadline for the essay for your quarterly paper is due next week! Feel free to seek help after school tomorrow if you’re struggling.” He finished, people rushing to pack their things. You graciously took the opportunity to pack your things and attempt to slip by your professor in the crowd.

Unfortunately for you he’d been watching carefully, he couldn’t help himself. As the full moon drew closer he couldn’t ignore the thoughts plaguing his brain. His perverse fixation on you was far from new, still able to clearly recall the first day he laid eyes on you. You’d walked in at the tail end of the sea of new faces, quietly finding your seat conveniently at the front of the room. He’d watched inconspicuously, thinking that even under the unflattering cut of your uniform you brought on a deep primal urge to bury his knot deep inside of you.

When you finally passed by his desk he called out for you. With a shaky and apprehensive breath you diverted your path to reach him. He was now sitting at his desk shuffling around papers as students filed out, rolling up the sleeves on his cardigan and button up to expose his scarred arms. You pushed down the rather inappropriate thoughts about him that had plagued your mind since he’d begun teaching at Hogwarts. When the last few people had left the room he beckoned for you to sit in the chair next to his desk.

“Don’t worry this will be quick. First off I want to say (y/n) you have been nothing but an amazing student this year. But the last month or so I’ve noticed a decline in the quality of your work and it’s affecting your marks in my course. Is there something I can help you with?” He inquired. You sighed and shook your head, heart dropping at the idea of your grades being lowered.

“I’m sorry Professor. I’ll do better.” You said softly. His kind hazel eyes found yours and he shook his head.

“No need to apologize. I’m telling you this because I want you to succeed in my course. With just a bit of extra credit you’ll be back on track in no time.” His reassuring gaze made you feel more at ease.

“It’s not just your class I’m struggling with. Because of the workload I have I’ve been having trouble keeping up with everything. Truthfully I’m exhausted.” You sighed. It felt nice to be honest about how hard it was to stay afloat in school. He nodded sympathetically and smiled, placing a warm hand on your knee. This action was innocent enough but just the feeling of the physical boundaries between you being broken for the first time made him twitch in his pants. Now that he was close enough he could let your scent ingrain itself into his memory.

“I understand, I’ve been in your shoes. The last year is always the hardest. Perhaps when we meet after class I could offer some help to steer you in the right direction?” He offered.

“That would be very helpful if that isn’t too much to ask.” You replied, feeling relieved your favorite professor was willing to do that. He thanked you for your time and said he was looking forward to helping you later today.

As the door closed behind you he sighed heavily. He absolutely knew the complications of being involved with a student but never had he met one he was so tempted by. He did his best to keep it completely professional but once in a while he’d find himself staring at you. Dreaming of pinning you down and having his way with you. Even your sense of humor and sly way of thinking drew him in. Sometimes he wondered if you noticed his lingering gaze. His hand absently drifted to his crotch, palming at his growing erection. With a frustrated groan he sat up and ran his hands through his hair, attempting to pull himself together. He situated himself at his desk and began dealing with the mess in front of him, checking the clock during his next periods in anticipation of your return.

Finally class was dismissed for the last time and he sat down in his chair. He’d thought of this opportunity a million times but now that it was happening he was unsure of how he’d actually approach it. When the soft wrapping of your knuckles on his door echoed out, he swallowed the lump that had been building up in his throat thinking about you.

“Come in!” He called out. You quietly closed the door behind you and made your way to the seat he had placed in front of his desk.

“Thank you for offering to see me Professor. I was too nervous to ask on my own.” You said shrugging off your robe and pulling out your embarrassingly sparse notes.

“Nervous for what?” He chuckled. The question was light hearted enough but your face flushed. He spoke with such a sly tone, completely different from his nurturing instructor one. It gave you goosebumps, feeling slightly put off by his gaze. Not only did he sound different but his eyes had also lost their softer nature. Now they focused on you pointedly, slowly raking over every inch of your body. Finally he looked up to catch your eyes and you felt like he could read your discomfort.

“I just figured you were busy with all your other work I didn’t want to be a bother.” You replied trying to fill the silence, your eyes trailed to the two scars running across his face. 'i wonder how he got those?' You thought taking a moment to admire the way they enhanced his rugged look.

“Is there something on my face?” He asked chuckling. You shook your head. “And I could never be bothered by my favorite student.” He added making you smile and put aside the feeling that something was off. Perhaps you were just over thinking it because you did have a bit of a crush on him.

“Well thank you. If you don’t mind I have a few questions actually.” You said moving to pull out today’s notes. He nodded and stood up, circling around the desk and standing behind you. He bent down to get a closer look, his hands resting on the back of the chair. You crossed your legs and leaned slightly to the side to give him a better view of the paper.

“I see there’s more than a few things you forgot to write down today. I guess it would be best to start by covering what you seemed to have missed yeah?” He said gently placing a hand on your shoulder. He peered down at the notes from over you and slowly began massaging you.

“Sorry about that Professor. I just zoned out for a second during the lecture.” You stammered, unable to focus on anything but the sensation of his fingers working over your sore muscles. His right hand found its way to the other shoulder as he planted himself directly behind. The grip was strong and comforting.

“You don’t have to be so formal. You can call me Remus for now. And you what (y/n) I thought of an extra credit assignment that’ll fix your marks.” He said quietly as he leaned down to your ear.

“Just one assignment?” You inquired, trying to ignore the feeling of his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. You felt frozen, mostly confused and a bit afraid, but nonetheless a wet spot marked your panties.

“Mhm. Just one. And you could have it done tonight if you do it right. Does that sound good?” You nodded, unable to speak as you tried to process what was happening. You just knew it felt like saying no wasn’t a wise choice. You were in the last half of your final year, maintaining good marks meant everything. “You’re going to be a good girl and do what I say, and be quiet about it. Do we have an understanding?” He whispered, breath labored as he started to smell you break a sweat.

“Is there no other option? This just doesn’t feel right.” You said shakily, not wanting out right confrontation. He hummed pretending to think about it. His hands left your shoulders and came down to rest flat on the desk before you, effectively trapping you.

“You have two options. You can let me ravish you on this desk…” He started, trailing off.

“Or?” You asked afraid to move or look at him.

“Or you can leave and I’ll slowly but inevitably fail you. Assignments being counted as late, maybe even not turned in at all.” He threatened.

“That’s not fair! I’ll tell the Headmaster.” You protested.

“You could try. But he’s far too busy dealing with Sirius Black on the loose.” Even without being able to see his face you could hear that he was smiling. From your perspective he had a valid point. “So what will it be?”

“Fine.” You said quietly. His mind moved a mile a minute as the very situation he had dreamed about presented itself.

“I knew you’d come around.” He purred. “Now be a good girl and stand up for me.” He stepped back, giving you room.

“Yes Professor.” You said meekly, getting to your feet. For a moment you stood still facing away from him, too nervous to look at him. He gently spun you around by your waist. He looked down at your innocent face and felt his cock throbbing. What a beautiful little plaything you were. He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, your hands instinctively reaching for his bicep. The contact made his body feel hot, thinking about how long he’d been fantasizing about bending you over every surface possible.

"I've wanted to fuck you since the day you pranced into this classroom." He said pulling away breathlessly. Your eyes widened and cheeks flushed.

“Really?” You asked, unable to deny the way his words made your stomach flip. You weren’t used to this kind of attention.

“Yes really.” He said leaning in again for another kiss. He could feel your muscles relax, slowly letting your guard down. Good. "Now be a doll and get on your knees."

“But Professor-“

“Ah ah ah. Remember? You’re going to be good and listen right?”

“I’ve never done that before.” Your words came out small and timid. He couldn’t help but smile.

“You haven’t huh? It’s okay I’ve heard I’m pretty good at teaching others.” He joked. You shook your head and he gently caressed your cheek. “Don’t worry you’ll do great.” He said planting a kiss on your lips and stepping back. You swallowed, now painfully aware of your lack of experience.

“Okay Sir.” You said sinking to your knees. He watched as undid his belt and pants, your hands fumbling. You let out a small gasp as you freed him from his confinements. Bigger than expected was a light way of putting it. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a wave of embarrassment flood your system.

“Go ahead.” Remus commanded, his voice no longer soothing but instead dripping with frustration. He watched as you took the head of his cock in your mouth. He unbuttoned his shirt as you slowly inched him down your throat. He groaned and gripped your head with both hands, pushing you down harder. You gagged and he began thrusting slowly, building up speed making your eyes water. You blinked away the tears making your makeup begin to run down your face.

"Is it too much? Am I fucking your little throat too hard?" He taunted. Your fingers dug into his thighs as you fought his grip. He watched as you struggled, spit dripping down your chin onto the white, now almost sheer, button up. Eyes watery and pleading for mercy. The sight made his hips snap forward, almost cumming right then. "Over the desk. Now." He growled, pulling you to stand by your hair and pushing you onto the desk. Any ounce of self restraint or composure had flown out the window. Now all that mattered was getting to break in his new toy. He yanked your panties down. "Spread your legs." You did as you were told and stepped out of your panties as you opened your legs. He raked his fingers over your hips and thighs giving you goosebumps. Your brain reeled, thighs pressed together for relief from the dripping wetness between your legs and the knot in your stomach. He roughly pried them apart and began lightly tracing his fingers on your inner thigh, inching closer to your clit.

"Please." You cried squirming uncomfortably. He smiled devilishly and removed his hand.

"Please what?" He teased.

"Please touch me." You cried, pushing back against him. He watch in amusement as you begged for his touch, tightening his grip on your flesh and pulling you closer. His cock began slowly sliding between the folds of your pussy, just enough to tease you. The feeling was driving him crazy but now that he had you in front of him he’d savor every moment. Without a word he slipped his cock in carefully. You whimpered and he groaned, shocked by how perfect you felt.

“Now I want you to be very very quiet okay?” He breathed, slowly beginning to rock his hips. You let out a barely coherent ‘okay’ as your focus drifted to adjusting to his size. You reached behind and flipped up your skirt for a better view. He chuckled at your eagerness and gently grabbed the back of your head in one hand and pinned one of your wrists behind you with the other. In one swift motion he started pounding into you, your body pinned in place as he picked up a relentless pace. Without thinking you cried out loudly, immediately regretting your actions as he pulled out.

“Please put it back Remus.” You whined reaching with your free hand to guide him back inside of you. He tightened his grip on your wrist and pushed your face harder into the cool wood surface.

“I told you to be quiet but clearly you can’t.“ He said leaning over you. The adrenaline pumped through you at the feeling of being trapped under him.

“I’m sorry.” You cried, not yet daring to fight against his grip. He released you, stepping back and tucking himself away.

“Don’t be sorry, be better.” He said as you slowly straightened and turned to face him. The look of pure desperation on your face drove him crazy. You closed the distance and placed your hands on his chest.

“I promise I’ll be quiet. Anything you want.” You begged watching his eyes study your face. He actually didn’t have an intentions on stopping this encounter, just curious to see how quick he could have you wrapped around his finger.

"Lay on your back, now.” He watched you scramble to take off your skirt and get onto the desk. He stepped between your legs and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. His lips worked in sync with yours as he pushed your legs open. He ripped open your top, buttons scattering as he toyed with your nipples before running his hands down your body. He stopped at your hip and the other hand wandered farther down. He ran two fingers up to your clit, eliciting a needy moan from you. He pulled away from the kiss to put his fingers to his lips.

"You even taste sweet princess." He said as he licked them clean. He held eye contact as he began to rub slow circles on your clit. You jolted at the contact and laid back on the desk. He admired your cunt, small trickles down your legs making him chuckle. “Fuck you’re wet I might have to cum in your tight little hole.” He said slowly pushing into your heat. You moaned at the sensation, your walls gripping his fingers tightly. He leaned down and seized your throat with his free hand. You raised a hand to the one around your neck, using your fingers to indicate you wanted it tighter. He smirked and replaced the wary grip with a tight, more restrictive one. The combination of his fingers in you and around your throat was heavenly. He curled his fingers slightly sending a wave of unexpected pleasure through you. He took note of this and continued the same motion. Your eyes glazed over and you nodded fervently.

“Don’t stop. I’m so close.” You mewled quietly.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’re enjoying this. Maybe I’ll have to keep you to myself.” His words sent you over the edge. Biting your knuckle as the pressure in your lower abdomen built up, your eyes fluttered shut as you came on his fingers. He continued his motions, relishing in the feeling of you tightening around his digits. Your body felt hot and shaky as you rode the high. He slowly withdrew his fingers and cleaned them with an eager tongue. His hum of approval bringing a small smile to your face. You slowly sat up and placed your hands on his exposed chest where his shirt hung open.

“What happened?” You asked studying the scars that peppered his body.

“It’s a long story.” He replied as your eyes found his. He leaned in for a kiss. It was deep and passionate this time. His hand slipped behind you so he could pull you to the edge of the desk. You melted at the feeling of your bodies pressing together. His teeth bit down softly on your lower lip as he pulled away. “You’re doing so good for me.” He murmured against your lips.

“Thank you. I don’t really know what I’m doing.” Your bare cunt brushed against his pants as he leaned into you making you jump. He took notice of this and smirked as he began to slowly rock his hips.

“That’s okay, you’re a quick learner.” He said, trailing kisses down to your neck. His warm breath gave you goosebumps. “ ‘Nd I guess you aren’t as delicate as I thought.” His hand wandered down your stomach, stopping between your legs. Using his fingers he spread your lips causing you to involuntarily push back for more. “Don’t move.” He smirked and moved to bite your earlobe as he moved his fingers to your clit. You breathed deeply, fighting the urge to buck your hips.

“Professor shouldn’t we hurry? I don’t want you to get in trouble.” How sweet. You were worried about keeping your little secret.

“Unfortunately you’re right my love.” You watched excitedly as he made quick work of dropping his trousers. He pulled you in for another slow and tender kiss while lining himself up with your entrance. You both let out a sigh of relief as he used the hand on your lower back to keep you close while he slid in.

“Remus you feel so good.” You said in a hushed voice. He replied with a half hearted ‘my god’, his attention now focused on watching his cock slowly slide in and out. Slick with the taste of you. He almost couldn’t look away but the small whimpers coming from you drew his gaze up.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said breathlessly, speeding up his pace and rubbing your clit. You dropped your head back as he fucked you, your orgasm building quickly until you felt like you were gonna explode. You dug your nails into his shoulders and he watched in awe as profanities fell from your lips and your body began to quiver.

“I think I’m gonna cum.” You said, starting to feel overstimulated by his fingers.

“That’s my girl.” He cooed. “I don’t know if I’ll last much longer myself.” His voice faltered at the end as he felt himself getting closer to his own release. Your nails buried themselves deeper in his shoulders, earning a feral snarl from Remus. He liked when you lost yourself in the feeling of him. You might shape up to be his favorite fucktoy. A few more strokes and you were unraveling before him. You writhed and panted under him, unable to keep quiet. He grunted and withdrew, cum spurting on your lower half.

There was a brief pause as he held you.

“Did I do good, Sir?” You asked dropping your head on his chest.

“Very. But next week I’d like to-”

“Next week? I thought this was just a one time thing.” You said looking up at him confused.

“Did I say that?” He asked slyly. He cupped your chin and titled your face to give you a soft kiss. “But wasn’t this fun?”

“Yes, Sir I had a lot of fun.” You said nodding, fighting the butterflies in your stomach. It felt wrong but you could help but enjoy his presence.

“Good. Then you’ll be here same time next week. Now get dressed. And quickly.” He said beginning to fix his shirt. He watched proudly as you did what you were told. After your skirt was on he helped you put on your robes, pulling the front shut tight now that your shirt was basically useless without its buttons. As you opened your mouth to ask him a question there was a soft knock on his door. He shot you a ‘follow my lead’ glance before walking over to the door as you quickly fixed your hair. Professor McGonagall stepped in the room and looked over at you curiously.

“(y/n).” She said greeting you.

“Hi professor.”

“She was actually just leaving our tutoring session.” Remus said.

“Oh well I hate to interrupt Lupin but Dumbledore has requested to see you in his office.” She said giving him a knowing glance.

“Ah I see. Thank you Minerva.” He said turning his attention to you. “If you don’t mind (y/n), I’m going to step out if you’d like to gather your things. We can pick up where we left off next week.” He said giving you a small smile. You nodded, turning to pick up your parchment and other belongings. Your mind raced, grappling with the situation. As you grabbed the last of your things you turned and said goodbye to your teachers.

“Brilliant student isn’t she?” You heard McGonagall say as you left.

“Oh she’s a gem for sure.” Remus replied with a chuckle.

#remus lupin smut #maurauders smut #remus lupin x reader #harry potter smut

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scorpioriesling · 18 hours ago

Note

GIRLIE i have been reading 4th wing and holy hell, why havent we got an azriel x fourth wing yettt? like just imagine, that man is literally perfect for ANY book crossover, I would pay good money to see Az beat the frick out of jack (ew)

Our Worlds Collided

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Azriel x reader

Warning(s): Violence... I mean, read the ask. Lol.

Summary: Living in a different place than your boyfriend is hard, and the moments you can be together, you don't want to waste. But, being in school, there are still obligations and tasks you must complete -- even if it means spending time with your man in a less-than-ideal place.

SR’s Note: This ask was *chef's kiss*. I've been doing so much lately with smut + the Invisible String series (which is finished btw, go read it if you haven't yet) that I haven't really got to write a cute little short story in a while. I hope this is what you wanted -- I'm happy with how it turned out!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

"I'm so glad you made it!"

You threw your arms around your boyfriend, his tall but strong frame engulfing you as he held you close. Grateful for the familiar scent of pine and mint, you inhaled deeply.

"You missed me that much?" The low timbre of his voice was like a caress against your very soul.

Nodding wordlessly, he pulled back, only a bit to look into your eyes. His shadows danced around him in a joyful parade, signaling his inner happiness he so rarely showed on the outside.

"I missed you too, Y/N." He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your lips and smiling when you tugged him close for more. He slid his rough hands along your waist, settling on your hips while his lips moved against yours.

The moment, one you'd been desperate for for weeks now, was harshly interrupted by the mid-afternoon bell, signaling the end of classes for the day. You pulled back, watching your boyfriend grimace at the sound.

"Don't tell me you've never heard a schoolbell before, Azriel," you chuckled. His ears perked up at the sound, and only when it finally ended did he resume his usual, unassuming posture.

"I'll have to get used to the sounds here again." He says. It was true -- where he was from, Prythian, sounds were much softer as the fae hearing had adapted that way. But, in Basgiath, for your kind; it was quite the opposite.

"Yes... and the dragons." You'd taken his hand, making way for your dorm as he sighed.

"Ahh, yes. Almost forgot about those."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He truly could not have come to visit at a worse time; not to sound ungrateful, you loved seeing your boyfriend and all, but between all the training, challenges, and courses you were balancing -- well, there were many hours of the day that you had to leave him to attend those duties.

But, you couldn't complain. Spending every evening, curled up with Azriel, your back to his chest as you got the best sleep of your life? You were counting down the days to graduation.

"So... a first year... that's when we met," Azriel says slowly, flipping through one of your library books. He'd chosen Basgiath's War College History, and was all the more quizzical.

"Yes," you confirmed. "That was when I took Ramir to... well, Prythian." You shrugged. "Accidental, of course, but, look what it got me."

He glanced up, chuckling as you threw him a wink. It was an unusually rainy Friday, and though you'd rather be exploring the town with Azriel, Emetterio had other plans.

"But, how were you even able to leave the college with your dragon?" He asks, frowning at the next. You wrap a few more strands of your braid, reflecting on the distant memory.

"Oh, I got in trouble all right." General Sorrengail had been furious with you upon your return, having clearly stated that dragon riding was for Basgiath-grounds only. "But, like I said -- at least I met you."

He doesn't look up this time, flipping the page and reading more of the text intently.

"So, now that you're a third-year," he starts, his attention only faltering for a moment when you sit down on the mattress beside him. "You can go anywhere you want?"

You nod in confirmation. "Yup. That's right -- Ramir doesn't particularly like long-distance flying, but he does just fine going to Prythian and back."

Azriel looks sidelong at you, and in the dim afternoon light, you can count every freckle on his face. His hazel eyes gaze at you, flickering between your eyes and lips. You lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as his hands slide along your upper thigh.

Your alarm buzzes from your phone, causing Azriel to pull back and cover his ears with his palms. You scramble to turn it off, leaning across your boyfriend to reach the night stand in the process.

"Sorry! I'm sorry," you apologize. Your movement to sit back down is halted; his large hands pulling you to straddle him.

He smirks at you, appreciating your cute giggle as you sit on his lap. His hands run up and down the sides of your waist, and in an instant his lips are on yours again.

"Hmm, quite handsy today, are we?" You mumble, eliciting a chuckle from him against your mouth. He enforces his feelings as his left hand lightly pats your behind, and you squeak.

"I wonder why you've got all this on, anyway?" He mutters suggestively. You peer down at him with a scolding expression.

"Though I'd love to have it all off," you punctuate. "I have to be in the training room in 10 minutes." His smile falters a bit, and you realize too late that you slipped up.

"Training room? For what?"

Realization hits you, and you hastily hop off his lap to grab your phone and boots.

"Uh, we have, umm..." You fumble, quickly yanking your boots on and tying the laces. "Training. Tonight."

He looks at you, unimpressed. "Really. Training, at 5 in the afternoon? On a Friday?" He raises an eyebrow.

You huff, standing as you adjust your leathers. "Y-yes."

He continues his blank stare, clearly not buying it.

"Don't worry, I won't be long -- I promise, I'll be quick." You reach for the doorhandle, making up for the time you you'd spent on your boyfriend's lap.

"And, safe." He calls, just as the door shuts.

As you jogged through the corridors, you felt anything but safe. Azriel hated when you got hurt, and of course, before the long weekend, Professor Emetterio was holding challenges. It made sense to choose tonight so injured riders could rest up before classes resumed Tuesday -- but given your situation, it really, really sucked.

Especially because of who had chellanged you; none other than Jack Barlowe.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"Girl, you're lucky Emetterio is running behind," Violet says, shaking her head as you finally make it to the training ring. Rhiannon places a light hand on your shoulder, making sure you're okay, but you only nod to her in thanks.

"I.... I lost, track... of time," you say between pants. Rhiannon nods in sympathy, but your silver-haired friend only smirks.

"Mhm, I'm sure you did. Too caught up with the Shadowsinger?" She teases. Rhiannon gasps.

"I didn't know Azriel was in town!" She beams. You roll your eyes at Violet.

"Oh, like you've never been late before," you grin wickedly. "Too busy playing with shadows, and such." Rhiannon claps a hand over her mouth, giggling at the insinuation.

Violet can't help but laugh too. "Oh please -- we know you love your boyfriends little playmates just as much."

Just then, the training room door swings open as Professor Emetterio walks through. He walks straight to the center of the room, clipboard in hand.

"Students!" He bellows, and the entire room hushes. "I have the list here of challenges for this evening -- now, I want to remind you all, the goal of these scheduled fights is not to kill, but rather build your own strength as a rider against an opponent."

Your eyes flicker to that familiar head of blonde hair across the room. Bile rises in your throat as he snickers, whispering something to his friends before meeting you with a menacing stare.

You look away.

"...we'll try to make this quick, as I do understand it is a long weekend and most of you have plans." He clears his throat, adjusting his glasses on his nose and squinting down at the first names.

"Ridoc and Merlin -- please step onto the training mat!"

Everyone clears off the mat, instead lining the outer edges to get a view of the impending battle before them. You stay close to your friends, your attention interrupted by Violet's voice in your ear.

"We've always kind of had the same type, haven't we?"

Rhiannon giggles again from her other side, and you loose a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

"We do not -- for example, I would've never dated a guy like Dain." You quip. Violet groans, stratching her forehead.

"Okay, that was definately one mistake," she says. Rhiannon glances between the two of you, counting the similarities on one hand.

"Hmm, tall, tan, brooding shadow masters? Yeah, I'd say your type is the same." You blush, thinking of the handsome male waiting for you in your dorm room.

Violet chimes in. "Don't forget about the tattoos."

Rhiannon nods, holding up another finger. "Right, right -- definitely can't forget the tattoos."

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Three more pairs are called after the first fight, and you're so caught up in conversation with your friends that you almost miss your name being called.

"Y/N and Jack -- please take the mat!"

Violet looks to you in horror, as Rhiannon gasps.

"Y/N! Why didn't you tell me you had to fight-"

"It wouldn't have changed anything." You glare ahead, watching Jack's pompous, blonde head part through the crowd of onlookers.

It was true, your friends couldn't have done anything to change the fact that Jack had challenged you. In a twisted way, you kind of wanted the opportunity to punch him in the face -- but, the niggling fear of him punishing you to the near brink of death had you mostly thinking otherwise.

Taking the mat, you watched as Jack sized you up, smirking and rolling his lip between his teeth before taking his beginning stance. You mirrored him, fists raised, though they shook.

"Begin."

Jack wastes no time, slowly stepping around the ring as he continues to look at you menacingly. You move in opposition, trying to keep as much distance as you can.

"Awww," he coos mockingly. "Not so tough now that were in the training ring, are we?" He smirks.

You glare at him. "I've always been tougher than you, Jack."

He chuckles, lunging forward and clicking his teeth together in front of your face. You step back, your boot stepping onto the cold concrete floor outside the training ring. Emettario clears his throat, before breathing out a sigh.

"Y/N, please. Step back onto the mat."

You take a half step onto the mat, it's surface not much more forgiving than the concrete it sat on. Jack snickers, backing up to allow you an inch of room.

"Y'look scared to me, Y/N." He moves, slow and stealthy. "Almost as scared as Baide when I-"

"Shut the Hell up." You grit out, glaring hard at him. Reflecting back to the moment that caused all this to begin with, your blood boils. Finding Jack out late that night last week, all of those weapons, how he had mistreated his own dragon-

"Ooooh, hot are we?" He sneers, ignoring the fearful faces of your friends standing just outside the ring behind him. "That's the difference between dragons and us -- they are easier to control."

Rage bubbles over the surface, your own words drifting into the back of your mind. They're no different than we are, you'd tried to convince him that night. They deserve our respect.

You lunge at him, respect be damned for the asshole before you. Adrenaline pumps through your veins at the silent victory; your fist had hit him exactly where you wanted it to. He staggers back, clutching his face with one hand as he gasps, his other hand raised before him.

"Fuck, you!" He growls, making to grab you but you're too fast. You snake to his side, kicking your boot against his stomach. He doubles over, falling to his knees in pain.

The memory of Violet in this position from your first year sends you reeling, remembering the horror of watching your best friend beaten and bruised so badly that Xaden had to come finish her challenge for her.

You grap him around the neck, flexing your arm at a 45 degree angle in an attempt to put him in a headlock. He'd never hurt anyone again; not you, not your friends, not any dragon, whether it be someone else's or his own-

His hands grip your arm, pulling you over his back and slamming you straight onto your back before him. You let out a cough as the wind was knocked out of you, your vision blurring as you tried to refocus on the ceiling above you.

"Shouldn't have fucked with me, Y/N!" He shouts, scrambling to his feet, only to land a harsh kick to your ribcage. You cried out in pain, grabbing your side as you felt his boot shoving against your ribs, and fingers, again.

"I do what I want with my dragon," he grunts, ramming his shoe into your side over and over again. Pain explodes across your body, your fingers cracking beneath his repeated blows.

Black spots begin to fill your vision, the overhead lights blinking out as the last sounds feel your ears. You're blacking out. You're surely blacking out.

You try again to rise, weakly as your arms shake beneath you. It's no use -- his foot connects with your hipbone, sending you right back to the floor. The shouts of your friends, Emetterio's calling, the world around you; it all begins winking out.

Curled onto your side, you heave one last final breath, waiting for the final hit to send you into darkness.

But, it never comes.

You crane your neck, confused as the shouting around you grows louder. Wincing in pain, you make it onto your back, only having to turn your head to watch as the horrific scene unfolds from the other side of the mat.

Tall and terrifying, you watch those familiar scarred hands throw the blonde to the ground, his body literally bouncing in recoil at the impact. Large, tanned muscles yank Jack back up; only to twist his arms behind his back, the angle unnatural.

Your enemy cries out, writing in pain as the wispy black shadows hurl punches of their own at the bastard. Dark, large wings flare behind the male; the talons enough to send anyone away screaming.

"Please... you don't have to do this, I-"

Azriel punches him clean in the jaw, Jack's head jerking as he falls limply to the ground. The growing crowd around the mat erupts, their screams so loud it felt deafening.

You now understood why Azriel hated the sounds here so much.

The black dots clouding your vision increase, your heart rate slowing before you finally black out -- the last thing you see are his familiar leather boots stalking toward you.

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"She's going to be just fine."

The light from the overhead bulbs is blinding as you squint your eyes open, muffled voices and beeps becoming more distinguishable. You blink a few times before everything comes into clear view -- the white operating bed, the heart rate monitor beside you...

...the brooding, winged male in the chair across from you.

"I... what..." you look side to side, taking in the mender watching over you. He begins to grab his things, preparing to leave.

"Your challenge with Mr. Barlowe left you with a few... injuries," he settles on the word lightly. You don't miss his quick glance to Azriel before he continues. "But, not as many as he recieved himself."

You swear there is a hint of a smile behind his words.

"I'll leave you two for a moment."

No sooner than the door shuts behind him, Azriel is on his feet and approaching your bedside, opting to sit next to you on it as he looks down at you. Concern etches his features, underneath the unassuming mask he puts on; then, the memories of what happened start coming back to you.

"Why would you step in like that?" You say angrily, and Azriel huffs.

"Seriously, Y/N? Why would I step in?" He raises his eyebrows. "Maybe because I wasn't comfortable watching the shit get beat out of my girlfriend, that's why." He takes your wrapped hand in his, though his brows still knit on his forehead. "Why didn't you tell me about the fight beforehand?"

You relax your features a little, your heart softening as he rubs small circles against the back of your palm with his thumb. "I didn't think you'd particularly like it, or understand-"

"You're damn right I don't like it." He says, giving your hand a small squeeze. "What would have happened had I not been there?"

His hazel eyes stare right into yours, and you bite your bottom lip. Truly, what would have happened?

"I-I don't know, I guess, Emetterio would have-"

"He wasn't doing shit, Y/N." He sighs, leaning on his elbow to cocoon you in an embrace. He presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck, and you find yourself relaxing a bit more against his warmth.

"I don't like that you have to go through these things." He says after a moment of silence. His voice is softer now, his hand lightly running along your bandaged side. "I don't like to see you hurt-"

"I have to do this though, Az. It's part of training." You turn to face him, wincing in pain as the fresh bandages do little to ease you. "And, I'm much tougher than you think."

A ghost of a smile graces his lips, his rough fingers reaching out to brush a piece of hair out of your eyes.

"I know you are. I just... I don't want anything to happen to you. I love you too much for that."

Your heart practically bursts out of your chest at the sentiment, and in that moment, you snuggle closer to his chest.

"Good thing I have a big, strong male that I love to protect me then."

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acosf #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #acofas #azriel smut #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #acowar #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #read more

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taeiris · 8 hours ago

Note

That piece you just posted, of byler, truly divine. Thank you so much for giving the tag life with that one! It's so detailed, how long did it take to complete cuz st need to hire you to do a byler comic or something ASAP!

May you always get your favorite food at the most cozyest time to just relax

EHEHEH thank you im so happy you guys are enjoying it!! it took me so long😭 i started it during finals around late nov-early dec which was a horrible idea cause all i wanted to do was work on that while i had the responsibility of my college classes so i just worked on all the lineart and then focused on finishing the semester for me to work on it again

but then i got a job😭 so i was coming home tired only wanting to play marvel rivals so that further delayed me finishing it until now lmfao

the only motivation for me making this comic was that last panel, i just wanted to draw that but bc im insane and love putting lore into everything i had to make it into a comic.

here’s the storyboard!!!

and heres my inspo for the last panel

my girl layla el faouly looking up at my other girl marc spector bc they are EVERYTHING TO ME

also wanted to note but forgot; i wanted to also kinda showcase will’s survival instincts once hes in the UD + mike is in danger. we all talk about protective mike but forget how selfless and protective will also is, having survived the UD at 12 years old for a whole week alone.

no matter what is happening in their relationship, he will always protect mike in any way he can. once he sensed the demodog, he quickly entered survival mode and found a way to protect himself and mike’s clumsy ass

anyways thats my tangent im really happy the comic is getting love everywhere after the sweat i put into it😭♥️

#stranger things #byler #byler fanart #irisart!!!#ari answers asks #asks

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supernotnatural2005 · 2 days ago

Text

In the Eyes of a Hunter

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean finally had a few days spare from hunting with his dad to come see you at college. Though you weren’t exclusive, seeing you with another man opens up a can of feelings Dean had so desperately been trying to keep closed, and a confession that could change everything.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: Angst, self doubt, Dean really needs to appreciate himself more 😩

AN: I know the gif is of Alec (Dark Angel) but, i couldn’t help but see a young Dean and this idea came to me 😅 It's a little more on the angsty side, but I promise the fluff is there. Also Happy New year! I know I've been away, not posting for a little while, but I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things. I hope you guys enjoy this one, let me know what you think?

Masterlist

2003

The crappy daytime shows weren’t cutting it, even in their static form from the ancient TV the motel provided.

You were supposed to have been here two hours ago. That was the plan. Your class finished at 2, and then you were free for the day. Free to see him.

After all, he had come all this way for you. What little time he could get away from hunting, he gave to you. He actively ignored the reason as to why he did, not wanting to admit the truth of it. Knowing it would cause more harm than it was worth.

But as he sat here, aimlessly staring at the fuzzy figures on the screen, time slowly ticking away, his mind restless and full of scenarios that only seemed to bother him the more they spiralled, he realised maybe the harm had already been done.

Deciding he’d waited long enough, he dropped the remote in his lap with a huff and took another look at the digital clock beside him.

4:15 pm.

He stood up from the bed and gathered his leather jacket and keys to the Impala his dad had officially given to him last month and headed out. Maybe you’d just gotten held up in class. He was no ‘Mr. College,’ but he understood there was a lot on your plate. At least from the last few times he’d come to see you. The stress had almost brought you to tears more than a few times, so he couldn’t understand Sammy’s desire to go. But hey ho, what did he know? He killed monsters for a living.

The rumble of the engine purred beneath him as he started the ignition. The sound echoed in the almost empty lot, bringing a proud smirk to his lips. He still couldn’t believe she was finally his.

This car had been one of the only other constants in Dean’s life, getting them from A to B, sometimes even calling her home for the night. He knew as soon as his dad handed him the keys and handed him the responsibility of looking after her, he’d do everything in his power to do just that.

As he drove toward your campus, the signs of autumn were heavily present with the flutters of orange and yellow leaves falling from the trees; his mind drifted to thoughts of you again.

He had met you a year ago, having rolled through town to deal with a simple salt and burn case. He was riding solo, his dad dealing with more dire matters, like a fresh trail on Yellow Eyes. Sam had left a few months prior to go make it as a hotshot lawyer in California, leaving Dean alone in the aftermath.

The fight between Sam and John had been ugly. Dean resorted to the middleman, as usual. He was proud of Sammy, more so that he was actually able to stand up to John, but he couldn’t help but feel the sting of abandonment. What did he have other than this job and his loyalty to finding the thing that took his mother?

After he wrapped up the case, he’d treated himself to a celebratory drink at one of the local bars, which happened to be a student hot spot, and that’s where he’d met you.

He had noticed you almost immediately. You were breathtaking, and he’d found himself glancing in your direction more often than not, watching as you’d laughed and drank with your friends. You were so carefree, beautiful, and way out of his league for many reasons. Those reasons only multiplying once he’d gotten to know you, and they still rang true to this day.

You’d caught him staring; eventually, he’d seen your eyes flicker in his direction a few times. Despite his own self-deprecations, Dean knew he was good-looking, knew the effect he had on women, and he was surprisingly good at playing the confident ‘bad boy.’.

He’d never really given much thought to anything other than a one-time thing. For one, it was easier that way. He never stayed in one place for longer than a couple of days, and secondly, his job wasn’t your normal 9 to 5, and having attachments was dangerous.

However, as soon as you’d made your way over to him, after what had looked like some encouragement from your friends, and introduced yourself with that faux drunk confidence, he was hooked.

At the time, you had just entered your senior year, and you had told him of your plans to take a gap year once you’d graduated. Like Dean, you felt a little lost in life, though for completely different reasons. Your major was something your father had insisted on, despite it not being what you had wanted to do. Apparently his plan was to have you work at his company, maybe even take over for him one day, but you hated all that corporate bullshit.

So Dean already could relate. A demanding father whose opinion was the one and only. Maybe he did understand why Sam had left more than he originally thought. Like right now, he had this mission, his dad’s mission, yet once that was over, what next? Did he just continue what he was doing? Living off of stolen credit cards, diner food, and cheap motel rooms?

The more he got to know you, your desires and dreams to travel the world, live, and experience life, he found himself picturing that, wanting that too. You had a way of making everything seem brighter and more hopeful, making him feel like there was more to life than just a ‘job.’.

He knows now why he kept coming back to you, why he still keeps coming back. Because for once in his life he felt seen, felt wanted, understood. And maybe it was time for him to tell you that. To tell you the truth. Consequences be damned.

However, it was all wishful thinking, and Dean’s search for you was cut short when he spotted you walking out of the student library, your beautiful smile and sounds of laughter filtering through his open window, and beside you, another man.

He felt his chest constrict, his stomach churn uncomfortably at the sight. His knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel tight. He rolled to a stop and watched as you continued to laugh at whatever this douchebag was saying to you.

He knew he had no right to be jealous. You weren’t exclusive. He was the one who’d made that clear, and surprisingly you had been okay with it. You didn’t know what he really did for a living, just that he had to travel a lot for ‘the family business.’.

Though, with his recent self-revelation that his feelings for you ran much deeper than something casual, this felt like a punch to the gut. Maybe this was a sign that this whole thing was a bad idea. Why getting close to someone was not on the cards for him. Of course you would’ve met someone else. How could you not? You were beautiful, smart, funny, and sweet. Why would you wait around for some drifter like him?

With his insecurities rearing their ugly head, threatening to swallow him whole, he failed to notice the two pairs of eyes on him. It wasn’t until there was a light rap at the window that he snapped out of his thoughts. He jumped a little and looked to where you were leaning down beside the partially opened glass, your expression surprised, but you were smiling nonetheless.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Came your innocent question, but it just seemed to rub him the wrong way, that and he noticed that guy lingering a few feet behind you, looking around awkwardly.

“It was getting late; I thought I’d come see if you were okay, but I can see you’re busy.” He spoke the last words with a little more venom as he nodded to the lingerer. And he hated the slight dip in your brow and the downturn of your lips.

“I was actually on my way to see you now.” You began, your voice light but weary. “I’m sorry I got held up. Alex just needed some help, and time got away from me.” Your explanation did nothing to calm his nerves. In fact, it made him feel worse. Like he didn’t matter. Again he had no right, but he was already spiralling.

“You know what? It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He shrugged you off. “I’m going to have to cut this trip short anyway. Dad called; gotta meet him a few states over.” The lie came easily, but the knife in his heart twisted with each word. You frowned at him, he saw it in his peripheral, but he refused to meet your eyes. He couldn’t.

“Alex, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He heard you say before you walked around the car and abruptly slipped into the passenger side.

“What are you doing?” His question came out more snappish than he intended. You folded your arms and sat back in your seat, looking much like a stubborn child.

“We’re going to talk.” You shrugged as if that were obvious. “We can either do that here or back at the motel; your choice.” You levelled him with an unwavering stare, one that crushed his resolve and had him grumpily starting the engine and driving back to the motel.

You walked past Dean as he opened the door for you, your eyes widening a fraction at the state of the room. It had certainly seen better days; the wallpaper was faded and peeling from the walls, and the carpet had a questionable amount of stains on it. From what? You didn’t hope to find out. He usually stayed in much nicer rooms, but seeing as it was close to the holidays, this was probably all he was going to get.

You plopped down on the squeaky mattress and looked at him. He was avoiding your eyes, shifting awkwardly in his spot. You’d never seen him this worked up. You liked to think you knew Dean rather well, at least him as a person. He still kept some things to himself, like the details of the job he did with his dad. Sometimes he came to you looking so haunted, but those times weren’t spent with much talking.

You were beyond curious; Dean was a mystery you were still trying to unravel. However, you knew your standpoint: that you weren’t his girlfriend and never would be. He’d made it clear from the beginning that he didn’t want to make a commitment, yet he kept coming back for you. You didn’t push him as to why he did, in fear he would stop altogether.

If you were honest with yourself, you had fallen in love with him months ago. Yes, your situation was complicated, and he never stuck around longer than a couple of days. But Dean was special; he wasn’t like the guys you knew at college or in your life in general. He was wise beyond his years, thoughtful, funny, and smart, despite how much he called his younger brother the “brains of the family.” And he was also one of the most handsome men you’d ever laid eyes on.

“What was that back there?” You decide to just rip the Band-Aid off. You had a pretty good idea, but you wanted to hear it from him. He finally looked to you then, his posture straightening, his arms folding across his chest as if in a defensive stance.

“I told you, I was just checking to see if you were okay.” He spoke as if he didn’t really care for the conversation, but his jaw was ticking, and his brow remained furrowed. “I have to leave, so can we make this quick?”

It was your turn to frown then. Admittedly, his words stung; you hadn’t even had the chance to see him yet, and now he wanted to leave all of a sudden.

“Is this because of Alex?”

“What? No!” His response was quick and higher in pitch, and it only confirmed your assumptions. He was jealous.

“You know he’s only a friend, right?” You offer, biting back your smile.

“And? Why would I care who you’re friends with?” He grumbled and looked down at one of the stains on the carpet beneath his boot, fixating on it as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“It just seems like you do it all.” You shrugged nonchalantly, though your voice tinged with something akin to a teasing tone. His eyes flickered back up to yours, darker than you were expecting.

“You think I care who you hang around with? Who do you date? I don’t own you. If you want to meet guys and have boyfriends, then go ahead; I’m not stopping you.” His voice rose an octave with each word, his body trembling slightly as he unleashed kept feelings out into the open.

“It’s not like everyone I’ve ever cared about or loved sticks around. I mean, why would they? I’m a freak, a loser.” He reveals, his eyes widening slightly at his unmeant confession. You sit in stunned silence, not expecting that outburst from him.

“So if we’re done here, I have to leave.” He quickly adds, embarrassed and angry at himself for saying those things. Things he’d wanted to keep buried and never allow to see the light of day. He hastily begins collecting his things; there's not much, but there’s enough to give you time to snap out of your stupor.

“Hey.” You grab onto his arm with enough force to stop him from picking up his duffle. He obliges you, but you know you have to select what you say next carefully; otherwise, you’re uncertain as to if you’d ever see him again.

“I don’t know where all that came from, but I don’t think you’re a freak or a loser.” You frown sympathetically at him. It hurt you to hear him speak so lowly of himself.

“Dean, I think the world of you.” You admit it, and his eyes flicker to yours, uncertainty shining in those pools of green. “I know our situation isn’t ideal or even normal, but in this last year of knowing you, I think you’re amazing.”

“You do?” The question slips out involuntarily, but your responding smile is warm and calms his nerves a little.

“Dean, you’re the best person I know, the only person I want to see. I haven’t said anything because I know you didn’t want a commitment, but dammit, I love you. I am in love with you.”

Your last word is cut off by the sudden press of his lips. Your surprise squeak quickly turns into a grateful sigh. And you wrap your arms around his shoulders and neck as he hugs you closer to him.

He breaks away after a few minutes, your breaths mingling in the small gap between where his forehead rests against yours.

“I’m sorry.” It’s not what you were expecting him to say, but you allow him the time to speak. “I overreacted, and I had no right to.”

You cup his smooth cheek, which he leans into, and offer him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay.” You swipe a thumb across his cheekbone, and he takes comfort in your touch.

“I just. I have something I need to tell you. Something I’ve kept from you, been keeping from you.” He sighs, his face tormented and sad as he pulls away. It’s worrying you, but you try to internalise it for his sake. He takes your hand and guides you to the bed until you’re both sitting side by side.

“Dean, you can tell me anything. You know that, right?” You tell him honestly. He seems to be battling in his own mind, his internal struggle present in his rigid form and fidgeting hands.

He huffs out a humourless laugh and rubs a hand down his face before looking at you. Really looking, and you sit quietly, but strong, showing him you’re there and are willing to listen.

“There’s a reason I never told you what I did for a living.” He begins. “For one thing, I didn’t even think we’d even get this far, and there was no point to put that on you.” He shakes his head, his heartbeat in his ears, his stomach in knots.

“And secondly, it’s dangerous. My job is dangerous, and I’d never want anything to happen to you.” He looks at you pleadingly, and you nod, despite the swarm of questions flooding your mind.

Meanwhile, Dean blows out a nervous breath; he can’t believe he’s going to tell you the truth. Something he’d been the most adamant about not doing. Though he is in too deep, he knows that now, and you had a right to know, a right to run for the hills about what he was going to confess. He’d even agree with you when you called him crazy and walk out that door and never bother you again if that’s what you wanted. Selfishly, he hopes that isn’t the case, but you had a right to choose.

“I’m a hunter.” He begins, and it hangs heavy in the air for two different reasons. For you, you’re a little confused, not understanding the dire build-up and Dean because he was unveiling his and his family’s biggest kept secret.

“To clarify, I don’t hunt deer, elk, or critters in the woods.” He explains, but the alarming look on your face at the only other possibility to you has him panicking. “Not humans either.” He adds with a nervous chuckle, and you visibly relax.

“I hunt monsters.” He reveals, and you stare at him dumbly for a moment.

“Monsters?” You repeat, and Dean nods in confirmation. “As in the bogeyman?”

“Sometimes, yeah.” Dean shrugs as if that was a casual thing to admit. You blink at him, as if you’re trying to process his words, but they don’t quite fit together in your mind. Monsters?

Your heart is pounding now, your mind racing, but all that comes out of your mouth is a shaky laugh, laced with disbelief. “Monsters?” You repeat, your voice thin and tight, like you’re testing the word on your tongue to see if it makes sense.

Dean’s face falls, and for the first time you see him as vulnerable as he’s ever been. There’s something desperate in his eyes, a plea for understanding that only seems to make the pit in your stomach widen.

“Yeah,” he says softly, nodding, but his voice cracks with the weight of the truth he’s just unleashed. “I hunt things that go bump in the night. Demons, ghosts, things like that. Creatures that don’t belong in this world.”

The room feels suddenly smaller. The air thicker. You look at him, your head spinning, and you can feel your pulse quicken as panic starts to creep in. A part of you wants to laugh it off, because this is crazy. There’s no way this could be true, right? Dean isn’t telling you the truth. It has to be some messed-up way for him to push you away.

A cold, sinking feeling settles deep in your chest. “Are you... are you serious?” Your voice comes out shaky, a whisper of disbelief hanging in the air. “Is this some kind of joke? You’re telling me... You hunt monsters?”

His expression tightens, lips pressed into a thin line, as if your question just added a fresh layer of weight to what he’s already carrying. “I’m not joking. I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. Since one of those bastards took my mom." The room grows silent, both of you respectively reeling from his admission.

You had always figured Dean’s mom wasn’t in the picture for the pure fact he’d only ever spoken of his dad or younger brother. For what reason you never knew; however, the truth of it was more devastating than you could comprehend.

When he looks at you again, there’s a pain in his expression that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before, and it’s then you decide this isn’t some elaborate story to make a break-up easier on him or to spook you just for the fun of it. This was very real, and this man had been living it.

“This life… it’s dangerous. The people I meet, the things I fight, they’ll come after anyone I care about. I never wanted to put you in that position.” Dean says, his voice breaking. “I wanted to keep you safe; you deserve so much more than this, than me. You deserve the truth.”

You stand there, trying to breathe, trying to make sense of the words he’s spoken, but it’s like your entire world has been turned upside down. Dean is telling you about this huge part of his life that he’d kept from you, and you can’t tell if you should be running for the door or if you should stay and try to understand him, to understand this.

“But why? Why did you even let me in?” You ask, your voice catching on the last word. The question haunts you, and you need to understand the answer, even though a part of you is scared of hearing it.

Dean’s eyes soften, and for a moment, you see the man behind the mask, the man who is so full of fear, so full of love, and so completely torn apart. “Because I love you,” he says simply, his voice soft but resolute. “I love you, and I never wanted to hurt you. But I don’t know how to make you understand what I do. How dangerous it is. How it’s too late for me to just stop, even if I wanted to. It’s all I’ve known.”

You’re frozen in place, the weight of his words hitting you harder than anything else. He loves you. It’s the last thing you expected to hear, the last thing you thought you’d ever get from Dean, especially now. But somehow, despite the chaos of it all, you feel your heart calm, just a little. Because the truth is, you really do love him. Despite everything.

You close your eyes for a moment, your mind racing with the enormity of what he’s just confessed. You want to scream, you want to run away and pretend none of this ever happened, but you can’t. You’re not that person. You can’t walk away from him, not now, not after everything you’ve felt for him.

You take a deep breath, forcing the words out, even as they feel foreign and strange in your mouth. “I... I don’t understand this. I don’t get it. But I do get you, Dean. I know who you are, even if I don’t know everything about your life.” You pause, letting the silence hang between you, both of you drowning in the weight of the moment.

And then, almost in defiance of the terror bubbling up inside you, you take a step forward. “I’m scared, Dean. I don’t know what this means for us. But I don’t want to lose you.”

Dean’s eyes flicker, relief and gratitude flooding his face. Slowly, carefully, he reaches out and takes your hand in his. “You won’t lose me,” he promises, his voice barely above a whisper, but the conviction in it is enough to make your heart steady, even if just for a second.

You reach up and press your lips to his, the simple action bringing you the sense of comfort and relief you both needed after such a heavy moment. Dean responds in kind, his hands firm and strong as he holds you close, his kiss soft yet purposeful, charged with an unspoken understanding of what kind of life you were agreeing to embark on.

There’s so much left unsaid, so much you’re both struggling to understand. But for now, in this small, broken room filled with the weight of the truth, you both know one thing: neither of you is ready to let go just yet.

As you both part, Dean exhales a long, tired breath. His grip on your hips tightens slightly, and in that simple gesture, you can feel the conflict in him, the rawness of everything he's kept buried for so long. And yet, as much as he's terrified of the future, of what this could mean for both of you, there's something almost peaceful in his presence now, as if admitting the truth has, for just a moment, allowed him to let go of the weight he’s been carrying.

“I don’t want to drag you into my mess,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But I want you to know, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Whatever it costs.”

You look at him, really look at him, seeing all the layers that lie underneath the bravado, the smirks, and the jokes. The broken man who’s been carrying this burden alone for too long. Your heart aches for him, for everything he's had to endure. And as much as the idea of what he does terrifies you, as much as the danger and uncertainty swirl around the edges of your thoughts, there’s still a part of you that feels steady.

You take a deep breath, your thumb gently rubbing the back of his hand. “I’m scared too, Dean. But I won’t walk away from you. Not because of this. But you’re right, we need to figure out what this means. All of it.”

His gaze softens, the hardness in his face fading just a little. “You don’t have to be a part of this. You don’t have to be involved.”

You shake your head, smiling gently. “I don’t know what the future holds, Dean. But if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that I don’t want to face it without you. Not if you’ll let me.”

The silence stretches between you, but it’s not suffocating anymore. It’s not filled with uncertainty or confusion. It’s a quiet understanding, the kind you only get after sharing something raw and unfiltered. He studies you for a long time, his expression softening, before he finally nods. There’s something fragile in that nod, something unspoken that passes between you.

“I didn’t think you’d say that,” he admits, his voice almost a whisper, like he’s afraid saying it out loud might shatter something delicate. “But I’m glad you did.”

You cup his face softly in both of your hands, a simple gesture that means everything right now. “We’ll figure it out,” you say softly. “Together.”

Dean lets out a breath, like he’s been holding it for a lifetime, and for a moment, the tension in his shoulders loosens. The truth may have ripped through the air, but it’s not the end. It’s only the beginning.

AN: Hi all, I'm baaaack lol. This purely came out of the gif above and took on a mind of it's own 😅 what originally started as a jealousy fic turned into a; show some young Dean love fic 😂 I guess this can be perceived as a more positive outcome of him confessing his true life to someone he loves. I hope you guys enjoy ☺️

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dianawinchester03 · 1 day ago

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Season 3, Episode 3 - Bad Day At Black Rock (Part One)

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Hiiiii. HAPPY NEW YEAR LOVES. It’s been a minute since I’ve updated but I finally hauled my lazy ass and finished up the new episode🤣

Random but the song inspo for this chapter is Best Friend’s Brother by Victoria Justice💀

So my dumbass FORGOT that in the actual show, Ruby revealed herself to be a demon in season 3 episode 2💀I just widdled it into this episode with my own twist, as per usual hahaha.

This chapter stands at 24.7k words combined and this is part 1. Here is part 2! Hope everyone enjoys it🫶

Trigger Warning: mentions of sexual assault towards female character (no sexual assault actually takes place)

____________________________________________

Third Person POV

Aurora, New York

•One Week Later

Sam and Y/N were currently in a diner, both nose deep into information on lores, searching for any type of way to get Dean out of his demon deal. They left Dean back at Y/N’s safehouse, leaving the elder Winchester passed out after having one too many last night and almost getting into a bar fight.

Luckily, he made it out of there intact, thanks to getting hauled out on his ass by Sam and Y/N. His actions earned him multiple smacks to the noggin by his loving girlfriend and a lecture from his caring younger brother while getting driven back to the house. He barely heard a word that went past Sam’s lips since he fell asleep in Y/N’s lap in the back seat halfway through the drive.

Then after getting tossed over his brother's shoulder from the Impala to the room and stuffed into a thick fluffy blanket, Y/N made it her duty to coddle and love a half conscious, drunken Dean Winchester. Changing him out of his clothes, which he ended up barfing all over. Then having to clean up and help him shower while he yapped about “how sorry he was for ruining her jacket”, “how much he loved her” and “how much his little brother meant to him”

All while threatening to castrate her in her sleep if she uttered a word of his drunken ramblings to Sam. Y/N simply snickered at him while she placed fresh clothes on his body, tucked him away, then whispering a soft, “I’ll never tell him your secret, charming. No matter how sweet they are” Before swaddling him away into her arms and falling soundly asleep.

Now back to the current time, since they’d been on the road for the past week, Jo took a detour for a case in Long Island with her mom. She said she’d be back in a few days tops but it had already been a week and no signs of the Harvelle ladies. Sam was on his third cup of coffee, growing antsy by the second.

Y/N was busy typing away on her laptop, her eyes flickering up to Sam when she noticed him finished his third cup. “Over caffeinating is not gonna make her call faster, Samuel. She’s fine” Y/N assured him in a deadpan tone as she scrolled through a dark website. “I know that” Sam retorted with a huff, “I just miss her” He said in a low tone as he fidgeted with his coffee mug, staring into the now empty cup. Y/N glanced up from her laptop at him with a raised brow.

Sam let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair, rolling his eyes when he saw the look on her face. "But it's been a week already. You know how dangerous hunting can be. And they took a job on Long Island, no less. Not exactly a hotspot for peaceful demons and ghosts." Y/N snorted in amusement, "And there it is" She shook her head as she wrapped her fingers around her own mug.

Sam raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "What do you mean by, 'And there it is'?" he asked, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. She shot her best friend an unimpressed look before reaching over and tapping him on his forehead. Sam swatted her hand away with a scoff, trying to look annoyed. "What the hell was that for?" Y/N raised a brow in response. "You're getting all flustered, like a schoolboy who just got dumped by his high school sweetheart." She smirked as she continued, leaning back in her seat.

"And it doesn't do you any good worrying yourself sick over it. You know they can handle themselves just fine. Besides, I'm sure Jo will call as soon as they finish dealing with whatever's going down in that sleepy beach town." Sam huffed out a sigh, hating how well she could read him. "I hate you" He grumbled, beginning to bite at his thumbnail as he scribbled down details to a possible soul-ritual on a piece of paper.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "No, you don't." She glanced down at the notes on the table, her eyes skimming over the page. "Any progress on finding anything that can reverse a deal?" Her fingers tapped against the rim of her mug as she took a sip. He shook his head as he ran a hand over his jaw. "Not much." he confessed. "Most of these soul-retrieving rituals seem like some sort of voodoo bullshit. Nothing that's actually gonna get us anywhere." He groaned in frustration, tossing the pen down on the table.

Just then, a sound of the diner door bells jingling echoed through the crowded diner. They paid no attention to the patron entering, indulging in their own conversation. The duo was caught off guard when a familiar face sat next to Y/N, across from Sam. “Hello, Sam” The blonde haired woman smirked at the younger Winchester, paying no mind to Y/N. Their eyes widened in surprise and a tinge of fear. "You" Y/N gasped.

“You've been following us since Lincoln" Sam pointed out at Ruby, slamming a book over his paper as Y/N slammed her laptop shut. "Not much gets by you, huh?" Ruby mused as she reached into Y/N's plate, stealing one of her fries "Hey! Get your own bitch" Y/N exclaimed as she snatched her plate back, giving Ruby a death glare. Sam leaned forward in his seat, trying to ignore Y/N's obvious anger. He kept his eyes trained on the demon.

Ruby moaned as she bit into the fries, "Mmm, these are amazing. It's like deep fried crack. Try some" Her last few words had an underlying skittish tone as she smirked at Sam. He scoffed in disgust at her words as Y/N continued to glare at her, gritting her teeth. Something about this chick didn't rub her the right way. Ruby's smirk only widened as she watched Y/N's expression.

"Calm down, kitten, you'll give yourself a stroke," she quipped, stealing another fry from the now guarded plate. Y/N clenched her jaw at the nickname, "Cut the bullshit" She spat. "That knife you had, you can kill demons with that thing?" She asked, keeping her fries guarded. “Sure comes in handy when I have to swoop in and save damsels in distress” Ruby quipped back, causing Sam and Y/N to roll their eyes in annoyance.

“Where'd you get it?” Sam asked as Ruby slid a plate over, squirting a hefty amount of ketchup into his plate, now digging into Sam’s fries, “Skymall” Sam and Y/N scoffed again, “Why are you following us?” He asked. “I’m interested in you” Ruby smiled as she chewed, “Because you're tall. And I love a tall man”

Y/N couldn't hold back the eye roll as Ruby continued to flirt with Sam. "Can you stop trying to charm the pants off of him?" She grumbled. "He's taken, by a much hotter blonde, thank you very much. So I'd suggest you scurry along back to whatever hole you crawled out of" Y/N growled, defending Sam in Jo's absence, glaring at Ruby once more.

Ruby raised a brow at Y/N with a smirk. "Ooh, the little kitten's got claws" She teased as she took another one of Sam's fries, much to his annoyance. Sam quickly intervened, trying to keep focus on the reason for why Ruby was really here. "Cut it out" He snapped, "And there's the whole antichrist thing" Ruby added, dipping her fry into the ketchup.

“Excuse me?” The two hunters echoed in unison, suddenly intrigued by what the hell she was talking about. Y/N was on the edge of her seat, her previous annoyance replaced by curiosity. “You know, the generation of psychic kids. Yellow eyed demon rounds you up, celebrity deathmatch ensues. You’re the last two survivors” Ruby mused, taking up Y/N’s mug of coffee to sip on it.

“How do you know about that?” Sam asked as Y/N remained dumbfounded. “I'm a good hunter” Ruby shrugged as she leaned back into her seat, placing the mug back down onto the table, “So, Yellow Eyes had big plans for you two” Ruby smirked, “Had, being the keyword” Y/N bit back as Sam glared at Ruby.

“Oh, yeah yeah yeah. That’s right. Ding-ding, the demon’s dead. Good job with that.” The demon mused, “Doesn’t change the fact that you two are special..in that Anthony Michael Hall and Jennifer Love Hewitt, ESP-vision kind of way-”

“No. No, that stuff’s not happening to me anymore. Not since Yellow Eyes died” Sam cut her off, “Well I’m thinking you’re still big deals. I mean, after all that business with your moms” These words from Ruby made Sam and Y/N’s heads snap in her direction.

Y/N’s eyes widened in shock and fear, “What about our mothers?” She asked, her heart starting to beat violently against her ribs. Ruby casually leaned her chair back, taking another sip of Y/N’s coffee, “You know, what happened to their friends” She mused. Sam and Y/N exchanged looks as their brows furrowed in confusion but they tried to mask it with hard gazes.

“You guys don’t know” Ruby playfully gasped, Sam’s nostrils flared as Y/N clenched her fists, tearing her eyes away from Ruby. “You’ve got some catching up to do, friends” Ruby smirked as she took out a pen from her pocket and took Sam’s hand into hers.

Y/N’s heart pounded violently in her chest at the sight of Ruby grabbing Sam’s hand, but she tried to keep a straight face. Sam snatched his hand back from her touch, recoiling in disgust as she tried to write on his hand.

“Don’t touch me” He snapped, his voice cold and serious. Ruby chuckled at his reaction, “Awh, that’s no way to treat a girl” She pouted mockingly, taking his hand again, “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, trying to swat her away with his other hand, but Ruby was persistent.

“Seriously, dude, knock it off” Y/N snapped, noting Sam’s discomfort. She shoved Ruby’s hand harshly away from Sam’s. “Easy, kitten” Ruby scoffed, rolling her eyes at the psychic as she took up a napkin, waving it their faces before scribbling her number onto it.

Y/N’s blood boiled as she heard her nickname leave Ruby’s lips. "Call me that one more time, I'll cut your goddamn tongue out" Y/N sneered, her expression hardening as she clenched her jaw. Ruby simply chuckled, unaffected by the threat as she slid the napkin with her number on it across the table to Sam.

“Go look into your mothers’ pals and then give me a call, and we’ll talk again” Ruby said in a sultry tone before getting up from the booth. Y/N watched as Ruby walked away from the booth, feeling a sense of relief and hatred at the same time. Her eyes turned to Sam, who was watching the demon through the window.

“Please tell me we’re not actually gonna call her” Y/N’s voice was stern, but with an undertone of concern. Sam sighed, taking in the information that was just given to him. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about what she just said about our moms?” Sam asked lowly, contemplating looking into it.

Y/N leaned back in the booth cushions, crossing her arms as she thought about it. Part of her was curious and intrigued about the mention of her mother, but the other half was still on edge and skeptical about Ruby's motives. "I am, but I don't trust her" Y/N admitted, her eyes narrowing.

"Who's to say she's not lying just to get our attention?" Y/N continued, watching as Ruby's figure disappeared from view. Sam thought for a moment, fiddling with the napkin in his hands. "If she's telling the truth, then it's something we should look into" He said, his tone serious and cautious.

Y/N sighed, nodding her head. “Alright, I’m gonna go order some breakfast for Dean. Drop me off at the house and I’ll meet you at the library after” she told him as she slid out from the booth, walking over to the counter to order Dean some breakfast.

Sam watched her go before letting out a sigh himself. He looked down at the napkin in his hands, Ruby's number scribbled on it. He folded the napkin and shoved it in his pocket before getting up from the booth.

•One Hour Later

Y/N watched as the Impala roared down the dirt street with Sam behind the wheel before turning a corner and disappearing from sight. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and started making her way back to her safehouse.

Her mind kept going back to that knife, she had an itching feeling towards it. She forced herself to shove it to the back of her mind as she slid the key into the door. Y/N entered the empty, making her way up the stairs and to the room where she found Dean, still fast asleep, tangled in the sheets and sprawled across the bed. She chuckled to herself at the sight, setting his breakfast down on the nightstand.

She sat at the edge of the bed, gently pushing some of the hair at the side of his head behind his ear. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, his temple, his cheek and lastly at the dimple below his chin before she pushed herself up from the bed. She stopped in her tracks when she remembered he would wake up with a banging hangover soon, so she shifted her gaze to her duffel bag.

She unzipped it and rummaged through it, coming up with a pack of ibuprofens, a bottle of Tylenol and a water bottle. She set the pills down next to his breakfast, along with the water. She then dug through her bag again, pulling out a pack of sticky notes and a pen from her pencil case.

Y/N scribbled a note and stuck it on the lid of the pill’s bottle that read:

‘Hangover cure. Eat your breakfast, take two and watch an old movie on my laptop. Doing research with Sammy, be back in a few hours. Love, your ESP Thing’

She signed it off, before picking up her things and shoving them back into her bag. She stuck another with a little heart drawn and colored in with the pen, saying: ‘Make sure you hydrate, dummy’, onto the water bottle, next to the breakfast, hoping Dean wouldn’t go batshit when he wakes up alone.

Just as she set her bag down onto the bed, she saw a familiar blue glow omit from the bag. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she watched her bag glow a soft blue. She quickly knelt down at the foot of the bed and unzipped the duffle bag, her eyes widening as she was greeted by the glowing knife.

“What the-” She gasped, quickly shutting her mouth when she heard a light groan come from Dean. She tiptoed over, hoping she didn’t wake him, but he simply rolled over onto his belly and began snoring again. He seemed to still be asleep so she let out a soft sigh of relief before bringing her attention back onto the knife.

She took in the blade’s appearance, her eyes tracing over the intricate runes and symbols etched along the edges. She was still in shock as she reached a shaky hand out to hold the blade, watching as the light seemed to glow brighter at her touch.

None of this made sense, she knew she gave it to Bobby. So how did the knife reappear back into her possession? This couldn’t mean anything good. So y/n quickly fished out her phone from her pocket and began dialing Bobby’s number.

Just as she was about to click the call button, her finger froze. She shifted her gaze back to the knife that seemed to glow softly in protest.

No, I have to tell him. Knives don’t just appear out of thin air. Y/N’s inner thoughts pleaded with her.

“Fuck” she muttered, letting her hand fall back down to her side as she shut her phone with a loud click. Her eyes stayed fixated on the knife, her mind racing with all the possible explanations for the blade's sudden reappearance in her duffle.

She sighed, her mind conflicted and confused, as the knife continued to emit a soft glow. She knew she should call Bobby and inform him. But for some reason, a strong force inside her screamed at her to keep it from everyone, even Dean.

Y/N softly groaned, not too loud to wake up her boyfriend. Before tearing her eyes away from the knife, she placed it gently on the bed. She sat on the edge and placed her head in her hands, frustrated at the internal struggle going on inside her head. Her thoughts were swirling around the blade that was still sat next to her, the glowing blue light that seemed to call to her.

She knew it was stupid. Why was she feeling this attachment to a goddamn knife? And more importantly, why did the idea of losing the knife fill her with more dread than she’s ever felt before?

"Why me?" she muttered to herself, her eyes darting between the knife on the bed and the still asleep Dean on the bed. She knew she should call Bobby, but something was holding her back. She was torn between listening to her instincts and going with her head.

She succumbed to the pressure and snatched up the knife, sticking it into her black leather knee high boots. She convinced herself that keeping this knife would ensure that her family remain protected, seeing as it somehow exorcised two of the Seven Deadly Sins back to hell and the knife Ruby had killed two others.

Maybe she could somehow save Dean from going to hell. Who knows?

Y/N took a deep breath, her resolve now set. She stood up from the bed, her boots thumping against the thin carpet. She took up her motorcycle helmet from the floor and the keys from the nightstand as she took one more glance at the sleeping form of Dean. Her heart felt painfully heavy as a small content smile spread across her lips.

She pressed her palm to her lips, blowing a kiss towards him before making her down the stairs and towards the front door, quietly slipping out and closing the door behind her. Y/N stepped out of the house and took a deep breath. The cool air felt refreshing as she made her way over to Quinn parked outside in the yard, slinging her helmet on and strapping it.

She flung her leg over the bike and settled in, grabbing her keys as she started the engine. The bike roared to life, the sound echoing through the empty parking lot. With a final quick glance back at the house, Y/N took off down the street, headed towards the library to meet Sam.

____________________________________________

•Time Montage

Y/N groaned, rubbing her stiff neck. The library was practically empty except for a handful of other students, most of them with their heads buried in laptops or textbooks. Y/N leaned back in her chair, her eyes going blurry from staring at the computer screen.

She stretched her arms above her head, feeling the tension roll off her shoulders as she spoke into her phone. “Hi, I needed to check some facts with your…uh..secretary about a fire that occurred on November 24th, 2006 in Lawrence, Kansas” She said as Sam bit his thumb nail nervously.

Her breath hitched in her throat upon the woman’s answer, "Okay, thank you so much." She added, before hanging up and turning her attention to Sam, she smacked his hand away from his mouth. “Are you insane? You're gonna bite your nails down to stubs" She scolded, before he could even respond.

She then stuck her own nails into her mouth, now biting her own nails nervously. Sam shot her an unimpressed look, shaking his head.

“This is Police Chief, Phil Jones” Sam said into the phone, making sure no one heard.

“Hardecker was his name….Okay. Great. I’m just trying to find out the day he died” Y/N asked as she pressed the phone between her shoulder and cheek, typing away on her laptop. “July 13th?” She and Sam shared a look of horror.

“Can you check the records for me for a Robert Campbell and a Marcel Blackwood, July 19th 2001” Sam asked the coroner over the phone, waiting patiently. “Both dead on arrival?” His tone dropped.

Y/N listened to the conversation, her eyes scanning over the laptop screen. She felt a sense of dread growing in the pit of her stomach as they continued, scratching off both names from the list.

“What I’m after is the cause of death” Sam grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, “Heart condition?” He tilted his head in confusion as Y/N furrowed her brows. “What the fuck?” She mouthed to him as she scratched off the name. He placed his hand up, telling her to wait. “Wasn't he a cardiac surgeon? Wouldn’t he have known about that?”

“I’m looking for information on Mrs. Wallace’s death….three deaths? Who were the others?” Y/N’s eyes widened, running a hand over her mouth. Sam groaned as he scratched off another name on the list. “Ed Campbell and Jackson Blackwood” Y/N ran her hand over her face again as Sam scratched off the last remaining two names on the list.

“No, that’s all I needed. Thank you very much” Y/N finished before turning the phone off. Y/N let out a deep sigh, her mind racing with the new information. “Oh my god.” Sam muttered. "This is crazy," she muttered back in agreement, her eyes moving from the laptop screen to Sam.

____________________________________________

Now in a motel room they booked for a couple of hours, Ruby stood across from them as Y/N glared at her once again and Sam stood with his arms crossed. “They’re dead. All of my mom’s friends, all of y/n’s mom’s friends, their doctors, their uncles. Everyone who ever knew them, systematically wiped off the map one at a time”

“Someone went through a hell of a lot of trouble trying to cover their tracks” Y/N scoffed as she crushed the bud to her burst of cigarette in the ashtray. “Yup. Yellow Eyes Demon” Ruby deadpanned. “So, what’s your deal? You show up wherever Sam is like a creepy stalker, you know all about us, all our moms” Y/N spat accusationally, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Just trying to help," Ruby responded, her tone almost innocent. Sam gave Y/N a warning glance, silently asking her to keep her temper in check. Y/N let out a frustrated sigh, her eyes narrowing at Ruby. She didn't trust her one bit, but she couldn't deny that Ruby seemed to have information that they needed.

Y/N let out a frustrated huff, her fingers tapping against her wrist. “Help us? How?” she retorted, her voice dripping with skepticism. “I already told you, I’m just a-” Sam cut Ruby off, “Oh, right. Right. Yeah, yeah. Just a Hunter? Just some Hunter who just happened to know more about our families than we do” Sam shot back with dripping sarcasm.

Y/N clenched her fists, feeling a surge of anger rise within her for no reason whatsoever, she couldn’t figure out why she was extremely snappy but she wanted nothing more than to punch Ruby in the face, but she kept her cool, barely. "Yeah, a 'just a Hunter' who seems to know a hell of a lot more than we do" she gritted out between clenched teeth.

Sam shot her another warning glance, silently urging her to calm down and stay focused. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. “Just tell us who you are,” Sam said, asking Ruby, trying to remain calm. “Sam, it-” Ruby chuckled, shaking her head as Sam stalked over to her form. She was leaning against a table.

“Just tell us who you are” Y/N repeated, trying to remain calm also. “It doesn’t matter,” Ruby shook her head. "Of course it matters!" Y/N snapped out of frustration, "You know who we are, what we are, and all about our families! You know things that we don't-"

“Fine,” Ruby said calmly, cutting Y/N off mid sentence. She shut her eyes before opening them back up. Her eyes flashed over a ball of black, indicating she was a demon. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she stared at Ruby's eyes, horror and confusion coursing through her veins. Sam’s eyes widened in horror as he backed away, scrambling over to his bag for holy water. “Think twice before going for that holy water” Ruby mused,

“Give me one reason I should” Sam growled. “I’m here to help you guys” Ruby shrugged, this made Y/N snap, instantly grabbing the demon by her collar. “Like hell you are!” Y/N exclaimed, her voice laced with anger and resentment as she slammed her into the wall. Anger rose in Ruby’s veins, but she shook with fear when Y/N pulled out her knife from her jacket.

The dagger glowed fiercely in her right hand as she pressed it to Ruby’s throat. Sam stood frozen, “How the hell did you get that back? I thought you gave it to Bobby?” His voice shook. "It doesn’t matter," Y/N spat, her eyes still fixed on Ruby. A mix of anger and hatred in her eyes. “Is this some kind of fucking joke?” She growled at the demon.

“Is this some kind of fucking joke?” She growled at the demon. “God’s honest truth…or whatever” Ruby snorted, raising her right hand before dropping it. She winced as Y/N pressed the blade harder against her throat. “You know, I could kill you right here” She shot back at Y/N.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Y/N's mouth, “I’m the one with a knife to your throat right now that could send your ass back to hell, so I'd say the advantage is mine” She grinned menacingly. “You’re a demon” Sam spat, grappling his holy water in his hand as he stalked over to Y/N and Ruby. “Don’t be such a racist” Ruby rolled her eyes, “I’m here because I want to help you. And I can, if you guys trust me”

"Trust?” Sam scoffed incredulously, holding up his holy water. “Sam, Y/N, calm down” Ruby pleaded. "Start talking. All those murders, what was the demon trying to cover up?” Sam demanded. Ruby didn’t answer so Y/N gripped her by her throat and slammed her back into the wall.

"Answer the question” Y/N ordered, her voice trembling with anger as she held the knife to the Demon's throat. "Okay, okay, okay" Ruby choked out, her voice strained. “I don’t know what he was trying to cover up.” She admitted, “What happened to our moms?” Y/N demanded as Sam shot Ruby a nasty glare. “I honestly don’t know! That’s what I’m trying to find out. All I know is that it’s about you two”

"What?” Y/N and Sam exclaimed in unison, their eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. "Why would it be about us?" Y/N demanded, her grip on Ruby loosening slightly, her expression a mix of anger and curiosity. Ruby scoffed, “Don’t you get it? It’s all about you two, what happened to your moms, what happened to their friends. They’re trying to cover up what he did to you two”

“And I wanna help you guys figure it out” Ruby added with a shrug, her eyes fixated on Y/N’s knife. “I told you to be careful with that,” She said with a dark smile. Y/N bristled at the demon's words, her grip on the knife tightening again as she pressed it harder against Ruby's throat. "Why would you wanna help us?” Sam spat.

“I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Sam and Y/N. Not all of us want the same thing. Me? I wanna help you from time to time. That’s all. Like right now, I’m helping you by saying that knife you’ve got…you don’t know what it’s gonna do to you” Ruby smirked. "What do you mean by that?” Sam questioned, his eyes narrowing as he clutched the cap of the holy water bottle tighter.

“She’s full of shit, Sam” Y/N snapped, narrowing her eyes at Ruby. "Am I?" Ruby sneered, trying to shake her head. "You want to believe that? Okay.“ Y/N pressed the blade harder into her throat, a small trickle of blood running down her skin.

“How can I not sense you?” Y/N asked, gritting her teeth. "Maybe because you’re not that good” Ruby mused with a smirk. Y/N fought the urge to stab the demon right then and there. So she reeled her back again, slamming her into the wall to knock the wind out of her. “How?!” Sam bellowed, throwing holy water into the demon’s face.

“Goddammit!” Ruby exclaimed, her eyes squeezed shut as the holy water burned her skin. A small smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's mouth, a twisted satisfaction in her eyes as she watched the demon's pain. “Talk!” Y/N demanded again.

Ruby grimaced, looking up at Y/N with a glare. "Fine. Let go of me first." She growled. Y/N rolled her eyes but reluctantly loosened her grip on the demon, allowing her to stand upright. Sam stood ready to strike again with the holy water.

"Talk" Y/N repeated again, her voice firm. Ruby rolled her eyes, scoffing as she peeled off her brown leather jacket. She allowed it to plop to the ground before revealing the symbol etched into her skin. It was practically burnt in, the symbol was the exact same one Y/N spotted on Envy.

Y/N and Sam stared in shock at the symbol on Ruby's arm. "What the hell is that?" Sam asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. "That..." Ruby drawled, gesturing to the symbol with her left hand, "...is a protection symbol. It hides my presence, aura, whatever the fuck you wanna call it. From people like you” She stated as she pointed to Y/N.

"You're telling me that's why I can't sense you?" Y/N demanded, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the knife tighter. "Exactly" Ruby nodded, a smug smile on her face. Y/N resisted the urge to stab her right there and then. “I don’t believe this,” Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

“Oh believe it” Ruby snarked, “And if you let me help you…heh…there’s something in it for you” Ruby whispered. “What could you possibly-” Sam scoffed but Ruby interrupted them, “I could help you save your brother. I can help you save Dean” Y/N and Sam stiffened at the mention of Dean's name.

Y/N froze. Her heart skipped a beat, and her grip on the knife faltered slightly.

____________________________________________

“Because demon, that’s why!” Dean shouted at Sam and Y/N. “Because the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon, you go for the holy water. You don’t chat” He ridiculed the two as if they were children.

They were now back at Y/N’s safehouse, currently in the kitchen. They woke Dean and spilled the beans about Ruby’s true nature. As much as one side of Y/N’s mind screamed at her to not tell Dean about the knife’s sudden reappearance, Sam insisted, begging her to do so.

He stuck the fact in her head that in general, she wouldn’t keep these types of secrets from them. So from the knife’s sudden reappearance and Y/N’s insistence to keep it a secret from Dean of all people. It couldn’t mean anything good.

“No one was chatting, Dean. Y/N had her up against the wall with that weird ass knife. She almost looked scared!” Sam defended, “Exactly, she couldn’t do us shit even if she wanted to” Y/N aided to Sam’s defense, crossing her arms over her chest. “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you use the damn thing and send her ass back to hell?” Dean shot back.

Y/N gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowing as she clenched her fists. "Goddammit, Dean, it's not that simple!” She exploded, her frustration boiling over. “What’s not simple about exorcising a fucking demon?!” Dean exclaimed, pushing himself up from the bed. “She said she might be able to help us out, Dean!” Sam revealed as Dean made his way over to the fridge.

“How?!” Dean snapped, opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. Sam and Y/N exchanged a skeptical look. Y/N shook her head, urging Sam not to tell Dean because knowing her boyfriend, he’d yell at them for wanting to save him from going to hell.

Sam sighed, knowing what Y/N was thinking. He knew Dean would be furious if he found out they were planning a way to save him. But deep down, he knew it was the right thing to do.

"Well?” Dean muttered, standing there with the beer in his hand, his eyes darting from Y/N's face to Sam's, waiting for one of them to say something. "We..." Sam started, his voice trembling. He glanced at Y/N, silently begging her to take over.

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she spoke, her voice low and steady. "She told us she could help you, okay?" She began, glancing at Dean for his reaction. “Help you out of the crossroads deal” Dean was in utter disbelief, he was almost amused at how naive his brother and girlfriend were being.

“What’s wrong with you two, huh? She’s lyin’. You’ve gotta know that, don’t you?” Dean scoffed as she took a swig of his beer. “She knows what your weakness is, it’s me!” Dean shouted. "We’re not idiots, Dean" Y/N retorted, her voice laced with anger. "We know she’s a demon but she might be telling the truth." Dean let out a harsh, humorless laugh as he took a swig of his beer.

"How gullible are you really?" He sneered, shaking his head in disbelief. Y/N looked hurt by his response, it made her laugh humorlessly. Sam’s head darted up by his brother’s words, “Dean, listen." Sam tried to reason with his older brother, his words firm. “We’re desperate here man. This is your life we’re talking about.”

“What else did she say?” Dean asked, Sam and Y/N exchanged another look. Remembering Ruby’s words about their mom’s deaths being all about them. The two’s eyes went wide for a split second, both urging each other not to say a word about it.

“Guys?” Dean urged them to talk. "Not much" Sam lied, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "Nothing" Y/N said at the same time as Sam. Dean raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Nothing, okay?!” They exclaimed in unison. “For Christ’s sake, we’re not talking about trusting her. We’re talking about using her!” Y/N exclaimed as she placed her hands on her hips.

“I mean, we’re at war here, right? And we don’t know jackshit about the enemy. We don’t know where they are, what they’re doing. I mean hell, we don’t even know what the fuck they want!” Sam aided Y/N’s point. Dean’s eyes flicked between Y/N and Sam, his expression turning serious. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” He muttered in disbelief.

“Hear us out, charming.” Y/N pleaded, Dean’s face softened upon looking into her eyes. She strode over to him, taking his hands into hers. “This Ruby chick knows more than we ever will find out on our own. Now, yes, it’s a risk. We know that, but we need to take it” Y/N stated softly.

Dean let out a long, deep breath as he stared into Y/N's eyes, his gaze unwavering. His eyes dropped to their intertwined hands before looking over at his brother, who wore the signature puppy dog eye look Y/N was sporting. He looked at them with disbelief, “You guys are okay, right? I mean, are you feeling okay?” He asked Y/N and Sam.

Sam and Y/N groaned exasperated as Y/N snatched her hands away from Dean, “Yes, we’re fine. Why are you always asking that?!” Sam exclaimed, running a hand through his hair as a phone started to ring. “Because it’s my job to make sure you guys are fine” Dean retorted, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s.

Y/N rolled her eyes, letting out a scoff as they all checked their pockets. “It’s not mine,” Sam said, holding up his phone. Dean checked his pockets before shaking his head, “Nope”

“It's not mine either” Y/N said, her brows creasing in confusion as the ringing of the phone continued. “Well where the hell is it coming from?” Dean grumbled as he scanned the room. Y/N’s eyes darted to the living room, “I think it’s my dad’s” She muttered as she crossed the room and headed into the living room, “F/N’s?” Dean questioned, confused.

He followed behind, leaning against the doorframe as Y/N crouched, unzipping her other duffel bag and digging through it. Sam stood behind his brother, his eyes watching her. After a second of rummaging through the bag, she retrieved her father's old flip phone. “Yeah, I keep his phone charger up in case any of his old contacts call” she confirmed, holding up the ringing phone. She flipped it open, pressing it to her ear, “Hello?”

Y/N’s brow furrowed in concern as she held the phone in her hand, her eyes darting to the brothers. Dean’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as they silently listened. “Uh, no this is not Edgar Cayce. This is his daughter….” She lied fluidly as she shrugged at the boys.

“Oh- nonono, don’t call the police. I’ll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just, uh…? Can you just lock it back up for me? Great-“ She cleared her throat before gesturing for Sam or Dean to get a paper and pen with her free hand. “Uh- Dad was always bad at writing stuff down, do you have the address so I can write it down?”

Sam handed Y/N a piece of paper and pen, watching her intently as she wrote the address down. “Uh-huh…right. Thanks a lot” She muttered into the phone before hanging it up and turning around to face the boys. “Did my dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?” Y/N asked Dean with a raised eyebrow. “What?” Dean gaped, confused.

“Outside of Buffalo?” She added as Sam also gaped, “No way” Sam muttered, shocked, “Yeah. And someone just broke into it” Y/N nodded, tossing Dean the phone. Dean caught the phone with ease, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he looked at Y/N. “Your dad had more secrets than I thought” He said with a small scoff.

“Apparently” Y/N muttered, crossing her arms over her chest “But the question is” Sam began, a curious look in his eyes, “What was in there?”

____________________________________________

Black Rock, New York

“Man” Dean chuckled to himself as he shook his head. The trio were now in an elevator to the storage facility, heading up to the room F/N had. “What?” Sam asked, “Just F/N. You know? Him and dad with their secrets. Spend all this time with them and it’s like we barely knew em” Dean snorted. Y/N chuckled in agreement as the elevator came to a stop.

“Well, we’re about to learn something” She said, leaning off the wall as the boys lifted the shaft door up. All three of them stepped out, their footsteps echoing through the hall. They started walking forwards, passing countless other storage units. Y/N lead them, pulling out the key from her pocket as she stopped in front of the one labeled “159”.

She inserted the key into the lock before twisting it and opening the door. In front of them was the dark storage room, filled with countless boxes. They all fished out their flashlights, shining it through as they entered the storage room. Sam then shone his light on the ground, his eyes were met with a large devils trap. “No demons allowed” He muttered as Dean pointed out the bloodied footsteps. “Blood”

Y/N crouched down, shining her light from side to side. “Check this out, fellas” She pointed out the tripwire at the entrance. “Damn, your dad was prepared” Dean muttered as knelt down next to Y/N, following the tripwire with his light. He chuckled to himself, a grin forming on his face as he stood back up. “Classic F/N” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Whoever broke in here got tagged” Sam said aloud. “Daddy dearest” Y/N muttered sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, ignoring the painful stab she felt in her heart at the thought of her father keeping this a secret from her. Dean frowned when he noticed the twinge of angst in her tone. Instead, she focused back on the job.

“I got two sets of boot treads here, this was a two man job” Y/N stated as she stood back up, Dean’s eyes followed the direction her flashlight was shining, following the footprint. “And our friend with the buckshot in him, looks like he kept walking” he added, his eyes following the path of the footprints as he continued further into the storage room. Sam and Y/N followed behind him.

“So what’s the deal? You think Dad and F/N would do work here or something?” Sam inquired, “Living the high life as usual” Dean snorted, he shook his head in amusement when his eyes landed on the skeleton of a gator head. Dean’s eyes landed on a trophy, he picked it up, dusting it off, “1995”

Sam’s head darted over to him, immediately recognizing the trophy. “No way” He gasped, taking it from Dean. “That’s my division championship soccer trophy. I can’t believe dad kept this” He chuckled as he dusted it off, “Yes, that’s probably the closest you ever came to being a boy” Dean snorted in amusement as he eyes landed on a familiar gun.

“Oh, wow. This is my first sawed-off” He grinned, taking it up before turning to Y/N. “I made it myself in sixth grade” He bragged, laughing as he cocked the gun. Sam chuckled as Y/N let out an amused laugh. “Of course you’ve been making guns since sixth grade” She mumbled as they continued walking. She paused when her light landed on something.

“Hey, check this out” She said as she crouched, shining her light behind a pile of boxes. A bright smile stretched across her face when she saw a trophy from Sioux Falls High for MVP Varsity Cheerleader with her name engraved on it. Y/N picked the trophy up, delicately dusting it off as she stared down at the plaque with a smile. “Dad even kept my MVP cheerleading trophy” She chuckled.

Sam chuckled as he and Dean peered over her shoulder, their eyes glancing over the trophy. “You still got that uniform?” Dean teased, a smirk on his face. That earned him a playful gasp and smack to his chest from Y/N as Sam groaned dramatically, “Kill me now” He gagged.

“I thought I was hot in it” Y/N retorted, a smirk on her face, which Dean was quick to agree to, “Oh, you still are in it” He winked, to which Sam groaned aloud once again.

Dean and Y/N laughed as she knelt down again to rummage through a box. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as she pulled some photo albums out, opening it up. “Oh my gosh” She muttered as her eyes scanned over a few pictures.

Sam and Dean were quick to crouch down, peering over her shoulder to get a look at the photos. Y/N held a particular picture up. Dean’s breath hitched at the sight of the photograph, his eyes widening slightly as Sam stared at it in shock.

In the picture were Y/N, Dean, Sam, F/N and John. They stood with their arms wrapped around one another, smiling brightly at the camera. Their faces were much younger and more youthful, filled with genuine happiness. “Wow,” Dean muttered, staring at the photo in shock. “When was this taken?” Sam asked aloud.

“1987” Y/N stated as she flipped through the book. It led straight up to 1999 with various pictures. Sam and Dean were glued to the photos as Y/N flipped through them. “Wow, look at you guys” Dean chuckled as an old picture of five-year-old Sam and Y/N dressed up for Halloween as Wonder Woman and Batman. Their outfits looked homemade, the trio snorted in amusement at the picture.

“And what the hell are you supposed to be?” Sam questioned with a chuckle, pointing at a picture of a 9-year-old Dean, dressed in the most hideous of outfits. “A pimp..?” Y/N mumbled, letting out a loud laugh as Sam and Dean immediately burst out into laughter.

“I was Superman! Bobby made me that outfit!” Dean defended. “He made you that?!” Sam practically wheezed, clutching his stomach in laughter as Y/N let out hysterical laughter. She flipped the page again, her jaw dropping when she found their prom pictures. “No way!” She laughed as Sam covered his face in shame.

“Oh my God, I look like a fetus” He groaned at the picture of him hopping up on Y/N’s back for a piggy back ride, all while in his white tux and Y/N wore her black dress. The piggy back ride was per Dean’s request, just for his own shits and gigs.

Dean bursted out laughing as he pointed at the multiple pictures of Sam cringing and screaming because Y/N was jumping up and down and he was so scared she would drop him, “I remember this, she said you weighed like a baby gorilla!” Dean cackled, wiping his tears away from his eyes from laughing so much. Y/N’s face started to heat up when she looked at her picture with Dean.

Dean wore his black tux, his shaggy hair neatly slicked back. Their bodies were flush against each other. His eyes locked onto hers, a hint of longing and desire flashing through them. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph” She muttered as she traced over the picture.

“You wanted me sooo bad” Dean teased, poking his girlfriend's cheek, a twinge of cockiness in his tone. Y/N’s head whipped to his direction, playfully smacking away his hand, “Hey! You wanted me just as much, shut up” She defended with a grumble, Dean snickered in amusement though he didn’t deny it.

Y/N shook her head as she continued flipping, her eyes widening when she landed on a picture of her and Xander in 2001. She was sitting on his lap on the porch of her safehouse. She bullied Sam into taking the picture of them kissing so she could keep it for memories.

She quickly snapped the book shut before Dean could see it, “Okay! Enough of that” She said quickly, tossing it back into the box. Sam chuckled, a smirk on his face as he watched Y/N frantically slam the book shut. “Why did you slam that so fast?” Dean questioned, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity as he peered up at her.

Y/N’s internally panicked but played it off like it was nothing. “Nothing, nothing. Just say a spider coming up the spine” She said casually, “Oh, what’s that?” She pointed to a grated gate to the back of the room. Changing the subject. It was chained and locked prior but the lock was busted open, presumably with a sledgehammer.

Dean’s head snapped over to where she was pointing, his eyes narrowing as he spotted the busted open lock. “What the hell?” He muttered, standing up as he approached it. Sam and Y/N followed close behind. Sam reached over and pushed the door inwards, a loud creaking from the metal echoed through the room. It was filled with all sorts of arsenal.

Their mouths fell agape as they peered around the room. “Son of a fucking bitch” “Jesus fucking Christ” Dean and Y/N gasped in unison, they looked like kids in a candy store. Sam let out a loud whistle, “Holy shit”. Dean was the first to venture in, a grin spread across his face as he looked around. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me” He practically laughed in excitement as he picked up an old Colt .45 off the table.

“Look at this, they had land mines” Y/N pointed out as she scanned the area. “Which they didn’t take,” Dean pointed out as he placed the gun down. He and Y/N knowing shared a look. “Or the guns…I guess they knew what they were after, huh?” She added as she turned to Sam. The younger Winchester wore a skeptical look on his face as he shone his light on some old wooden boxes.

“Hey Y/N/N, check these out. You see these symbols?” Y/N made her way over to him, squinting her eyes as she looked at the boxes. “Yeah, that’s binding magic” She said aloud, pointing at one of the symbols. Sam and Y/N exchanged a wide eyed look as Dean looked confused, “These are curse boxes” Sam said aloud,

“Curse boxes. Aren’t those supposed to keep the evil mojo in, right? Kinda like the pandora deal?” Dean questioned. “Yeah, yeah. They’re built to contain the power of the cursed object.” Y/N nodded in confirmation. “Dad’s journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff, you know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes. He never did say where they’d end up” Dean stated as Sam and Y/N nodded.

“Yeah, well this must be their toxic-waste dump,” Sam deadpanned. He narrowed his eyes at an empty space. It had dust around it, the center was dust-free. Indicating a box was previously there. Y/N noticed this and brought her finger up, pressing it to the dust. “One box is missing” Sam pointed out, bringing his own finger up to the empty space before dusting it off simultaneously with Y/N.

“Great,” She muttered sarcastically. “Well, maybe they didn’t open it” Dean said hopefully with a shrug, smiling awkwardly at Sam and Y/N. Sam gave him a look that clearly said “really?” As Y/N let out a scoff. “When has our luck ever been that good, babe?” She pointed out, patting his shoulder.

____________________________________________

The Impala and Harley pulled up to the beat down apartment complex in quite a sketchy neighborhood. Parking side by side with their respective drivers holding the wheel and handlebars. Y/N flicked up the visor on her helmet to get a better look at the car they saw on the tape back at the storage facility after greasing the palms of the security guard to get the footage.

“Connecticut. Last three digits, 8-8-0” She said the plate number out loud as she turned to the Winchesters. “Yup. That’s it” Sam confirmed as Dean clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Should’ve blacked out their plates before they parked in-front of the security camera” He snickered.

“Damn morons” Y/N muttered as she pushed her visor back down. She let out a chuckle as she looked over at the complex. “Nice place” She deadpanned, peeling her helmet off. “If you’re looking to get shot, that is” Dean added with sass as he shut the Impala off.

The trio clambered out of their rides, staring at the shady place. Sam looked less than pleased as his eyes landed on the cracked door that looked like it was practically hanging by its hinges by the entrance. “What an absolute shithole” He muttered as Dean shut his driver door, heading round to the trunk with Y/N.

Y/N was now kneeling in-front of the door to the apartment of the suspects from the video, trying her best to make the least amount of noise to pick the lock. It sounded like the two were inside so Sam and Dean cocked their guns behind her.

They stayed close behind her, keeping guard with their weapons readied and at the ready as she picked the lock to the door. It didn’t take too long before the lock clicked open and it slightly creaked as she pushed it in.

Dean and Sam were immediately on high alert when they heard movement from inside the apartment. “I can’t lose…I mean, really. I- I can’t lose” Wayne said as he picked up his drink from the table. Y/N whipped out her own gun as they trudged down quietly the dusty hall to the apartment.

“I mean, this thing really works. You know what I’m saying?” Wayne told Grossman as he picked up the cursed rabbit's foot. Sam, Dean and Y/N exchanged a look as they pressed their backs to the wall, “I’ll tell you one thing, there’s no way in fuckin’ hell, we’re handing it over to that stuck-up bitch now. Not after all we’ve been through” Wayne insisted.

“Mhm” Grossman agreed, Wayne smiled as the two men got up from the couch. “Let go, huh? Let’s get out of here. Let’s go have some fu-” Wayne didn’t get to finish his words when Dean made himself known, “Freeze, freeze! Nobody move” He bellowed with clear authority as they all emerged from the corridor.

Wayne and Grossman were frozen in absolute shock and terror as Y/N and Sam stood by Dean’s sides, guns aimed directly at them. They were completely outnumbered; and it clearly showed by the panicked looks on the two men’s faces.

“Don’t move. Don’t move!” Sam commanded. “What is this?!” Wayne demanded, fear potent in his voice as they held their hands up. “Stop and give us the box!” Y/N shouted as she inched towards Wayne, “And please tell me that you didn’t-”

“Oh, they did” Sam interrupted her words, nodding his head towards the opened curse box on the table. Y/N audibly groaned with annoyance as Dean’s eye twitched. “You opened it?!” He growled before grabbing Wayne by his collar and backing him up into the wall, pressing the barrel of his gun to his throat.

“Uhh! Are you guys cops?!” Wayne groaned, “Huh?!” Dean glared at him, “Are you guys cops?!” He asked again, panicked, “What was in the box?!” Y/N demanded as she trudged over to Dean, pointing her gun straight to the middle of Wayne’s forehead. Wayne breathed heavily as his eyes flickered over to the table.

The cursed rabbit’s foot rested perfectly in the open for taking. Their eyes moved over to the table, “Oh, was that it? It was, wasn’t it?” Dean asked, his attention now on the table as Y/N kept her gaze on Wayne. “What was that thing?” He muttered, Wayne took this opening to smack Dean’s gun away from his throat.

Causing him to accidentally pistol whip his unsuspecting girlfriend across her nose. “Fuck!” Y/N cursed as her hands instinctively went to her nose, dropping her gun in the process to stop the blood from spilling out from the wound.

Her gun dropping on the ground caused a bullet to go off, ricocheting around the room three times before the same bullet narrowly grazed Sam’s hand, resulting in him dropping his gun with a painful hiss. Almost as if it was….dumb luck.

They all instinctively covered their head, except for Y/N, who was nursing her nose. The bullet died, narrowly missing Dean and hitting a nearby lamp. Sam was dumbfounded, until he realized Wayne’s friend, Grossman, was eyeing Y/N’s discarded gun on the ground. He gritted his teeth as he tried, retrieve it, only to get pushed by Grossman and into his brother, their backs hitting each other.

Dean’s accidental back blow from his brother, resulted in him toppling over onto Y/N. The two lovers went crashing into a table with heavy grunts, as the rabbits foot went flying into the air and onto the ground. “Sorry!…AAHH!!” Sam apologized, only to get tackled by Grossman.

Dean’s body was somehow tangled between Y/N’s legs from the fall, his upper body pressing into her inner section. “Motherfucker, you’re heavy! Get off, you’re crushing my vagina!”

“Sorry, sorry” Dean mumbled as he tried to untangle himself from between Y/N’s legs. Dean grunted as he got up off of her, looked over at Sam and Grossman who were in a scuffle on the ground.

Wayne was slowly inching towards Sam’s gun when Y/N tried to sit up, “Oh no you don’t!” Dean attempted to reach for it, only for Wayne to retrieve it. Comedically whacking the elder Winchester across the face, causing him to grunt and fall once more on top of Y/N.

Y/N winced as her still bleeding nose hit the carpet, “Oh sweet baby Jesus…” She mumbled as Dean muttered another groggy ‘sorry’.

Meanwhile, Grossman was strangling the younger Winchester. His head was beginning to get hazy when he realized the cursed rabbit's foot was just fingertips away. Desperation kicked in and Sam reached for it, retrieving it within a matter of seconds.

Suddenly, a rush of adrenaline took him over once he had the rabbit's foot in possession. So he yanked Grossman’s hands off of his throat before lifting his knee between them, kicking him in the mid section.

The single kick sent Grossman flying a few feet into the air, landing across the room. “Dean! Y/N!” Sam shouted as he scrambled to his feet, “I got it” He held up the rabbit's foot, as Y/N helped up a groggy Dean, still weak from the slight blood loss.

“No you don’t” The cocking of a gun caught his attention, Wayne held Sam’s gun towards him. Dean’s eyes widened as tears welled up in Y/N’s. “No” She winced. Sam braced himself for impending death by his own gun, only for when Wayne pulled the trigger. The gun got jammed.

Dean took his chance and pushed himself to his feet, in an attempt to snatch the gun from Wayne, who was repeatedly trying to fire the jammed gun. Faith seemed to step in and a panicked Wayne ended up tripping on his own feet and into the couch. The couch went toppling over, rendering Wayne unconscious with a blow to his head.

Sam and Dean shared a surprised look as Y/N shouted, “Sam!” To gain his attention, upon seeing Grossman attempt to use the bookshelf to pull himself up and shoot Sam. But the bookshelf came down onto Grossman, resulting in the gun he had prior in his possession, being launched into the air.

Sam caught the gun one handed with ease as Grossman fell to the ground with a grunt, falling unconscious with one last book to his head. Everyone looked disheveled and confused, Dean and Y/N’s heads went from the unconscious man to Sam. “That was a lucky break” Y/N groaned as she clutched her nose.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked softly, looking a little shaken from the strange set of events. Y/N nodded before wiping some blood away with her thumb, the metallic substance now staining her cream colored T-shirt. “Yeah, I’m alright” Y/N assured, giving his arm a light squeeze as Sam trotted over, still clenching the now cursed rabbit's foot in his hand.

“Is that a rabbit's foot?” Y/N raised a brow as Sam lifted the foot to get a better look. “I think it is” He responded as he furrowed his brows. Dean looked equally flabbergasted, “Huh” He muttered before turning to Y/N again to get a better look at her busted nose.

The Impala and Harley were now parked outside of a diner, Y/N had sunglasses on along with two cotton swabs sticking up her nose. Her head was tilted back, resting on the seat in the back as Sam sat in front, trying to find anything about the rabbit’s foot from John’s journal.

Dean emerged from the convenience store next to the diner with a plastic bag in hand. “I’m not finding anything on it in Dad’s journal” Sam piped up as Dean clambered back into the driver's seat with the convenience store bag. “Good grief” Y/N murmured, still pinching her nose with two fingers.

Dean nodded as he pulled out a Gatorade, a bag of frozen peas and a pack of smokes. Handing it to Y/N. “I think I got everything you need to help reduce the swelling” he explained as she sat up straight, letting out a slight hiss as she took the items before dropping the bag onto her lap. “You’re a saint, sweetie” Y/N mumbled with a weak smile before taking a sip of the bottle.

“Yeah yeah, whatever” Dean huffed with a sarcastic tone, but his voice held no trace of hostility “Just trying to keep your pretty little face in tact” She rolled her eyes with a scoff as she pressed the peas to her nose but there was a tinge of a smile playing on her face.

Dean then took out the last item from the bag, a bunch of scratch offs. He smirked as he handed it to Sam. “Dean, come on” The younger Winchester scoffed with disapproval. “What?” Dean asked exasperated. “Hey, that was my gun he was pointing at your head. My gun don’t jam, so that was a lucky break” Dean defended as Y/N snorted from the back seat.

Thinking of an innuendo from Dean’s words, only to groan in pain again from the snort which was painful to do.

“That’s what you get” Dean shot back with a wink, only to receive a playful middle finger from his girlfriend. “Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break” She added. Dean nodded in agreement, shoving the scratch offs in his brother’s hand. “Here. Scratch one”

Sam snorted, rolling his eyes. “Come on, little Winchester. Scratch and win” Y/N urged as she tossed the peas beside her, digging into her pocket for a coin. Sam sighed as he accepted the coin, Y/N dropping it into his palm. “Dean, Y/N. It’s gotta be cursed somehow” Sam mumbled as he scratched at one of the tickets. “Otherwise Dad and F/N wouldn’t have locked it up”

He then handed the ticket back to Dean who did the math quickly in his head, his jaw dropping. “$1200. You just won $1200” He gaped. “No fucking way” Y/N exclaimed as looked over Dean’s shoulder to peer at the ticket. Sam’s jaw dropped also as Dean laughed, “Whoo!!!” He exclaimed celebratory as he and Y/N high-fived.

“I don’t know, man. That doesn’t seem that cursed to me” Dean smirked, handing his brother another ticket. Sam wore a stoic expression, snatching the ticket from his brother. “Lighten up, dude. Maybe it’s a lucky rabbit's foot, not cursed” Y/N suggested as Sam began to scratch another ticket. “Well, that’s a hell of a lot of luck” Dean muttered, but a smirk still played on his face.

Dean was practically giggling to himself, laying out all the winning lotto tickets on the hood of the Impala while Y/N spoke on the phone with Bobby, who was reprimanding Sam. She leaned against her bike, which was parked next to Dean’s car as Sam paced infront of her. “Sammy, calm down” Y/N tried to ease his tension.

“Look, Bobby, we didn’t know” Sam defended as he stopped in front of her. The phone was on speaker but Dean was too distracted by the tickets to hear the conversation. “You touched it? Damn it, Sam” Bobby exclaimed as he held up the rabbit's foot. “Well, Dad never told us about this thing. I mean, you know about his storage place in Black Rock?” Y/N shot back.

“His lockup? Yeah, I knew. Hell, I built those curse boxes for ‘em” Bobby confirmed as Sam’s eyes spotted something shiny on the ground. “Look, you have got a serious problem. That rabbit's foot ain’t no dime-store notion” Bobby warned them as Sam knelt down and pushed the newspaper side. Underneath was a gold watch. He lifted it up and showed Y/N, who’s jaw dropped as Bobby said.

“It’s real Hoodoo. Old World stuff” Bobby explained as Sam turned to show Dean the gold watch, raising it to the air. “Awesome” Dean mouthed in awe. “Made by a Baton Rouge conjure woman about a hundred years ago” Bobby told them. “It’s a hell of a luck charm” Y/N muttered, “It’s not a luck charm. It’s a curse. She made it to kill people, kids” Bobby exclaimed.

“What?!” Y/N exclaimed as Sam looked equally shocked at the revelation. “Yeah. See, you touch it, you own it. You own it, sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the devil. But you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you’re dead inside a week” Bobby explained.

“Well, so I won’t lose it, Bobby,” Sam assured him, “Everybody loses it!” Bobby exclaimed, “Well, then how do we break the curse?” Y/N countered as Sam shoved it into his pocket, “I don’t know if you can. Let me look through my library and make some calls. Just sit tight” Bobby muttered in frustration.

“Thanks, Bobby” Y/N muttered as Sam paced over to his brother. “Oh, and Y/N” Bobby added, she then took the phone off of the speaker and pressed it to her ear. “Yeah?” She asked, “That knife you gave me, I think I lost it. I’ve been trying to do my best to look it up but I keep coming up empty” He told her lowly.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, part of her mind was yelling at her to tell Bobby that it appeared in her bag but the other part was screaming to not say a word. Her mind was spinning trying to come up with a response but was coming up blank.

“Oh, yeah?” She asked slowly, trying to keep her voice neutral so that Dean and Sam wouldn’t get suspicious. There was a beat of silence before Bobby exhaled slowly on the other end of the line. “Yeah, it sucks. I think I’d have luck finding a needle in a haystack” Y/N forced out a short snort.

“Well, I guess that’s better than finding out if something was wrong with it. Don’t stress it, Bobby” She told him, her eyes darting over to the boys. “Yeah, I guess so” He responded, he didn’t sound very convinced but didn’t say anything else on the matter. “I’ll talk to ya later” He mumbled. “Yeah, alright. Bye” She muttered, hanging up the phone.

“Babe, we’re up 15 grand” Dean cheered as he waved the tickets. Sam frowned along with Y/N, he still hadn’t told Dean that the rabbit's foot was anything but good luck.

“Don’t worry, Bobby’ll find a way to break it” Dean assured Sam and Y/N as he opened the door to the diner. Allowing Y/N in first. “I’m sure he will” Y/N agreed, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder giving it a reassuring squeeze as she walked into the diner which made her realise how hungry she was.

Sam still looked worried but Dean was trying to make the best of the situation. “Until then, I say we hit Vegas, pull a Rain Man. You can be Rain Man” Dean said excitedly. “I like it” Y/N added with a short laugh as they approached the host. “Look, we just lay low until Bobby calls back, okay?” Sam insisted before turning to the host.

“Hi, uh, table for three, please?” He said politely. The host wore a wide smile before shouting, “Congratulations!!” He then pulled an alarm, causing a bell to ring throughout the restaurant. “Exciting, I know” Dean muttered as he and Y/N shared a confused look and Sam looked around the restaurant with an expression that said, ‘What in the holy fuck is going on?’

The host then presented Sam with a large check, “You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson’s Restaurant Family!” The trio held up the large check with faces that said, ‘the fuck?’ The entire staff emerged from the back with cameras, snapping pictures of the three. Suddenly they all started blowing party horns as everyone cheered.

Yellow, red and orange balloons came falling from the ceiling along with streamers and onto them.

Y/N peered over the check to read the prize, “Dude, free food. We’re getting free food for a year! Way to go, Sam!” She cheered excitedly. Sam cringed in discomfort as Dean and Y/N smiled widely for the camera, mainly at the fact that they could stuff their asses for free. Not caring whether the food was terrible or not.

Now sat at a booth, Dean was shoveling his third bowl of ice cream down his throat while next to him, Y/N was gnawing at her second cookie. “Bobby’s right. This lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo” Sam confirmed, sitting across from them as he shut his laptop. “You can’t just cut one off any rabbit” He began. “Hmm” Dean hummed.

“It has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the 13th.” Sam finished as Dean placed his bowl down on the table, “I say from now on..we only go to places with Biggersons” He suggested, Y/N smiled in response as Dean started groaning from a brain freeze, clutching his forehead.

Sam chuckled in amusement, “Serves you right, I told you to eat slower” Y/N teased through her mouthful of cookies as she placed a soothing hand on his shoulder while he hunched over the table, shaking his head. “Usually you’re begging me eat faster” Dean shot back with a wide grin.

“That’s a different type of faster” Y/N responded with a wicked smile. “Yeah I could've done without hearing that” Sam muttered with a grossed out face and a groan, causing the couple to laugh in response. “You know, Sam, you should really try their pie” Y/N joked, still munching down on her cookie. Sam frowned slightly, shaking his head, “No, I’m good” He replied reluctantly.

A very attractive waitress suddenly approached their table, her short skirt riding up slightly. “Can I freshen you up?” She said in a sultry tone, gesturing to Sam’s mug. “Yeah, yeah. Sure” Sam muttered, avoiding eye-contact with her. The waitress flashed him a wide beaming smile. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how hot she was, her eyes roaming over the woman.

The waitress smirked at the psychic, taking her attention off the mug just for a second. Only for a little bit of coffee to spill from the mug, onto the table. The woman gasped before placing the mug on the table, “Oh gosh. I’m so sorry” She exclaimed, grabbing a rag which was tucked into the pocket of her apron. Y/N leaned back into her chair, watching as the waitress bent over to clean up the coffee.

Her seductive smile towards Sam didn’t falter. “Oh, no don’t worry. It’s okay, I got it” Sam assured her, attempting to help her clean the mess up. “It’s no trouble, really” The waitress giggled with a bright smile. Dean looked almost starstruck, his jaw slightly hanging as he stared at the waitress.

“Okay” Sam mumbled, clearing his throat. “Sorry about that” The waitress said as she wiped up the coffee, purposely leaning in to swipe the rabbit's foot from Sam. She pickpocketed him so quickly, none of them noticed due to how they were all shamelessly ogling her as she walked off, her hips swaying with every step she took as she looked back at them with a sultry smirk.

Y/N was the first to snap out of it, “You’re both taken man, quit staring” She grumbled, firstly kicking Dean in his shin and then Sam’s shin underneath the table. Both brothers flinched simultaneously, hissing from the kick she sent to them with her boot. “Ow! What the hell, woman?” Dean exclaimed, rubbing his shin.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, “You were eye-raping her” She said in an annoyed tone. “And you weren’t?” Dean retorted with a huff. Y/N opened her mouth to retaliate, to call him a hypocrite but quickly clamped her jaw shut when she realised that he was right. “Hey, I have no idea what you're talking about” She denied hotly, crossing her arms across her chest. Dean barked out a laugh at her response.

“Bullshit, you were checking her out more than I was” He teased her. The two weren’t actually mad at each other, however. They were quite secure in their relationship, for it being new, you’d think there would be a lot of insecurity between them. But truth be told, Y/N would rather stick a hot poker in between her legs than be with someone other than Dean. It goes both ways.

“Fine, I’ll admit that I looked at her for longer than appropriate but you were staring like a perv” Y/N replied in fake annoyance. Part of her was still a little jealous, even if she wasn’t actually annoyed. “What can I say? It’s in my DNA” He said with a shrug and a smirk. Y/N rolled her eyes with a soft smile. “You’re an ass,” She muttered.

“Yeah but I’m your ass,” He reminded her. Sam fake gagged at them from across the table as he shook his head, earning middle fingers from both Dean and Y/N. Dean stuck up one of his fingers, his other hand resting behind Y/N’s backrest of the booth while Y/N stuck up both her fingers at the younger Winchester.

Sam simply cackled in return, picking up his hot mug of coffee. Which ended up slipping from his grasp, onto the table and began dripping onto his pants. “Oh! Oh, shit. Ah” Sam panicked, quickly pushing himself up from his side of the booth.

Only to accidentally bump into a waiter behind him, who was carrying a tray of food. The array of food scattered across the ground as the waiter fell back first, due to Sam’s ‘structured’ build. Dean and Y/N were agape at the sight. The waiter groaned as he sat upright on the floor, covered from head-to-toe in food.

Sam looked mortified as he muttered a quick and embarrassed “I’m so sorry”. He then turned to his family with a similar expression, Dean and Y/N shared a confused look. “How was that good?” Dean muttered, Sam quickly dug into his pocket. Only to come up short, now realizing they had been conned by that waitress and the rabbit’s foot was now gone.

The trio let out collective groans when they came to the same realization. “Son of a bitch” “Jesus Christ” Dean and Y/N exclaimed in unison as they all made a break for it to the door of the diner, they all frantically looked around for the black haired waitress.

When they realized she was nowhere in sight, they began running towards their vehicle. Sam then stumbled and tripped comically with a loud, “Whoa!” Resulting in Dean and Y/N freezing in their tracks. Sam grunted on the floor from his faceplant as his brother said, “Wow, you suck”

Y/N shot him a slight glare as she and Dean rushed over to help Sam up. When they got to his side, they each grabbed one of his arms and pulled him to his feet. Both his knees were cut open, the fall causing his pants to rip. “So what, now your luck turns bad?” Y/N asked as Sam painfully dusted himself off.

“I guess” He responded as Y/N wiped the dust off of his face. “I wonder how bad” Dean muttered. Sam gave his brother an unamused frown, “Please don’t say that” He winced.

_______________________________________________

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Xoxo

#dean winchester #supernatural #sam winchester #spn #dean and sam #sam and dean #supernatural fandom #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you

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xxlady-lunaxx · 2 days ago

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sanemi had always memorized his siblings’ birthdays. he knew them by heart, and, every year, did what little he could manage when the days came. for the most part, he found time to bring something to their graves, sitting properly in front of them and laying the things he brought down. but now the year had started again and genya’s birthday made its yearly appearance—right around the beginning of january. he wasn’t dead (thank god), and sanemi couldn’t bring himself to actually celebrate, not in front of genya. so the most he could force himself to do was somehow sneak some money into genya’s pocket when he was sleeping or something along those lines. but the thing was—for some time now, genya had been staying at gyomei’s house. sanemi couldn’t exactly sneak into there without gyomei catching him. also, genya had a bunch of friends now, and they were crowding him today, having heard from gyomei that it was genya’s birthday. therefore: sanemi was stuck.

it took some time, but sanemi managed to squeeze in a quick sparring session with gyomei between his missions, and the two fought as the children chattered happily inside the stone estate. after they finished, sanemi, who had gladly taken advantage of gyomei’s lack of vision, took out the parcel containing genya’s gift. it was just food—ohagi and some matcha tea—so that sanemi could subtly place it somewhere where genya would find it, and it would pass off as a gift from literally anyone. the only trouble he had was writing. he’d had to make sure genya knew it was for him, so he ended up searching for someone who didn’t know him to tell him how to write happy birthday. after he’d successfully scrawled down the characters (who cared how messily they were written?), he stuck it in one of the folds of the wrapped package and brought it with him on his way to the training grounds.

accepting gyomei’s suggestion to get water, after they’d finished training, sanemi slipped inside, scouring the halls for somewhere he could put the gift. for now, he tucked it under his arm, going to get himself some much needed water. as he passed the room with genya and the others, he found the door slightly ajar. peeking through, he squinted, gazing at the clutter of their joy.

likely hearing him, zenitsu, the louder, blond one, turned to the door in question. a bit tired out from the sparring and not necessarily caring if they saw him (since they likely knew he’d been training with gyomei), sanemi allowed himself to be spotted. surprised, zenitsu’s eyes widened and he stiffened. these drew immediate interest to the door, and someone—tanjiro, the bastard—slid it all the way open. sanemi managed to hide the package behind his back as he narrowed his eyes in a glare inclusive to everyone. the group seemed confused, and mildly perturbed by his presence.

“is everything alright, shinazugawa-san?” tanjiro asked curiously, tilting his head.

sanemi grunted, gaze sweeping briefly to genya, who looked increasingly nervous. “sure,” he huffed. “you guys were making so much fucking noise, i’m surprised himejima let you stay.”

“i’m sorry, shinazugawa-san,” kanao murmured, bowing slightly. she had remnants of a sincere smile from earlier left on her expression, and sanemi momentarily noted that, remembering how little she used to express herself. then he wondered what she was doing here, given genya’s inability to be near anyone female for long—before noticing the conspicuous way genya was positioned on the opposite side of the room as her.

“just be quiet,” sanemi allowed, finally. “it’s irritating.”

genya nodded quickly, and the others followed suit. “sorry, aniki,” he mumbled. “we’ll be quieter.”

he seemed to think sanemi didn’t know what they were doing. but, either way, sanemi left the room, shutting the door behind him. his hands were empty now, as he sought out water, and he smiled to himself, much satisfied. he’d managed to slip the gift beside the ones the others had brought, with the minor distraction they’d provided.

gyomei found him, a couple minutes later, and got himself some water.

“you’re leaving now?” gyomei confirmed, and sanemi nodded.

“yep. nice training with you.”

after all, he’d done what he’d set out to—and had gotten some beneficial training in the process. so he sent gyomei a smile he couldn’t see and headed home.

•

as genya opened his presents, the others having had to return to their training, his eyes caught on one in brown wrapping. it was more hastily done than the rest, and he wondered if inosuke had, in fact, given him something. picking it up, he gently tugged out a paper that had been tucked in. written with clumsy lettering were the words “happy birthday.” he was doubtful inosuke had gone and bothered to learn how to write just for his birthday, but he couldn’t think of anyone else who would’ve written like that. the others had pretty good handwriting, if not drawings (cough, tanjiro and the card he’d drawn).

opening the gift, he found ohagi and matcha, all tucked neatly inside. his suspicions of it being from inosuke immediately evaporated and his mind strayed back to when sanemi had interrupted them earlier. a large smile on his face, he bit into one of the mochi balls, his spirits rising where they were already high.

sanemi was truly the best aniki in the world.

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wenella · 3 days ago

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Seeking Zhu Yilong

EN translation of Zhu Yilong X Marie Clarie Jan 2025 Cover Issue Feature Interview by wenella

The search for “Zhu Yilong” started after Dongji Island wrapped.

Zhu Yilong’s 7-month life on the set ended at night. When Zhu Yilong finished his last scene underwater that night, his body was filled with the character’s emotions, and he was overwhelmed by fatigue. He didn’t come back to his senses even when he heard the director yelled, “it’s a wrap!” It was not until the director jumped into the water to celebrate with him that he felt a huge sense of relief. It was finally time to say goodbye to his role Luo Xiao.

Zhu Yilong's role in the movie "Dongji Island" required him to perform many scenes underwater. He had to perform actions and deliver emotions while going with the flow of the water and ensuring that he did not choke. This is his toughest role so far.

Over the past decade, Zhu Yilong has played a variety of characters. His career is akin to a life simulation game; he levels up by collecting different characters. Once the camera rolls, he can be anyone, except Zhu Yilong. After leveling up, he quickly turns back into Zhu Yilong and doesn’t linger in the lives of others.

Zhu Yilong often jokes that he will get "sick" after each film. Once he wraps, it is as though all the taut strings in his body suddenly loosen and his only desire is to lie down and do nothing. This time, Zhu Yilong returned to Beijing and rested at home for a few days. In the past, he always looked forward to diving, swimming, or relaxing by the beach during his break. "I think I swam enough for Dongji Island this time. I don't want to (go to the beach) for the time being, I just want to rest."

In the past, Zhu Yilong could separate himself from his role after wrapping by changing his clothes or getting a haircut. However, over the past year, he has found it increasingly difficult to remove the lingering traces of his characters on him. These traces remain in him even though he has bid farewell to his role, and it is harder to discern how Zhu Yilong should be like anymore. What does it mean to return to being himself? What does it even mean to be himself? The boundaries start to blur.

Searching for himself

Zhu Yilong lived in Qingshan District, Wuhan, when he was a child. In the area, there was an important cultural venue named Red Flag Theater where many art performances and activities were held. The Theater was converted into an ice rink in the late 1990s and was subsequently demolished to make way for a housing community.

The place holds the childhood memories of a generation of Qingshan residents - the billiards next to the theater cost 50 cents a shot; children always gathered at the video game machines near the theater; the aroma of skewers at the entrance of the theater lingers even after many years. When Zhu Yilong was in elementary school, the school often took students to the Red Flag Theater for movies. The Theatre was like a time travel box that transported children to the past and the future. They got to see the outside world through this theatre.

Besides the theater, open-air movies were often shown on the university campus near Zhu Yilong's home. In the evening, he often ran over to the field with his grandmother's braised chicken feet, sat down with others, and feasted on the chicken feet while immersing himself in the movie. "I was easily drawn into the stories and I believed in what happened in those scenes." Little did Zhu Yilong know that he would grow up to become a storyteller and a character on the big screen.

Zhu Yilong started to watch many movies after he was admitted to the Beijing Film Academy. He learnt about the world through movies and developed a stronger connection with the world. There is a park called Xiaoyue River next to the Beijing Film Academy, where many students practiced their skills secretly. Students usually did morning practice exercises on campus, but if they didn’t want others to see them working so hard, they would get up earlier and go to Xiaoyue River to practice their vocals.

Zhu Yilong found this rather amusing as he recalled the past. “When we were in college, working hard seemed like a shameful thing. Everyone wanted to perform well on stage but didn’t want to appear too hardworking – oh wait, he doesn’t practice martial arts, how can he be so good at it?! – Everyone hoped that they were like this, but in fact they were all practicing their skills secretly.”

Today, Zhu Yilong is no longer ashamed to talk about his efforts. It takes a lot of energy to create a role and he always strives for the best each time he shoots a scene. From the first day he stepped out of school, he demanded himself to do his best in all his performances. Whatever he could give at that moment would be his best. Even if he sees mediocre acting while rewatching his previous works, he will not think of how he can improve that scene as he knows that he had already tried his best at that moment.

After becoming an actor, Zhu Yilong gradually discovered that filming is a constant process of self-exploration and that he didn't know himself as well as he thought he did. "Even if the role is very different from yourself, it is impossible to create a character out of thin air; you can't completely turn yourself into another person. You need to dig within yourself to create the role and sometimes, you will discover that you can leverage something that you think you don't originally have. Through this process, you gradually become unsure of who you really are."

In the past, watching movies was about getting to know the world. Now, making movies is about finding himself.

Immune Response

Every time Zhu Yilong creates a character, he gets very anxious and takes a long time to prepare for his role. He creates different possibilities for his character, sets high standards and tries his best to achieve them. He regards this anxiety as a type of “immune response,” which is the inevitable result of entering a new role. In his opinion, integrating himself with a new character will trigger such an immune response. There is no need to relieve the anxiety when it occurs as it is impossible to get rid of it anyway. Rather than thinking about how to relieve the anxiety, it will be more useful to face it, feel it, and adapt to it.

Besides, people will feel anxious at any stage of their life. Zhu Yilong recalled a moment when he was 27 or 28 years old. He was suddenly seized by anxiety one night and thought: I’m almost 30 years old, what can I shoot in the future? I want to make films, but there’s no opportunity. When he gathers with his friends these days, people tend to talk about their recent situation, thoughts, and issues they are worried about.

He allows anxiety to come naturally as he knows that there will be a moment when it fades out. No one knows how long the anxiety will last, but there will come a day when he suddenly realizes that acting can be effortless - there’s no need to think about where the camera is, when to pause in a sentence, or whether to look left or right. All “immune responses” will disappear once he is completely relaxed and everything he does will feel right. At this moment, he knows that he has connected with his character.

But there comes a risk after he makes that connection between reality and imagination. In recent years, there were several occasions when he couldn't tell if everything before him was real or fake. Sometimes, after he finished a scene, he would realize that the scene was identical to the scene that appeared in his brain when he was resting. At this moment, he is unsure if everything that happened was real or simply part of his imagination.

Zhu Yilong has read many stories about "acting maniacs" and used to envy the way they eat, sleep, and breath acting. Nonetheless, he knows that it will be difficult to do so with his personality. To him, the film set is a microcosm of society. If an actor completely transforms himself into the role that he plays, it may be difficult for him to consider the feelings of the people around him and may even become unreasonable and inconsiderate.

It is impossible for Zhu Yilong to completely ignore the feelings of others. On the set, he is always quickly to sense changes in people's emotions. He hopes that the atmosphere on the set is harmonious, comfortable, and relaxed. Everyone is free to express themselves and offer ideas without worrying about judgement. He doesn't want everyone to be so uptight all the time as he finds it difficult to work in such tense environments. Therefore, he will try his best to control himself, devote himself fully to the role and follow the character's developmental trajectory. However, once the director shouts "cut", he will immediately return to being himself.

Nonetheless, he has also tried to change in recent years. He tries to integrate himself with his role as much as possible without affecting the work of others and strives to release his full potential during filming. Even after the director shouts "cut," he does not withdraw himself from the role immediately as before and does not seek to revert to “Zhu Yilong” deliberately.

Zhu Yilong is trying to find a balance between his roles and himself, as well as between performance and life.

Sweet Moments

Zhu Yilong has been in love with basketball and Michael Jordan since young. This iconic figure in basketball history has created countless moments by controlling the court with his superb skills and frustrating his opponents. If Michael Jordan had to cheer himself on during an important game, one of the tactics he used was to magnify the opponent's contempt for him – it might just be a glance, but he would take it as hostility to gear himself up. Zhu Yilong found this method useful for actors. "For example, if you need a certain emotion at a specific moment, it might be more effective to capture the emotion and magnify it within yourself, rather than simply using your imagination. This way, you will not only own the emotion, but also avoid disturbing others.”

Zhu Yilong’s views about acting are constantly evolving as he accumulates acting experiences over the years. He keeps thinking about how to improve and often hopes to enhance his acting with a stroke of genius. But where does this stroke of genius come from? Are there new ways to act?

After each take, Zhu Yilong will observe everyone's reactions and feel the atmosphere subconsciously. "Sometimes, you get a strong feeling after you finish a take. If the take is good, the whole atmosphere will feel right. Conversely, the atmosphere will not feel right if it was a bad take." Sometimes, when he isn’t sure if he is reading too much into the atmosphere, he will ask the director: is it okay? Is it really okay? He communicates with the director constantly and brainstorms ways to improve the scene. “There is no way to tell what kind of performance is the best. You can always do a better job, but you don't know what the best is. In such cases, we will need the director to make a judgement. If he feels that he has everything he wants, that's it."

There are occasional moments, which are oblivious to others, when Zhu Yilong feels immensely pleased and satisfied by his own performance. It is akin to a golf player hitting a sweet spot that sends the ball travelling far and straight. Zhu Yilong feels that his performance hit the sweet spot when his emotions and reactions are on point and impeccable. These moments do not occur frequently but he always looks forward to such moments each time he goes to the set.

New Roadmap

Besides these moments, Zhu Yilong also shuts down for some time each year and allow himself to relax. The duration of his break is highly contingent. Sometimes, he may have planned to rest for half a year, but he tries to find something to do after resting for just a week. It also depends on fate. He may have planned to rest for 3 months. But if he suddenly encounters a script that he really likes, he will get back to work immediately.

He doesn’t deliberately plan for the future. He has a clear idea of what a good actor should be and works towards this goal while picking scripts that he wants to shoot. He does not consider factors such as box office and awards. After all, filming is highly time consuming, “if I can’t work on projects that I’m interested in, it will be so unbearable.”

A reporter once asked him: if he could pick a special ability, what would it be? His answer at that time was to stop time. Now, he feels that he really needs this special ability. Time seems to fly whenever he is working, especially in recent years. In the past, he would think that a 3-month filming period with a hectic schedule and tough preparatory work was unbearable. Now, he feels that a few months happen in a blink of an eye. Some moments happen so quickly that he doesn’t have sufficient time to feel them properly. Sometimes, he really hopes that he can stop time to enjoy these fleeting moments before moving on. After all, the journey of exploring himself has just begun.

He looks forward to the future, though he isn’t exactly sure what to anticipate. Regardless, the journey of seeking Zhu Yilong has changed its trajectory. He is no longer obsessed with recovering his known self; rather, he is more interested in uncovering the hidden possibilities within himself. He has a new roadmap on hand, and the terrain ahead is unknown; he is ready to embark on this new journey to fully experience life as Zhu Yilong.

**THE END**

Post-translation note: Post-translation note: This interview gives SO MUCH updated insight into Zhu Yilong's views on acting. Really looking forward to his new role as Luo Xiao in Dongji Island. Can't imagine the number of underwater scenes he filmed for him to avoid the sea/beach temporarily.

If you'd like to translate this into other languages, please drop me a DM + credit by linking this thread. Happy reading and good night.

#朱一龙 #wenella #朱一龍 #zhuyilong #zhu yilong #dongji island #东极岛

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wwooyology · 1 day ago

Text

You're Mine Baby | K.YS

「pairing」 : ex bf!yeosang x fem!reader 「word count」 : 3.2k

「synopsis」 : you and yeosang had been broken up for at least a year now, but when you come back to town and saw him with another girl it sets you off. he was only supposed to be yours and this time you were going to make sure that he understood that.

「genre」 : psychological horror/thriller, angst, dark romance, slight gore

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, DARK THEMES!!!, cussing, tiny bit of kissing, stalking, reader has SEVERE mental illnesses (she's just straight psychotic), gore, blood, murder, stabbing, use of a weapon (knife), name-calling (skank...), manipulation, threats, hitting/slapping, blackmail(?), reader is in love obsessed with yeosang, mentions of a therapist/mental hospital, EXTREME violence, petnames (my love, baby…), yelling/shouting, fighting, anger issues, gaslighting, reader lowkey gives off 'if I can't have you no one can' vibes, kidnapping, implied use of drugs/sedative, possessiveness, lmk if I missed anything bc I feel like I did…

「now playing」 : kill bill by sza

「notes」 : this is some dark shit so I HEAVILY advice you to carefully look over ALL of the warnings before you proceed with reading!! also if this isn't your type of thing that is perfectly fine, but please keep your unnecessary comments to yourself, thank you.

It was late afternoon when you found yourself sitting outside a cafe, an iced coffee sitting on the table in front of you as you stirred the ice around with your straw. However, your eyes were focused on the couple laughing away with each other on the other side of the window. Your eyes narrow as you watch the girl lean onto the male, anger coursing through your veins. That was supposed to be you, not some worthless skank.

How long has it been since you last saw Yeosang? Oh, right…it has been two years, six months, two weeks, and four days since you were coldly ripped from his arms. You could even recall the seconds, hours, and minutes as well.

You had hoped that whenever you were released that you would get the chance to reconcile with your ex-boyfriend. Yet as you learned of his new girlfriend the more that bitter taste in your mouth grew. So much so that you wanted nothing more than to get her out of the picture.

The straw in your hand made a pathetic sound as your fingers tightened around it, absolutely destroying the poor thing as you watched Yeosang lean over the girl and capture her lips in a kiss. Rage started to cloud your vision and you stood from your seat, the chair scraping the ground roughly.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” The sound of the worker's voice drew you out of your intense haze, and you looked over at her with doe eyes. Seeing her glance down at your hand, you noticed that with the force of your abrupt standing, it caused some of your coffee to slosh around before splashing onto the surface of the table.

Swallowing thickly, you recalled your therapist's words, ‘Remember, y/n, don’t let your anger consume you. It will only cause you more trouble, and I would hate to see you back in here again.’

Letting out a shaky breath, you apologized to the girl before using a few napkins to clean up your mess. Whenever you were finished, you looked back over your shoulder only to find Yeosang and that wretched girl was gone. Grumbling lowly, you threw the soaked napkins away before grabbing your drink and storming off down the sidewalk.

“Of course, they just had to leave when I wasn’t looking. No worries though, I can find them.” You assured yourself as you took a sip of your slightly watered-down coffee from the new straw the worker had offered you.

That’s exactly what you did. You found them later that night at a movie theater. Then it was the food stall that was just right down the road from the school you and Yeosang had attended years ago before finally Yeosang took her home. You watched from across the road, hiding just beyond the shadows of two houses.

Disgust settled deep in your gut as you saw Yeosang pull her into a deep kiss, his hand against her lower back to pull her closer. Rage once again started to bubble in your gut the longer you watched until he finally pulled away, wishing her one last goodnight before walking off.

Eventually, this led to you following Yeosang around, no matter where he went or what time it was. You were there. You wanted to speak with him, tell him to leave that thing he calls a girlfriend so he could be with you once more, but you knew you couldn’t. He would run the moment he saw you.

So you needed a plan… A plan that would surely make him yours once again.

Then, one day, while you were walking a good distance behind them, you started to recognize the familiar path that they were taking. You hoped that he wasn’t taking her to the spot that he once showed you and promised to never bring anyone else. Yet when he rounded the corner to an all too familiar alleyway, you just knew.

You stopped dead in your tracks, fingers curling into fists at your sides as rage boiled over, flooding every single part of your body until you saw nothing but crimson red. Then you knew… knew it was time to put your plan into action.

It was such a simple plan, really, and your poor, sweet ex-boyfriend was just as clueless as always. He didn’t even bat an eye whenever he received a gift of an all-paid vacation rental from his ‘friend.’ You watched from afar like you’ve done for the past two months, watching as he happily packed all his bags with his happy-go-lucky girlfriend. The sight made you sick, really; how could he be so happy with something like that? Only you truly knew what he deserved, and that was you, of course.

After the lights turned off in his girlfriend's apartment, you made your trek back to your car. All you had to do now was wait for that perfect moment to strike, then he’d be yours again.

—

Yeosang awoke with a groan. The back of his head was throbbing. However, upon trying to reach for his head, he noticed that he couldn’t move his hands. His eyes flew open as he pulled at his restraints after noticing that he was tied to a chair.

‘What’s going on?’ Was all he could think as he tried his best to recall what had previously happened. He and Yoonmin were sitting in the living room, watching a movie, when suddenly the lights went out. He couldn’t remember much of what happened next, it was far too dark, but he did remember feeling an excruciating pain in the back of his head before everything went black.

His eyes then wandered around the room until they fell on the unconscious girl who sat tied to a chair just a few feet in front of him. Panicked, he thrashes around in his seat, but the knots in the rope are far too strong and way too tight for him to break free of. Not only that, but his limbs all felt like jelly, and his muscles were not working the way they were supposed to.

Hearing noises from the other room you sat down the mug of warm tea that sat in your hands, a borderline psychotic smile spreading across your face. Walking into the next room over your steps, light but happy, this is what you’ve been waiting for after all.

“Well, lookie who decided to finally wake up.” You greeted the male happily, making slow strides into the room.

Yeosang’s head snapped in your direction, his eyes blown wide and pupils dilating in anger and fear. Seeing you again was as if he had woken up in his own personal hell, one that he knew he wouldn’t escape from, but he would be damned if he didn’t try.

“Y/n, what the hell is wrong with you? Let us go!” He shouted, arms still roughly pulling at his restraints. Hearing words caused you to stop dead in your tracks, your smile completely wiped off of your face.

He should be happy to see you, not angry. Not with so much hatred in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense, but then you heard a small groan from the other side of the room. Your eyes narrowed into slits as you looked over at the girl. She must have brainwashed him. That had to be it. There would be no other reason Yeosang would even dare to look at you with such contempt.

The clicking sound of your tongue breaks the deathly silent room, the floorboards creaking with each step you take toward the girl. Once she was fully conscious and saw you walking towards her, she started thrashing around in her chair, trying to escape, but to no avail. Yeosang shouts and pleas for you to stop filled the room as you roughly grabbed the girl’s hair, yanking her head back.

“Why are you doing this to us? We did nothing wrong!” The girl weeps as she looks up at you, silent pleas filling her eyes, but you can’t help but scoff at her words.

With a scowl, you yanked her head back until she was looking up at you fully. “Nothing wrong? Nothing. Wrong?” A crazed laugh fell from your lips as if she had said the funniest thing in the world. After a few short moments, your laughter stopped, and your face fell stoic.

Yeosang watched in fear and disbelief as you leaned into the girl's face until you were merely inches away.

“You’re anything but innocent.” The words came out in a growl, your grip on her hair tightening causing her to cry out, more tears streaming down her face. Your wide eyes then studied the girl's face, taking in every little detail that you could possibly find. However, the longer you looked, the more aggravated you became.

What in the world could possibly be so good about her?

Yeosang’s breath hitched, and his yelling stopped as you turned your head to look back at him. A violent chill ran down his spine at the crazed gleam in your eyes. He knew this look all too well after spending years with you, the very look that meant disaster would strike if nothing was done to stop it.

The corner of your lips twitched as you maneuvered yourself next to the crying girl before yanking her head up so she was looking at Yeosang. “Tell me Yeo… What's so good about her? Huh?” Your voice gradually grew in volume, “What does she have that I don’t?” Yeosang shouted at you to stop once more as you pulled on the girl's hair eliciting a pained cry from her lips. “What the fuck makes her so much better than me?”

You couldn’t possibly understand. He had promised you that he would wait until you were released so you could be together again. ‘Why did he go back on his word? Why would he lie to you like that? Why? Why? WHY?’ Thoughts started to cloud your mind, and your sanity slowly started to drift away as you teetered on the edge of the deep.

Yeosang opened his mouth to speak, hoping to calm the situation like he had so many times in the past, but before he could even utter a word, his poor little girlfriend beat him to it.

“Because I’m not a fucking lunatic like you!” She shouted, spitting in your face and causing your whole body to freeze. At those words, that last little push was given, and something inside of you snapped, a small laugh leaving your lips.

Noticing that something wasn’t right, Yeosang pulled against his restraints, “Wait, wait, y/n! She didn’t mean it!” He tried to reason with you as you slowly stood straight, your hold on her hair slipping until your hand dropped back down to your side.

“Of course, I meant it, Yeosang. Do you not see her?!” She shouted at the male, who pleaded with her to stop talking, but she, of course, didn’t get the hint. “I don’t know why she was let out. I mean, look at her, she’s a total fucking nutjo–”

Before she could even finish her sentence, your hand collided with the side of her face, damn near knocking the chair over. A shrill cry of pain left the girl's lips as you slapped her once again, sobs raking her body. Yeosang screamed and thrashed in his restraints, begging you to stop, but you just glared at him.

“Pulling on those restraints is pointless. You can’t get out.” Your eyes were wide as a smile spread across your face, an idea coming to mind. Walking away from the sobbing girl, you make your way over to the table with a slight skip in your step.

“Yoonmin, look at me. We’re gonna be okay, I promise.” Yeosang tried to comfort the girl, who nodded, her hair a mess as she looked over at him. His words pulled a laugh from your lungs as your fingers wrapped around the hilt of a large kitchen knife.

“Oh, Sangie, you should know better than to give empty promises.” You pouted, dragging the blade off the table, allowing the sharp scraping sounds to echo around the room. Yeosang looked over at you with a glare until he saw the knife in your hand, his whole body going rigid. “There’s no one coming to save you. You are on vacation, after all.” A small chuckle fell from your lips as you neared Yoonmin, her whole body trembling as she shook her head profusely, “No one is going to find you… At least not for a while.” You covered your mouth as a borderline psychotic laugh racked your body.

You rounded the girl's seat, pointing the blade dangerously close to her face until you stood behind her. Then, in the blink of an eye, your hand was tangled in her hair once again, yanking her head back until her throat was fully exposed. Yeosang’s eyes widened as he lurched forward, begging you to stop and put the blade down as he tried once again to get out of his restraints, but just like all of the times before, he failed. However, as soon as the blade's sharp edge made contact with her skin, you stopped, a sinister smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Y/n, please.” Yeosang cried out, tears of his own blurring his vision. He knew that one wrong move could easily end Yoonmin’s life, and he also knew that he had very limited time to act. “You’re here for me, right? Let her go, and I promise I’ll go with you. Just let her go, y/n, please.”

Your eyes narrowed into a glare as you pressed the blade further against the girl's neck, choked sobs racked her body as she tried to shy away from it. However, your grip was far too strong for her to go against.

“Oh my love,” You tilted your head, expression changing to one of pity as you looked at him, “we both know I can’t do that. You see, as long as this skank is alive, you’ll never fully be mine, and we can’t have that.” Your words alone were enough to send a chill down the male’s spine, but he wasn’t going to give up as he continued to try and negotiate with you, but it proved fruitless. “Can’t you understand it, Yeosang? I’m the only one you need. I’m the only one who loves you, who is truly right for you. Not some watered-down rat you found on the street.” You growl, pressing the blade just far enough to break the first layer of skin; bright crimson-red blood seeped out, running down her heaving chest.

Growing even more aggravated, you told Yeosang to just say goodbye before starting to drag the blade across the girl’s skin.

“No, no, please y/n! NO!” Yeosang shouted, but it was useless; with precise movements, you had sliced the girl’s neck wide open. Blood sprayed out of the gaping wound as she struggled to intake any air. Your hand became covered in the thick liquid as you laughed maniacally.

Yeosang could only sit there in shock, tears streaming down his pale face as he watched the life drain from his girlfriend's body until she fell limp in her chair. “H-How could you?” He choked out, looking up at you as you wiped your face with your forearm but only managed to smear more blood. “Why couldn’t you just leave us alone?!” Sobs fell from his lips as he shouted at you, but you could only shake your head.

You slowly walked over to him, your hands behind your back as you playfully swung the knife around. “One day, you’ll understand Sangie, but she had to die. That’s the only way you would be mine and mine alone. I didn’t want to kill her, but that was the best way to do it.” You pouted as you finally reached him, bending at the waist to look at him.

“This is wrong, y/n.” Yeosang’s voice shook as he stared at you in nothing but unadulterated fear. He knew that you would never physically hurt him, but you definitely had your way around it.

A pained expression fell upon your features as you reached out to him, cupping his cheek in your hand despite him trying to back away. “I just love you so much, Sangie, I can’t stand seeing you with other people. It just hurts me so much, and I’d rather die than be without you.”

“That’s not love, it’s an obsession.”

“Oh, but Sangie, you know deep down that you belong with me. Even your sweet mother knows that.” You spoke softly as your fingers tightened around his chin, “I would absolutely hate to see something happen to that poor woman.”

Yeosang felt his blood run cold at the mention of his mother, eyes growing wide as you pulled your phone out of your pocket. After a few taps, you turn the device around to show Yeosang the screen. Even though the smeared blood on the screen, he could very clearly tell that it was his mother, humming to herself in the kitchen while she cooked dinner.

Fear sunk its claws even deeper into his bones as he took in the unsettling smile that was on your lips. He was trapped.

“Now… are you going to be a good boy and listen to me? I’m only doing this for your own good, baby; I hope you understand that.” Your voice was sickeningly sweet as you cooed at him, your phone placed back into your pocket.

Yeosang knew that he didn’t have any other choice but to agree with you. It was the only way he could guarantee the safety of those around him. His pain-filled eyes flickered back over to the dark-haired girl's lifeless form before shifting his gaze back up to you.

“I’ll go with you, but you have to promise that you won’t hurt anyone else.” He begged, tears still spilling down his face, now mixing with the blood on his chin from your stained hand.

Shaking your head with a click of your tongue you brought the blade up to your face, waving it from side to side, eyes trained on the crimson cover metal. Then your eyes moved back over to meet Yeosang’s.

“That will all depend on if you can behave, my love. Be good, and no one else will get hurt.” Your tone was kind, but there were undertones that indicated that your words were anything but a bluff.

His heart pounded in his chest as he swallowed thickly, “I’ll behave, I promise.” He told you reluctantly, and he felt goosebumps litter his skin when a bright smile spread across your face.

Reaching forward, you cupped his face once more before leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead. “We’re gonna be the happiest couple in the world, Sangie, I love you so much!”

It was then that it finally set in that he was trapped with nowhere else to run. His most terrifying nightmare had actually come true, but unlike those wicked dreams, he couldn’t wake up from this one.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

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