#Like a Mirror craves the hunt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mxilkyways · 2 months ago

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Sweet Affairs

summary: after a hunt gone awry, dean is pissed that the reader had put her life on the line - however, through concealed feelings and misguided judgement the reader refuses to see why dean is so worked up. An argument ensues between the pair that reveal hidden emotions and lead to them indulging in what they both had been craving for so long.

warnings: very heavy smut (⚠️), all the shenanigans

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” his voice was taunt, gritted through clenched teeth as the door to the cheap motel slammed shut behind him.

Your jaw ticked, vein popping from under your skin as you swallowed down the obscenities you were tempted to spew at him. The tense silence on the car ride back had paid no help in trying to douse the frustration and insults whirling through your mind, rather having provided you the opportunity to stare daggers into the side of his head.

Your quietness seemed to push Dean even further, a disgruntled huff passing his lips as his fingers curled around your forearm; whirling you towards him. You whined in protest, attempting to tug yourself from his grip however his hold just tightened.

“Dont. Dont you dare try to pull away.” his tone left no room for argument and so you reluctantly stopped resisting. “Do you even understand what you did today?”

Your eyes narrowed, mirroring his, as you swallowed harshly. You could feel the anger in his hold, his fingertips dug in so hard there’s no doubt bruises would be left behind, yet it only served to fuel your own rage.

“Im not a baby, Dean. Of course i know what I did — i had a choice to make and I did what I thought was right.” venom leaked from your tongue, speaking to him in a manner that portrayed him as a petulant child.

A growl emitted low within his chest, his restraint clear on the verge of snapping. You watched as his head pivoted to the side, tongue darting out to wet his lips. It was barely a few seconds of peace before a scoff was drawn from his throat followed by the chastising echo of a laugh.

“Bullshit. You’re exactly what a fucking baby is — you got no goddamn brains throwing yourself into danger like that. You nearly got yourself killed, what about that screamed right to you?” he was provoking you, trying to get you to admit you were wrong but you were too stubborn for your own good.

Your eyes scanned over his face as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, biting so hard a metallic tang bled against your mouth. You noticed his gaze drop before he subconsciously moved, running his thumb along the outline of your bottom lip; pulling it from between your teeth.

You jerked your head backwards, away from his touch. “You’re acting like you wouldn’t do the same —“

“Its different” his words cut through yours. You glared at him again yet he seemed to pay no attention, his focus solely drawn to the blood that stained the cracks of your lips “you’re different”

This caused you to reel back, your arm yanking from his grip. Your chest heaved as disbelief coursed through your veins; eyes drawn almost into slits. Dean cursed as his fist clenched, dropping down to his side.

“Are you kidding me? How am I different, Dean? I had every right to do what I did and so what if I put my life at risk — the goddamn vampires are dead, thats all that should matter” your voice was raising with every word that left, your emotions coming to a boil.

You were about ready to turn and leave when Dean closed the distance between the two of you, his chest pressed so closely against yours you could feel the beat of his heart as it hammered against his ribcage. His fingers moulded to your chin, twisting so you had no choice but to look at him. His hold was so tight your cheeks squished inwards, your lips pouting involuntarily.

“You dont get it do you?” his tone was so grating you were left stunned, chests fitting together as you both struggled to cool down “I cant lose you — and when you do stupid shit like this, it scares me.”

Silence seemed to filter through the air as you registered his words, brain churning to try and decipher exactly what he was implying. His gaze jumped around your face, from your eyes to your lips, to your cheeks as his fingers flexed.

His hold loosened, hand sliding to the back of your neck as he now cradled you. His thumb swiped idly across your flesh, soothing down the impressions his nails had left behind. His lips drew into a thin line, an indication he was battling whatever was running through his mind, before his eyes snapped back to yours; a newfound sense of determination clear.

“I care about you, okay?” he paused, letting the words hang in the air “more than id ever bothered to admit to myself — to admit to you. You’re different because i dont know how the hell I would ever be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

“Dean, I —” the words got caught in your throat, a tight coil forming within your stomach. Your tone was no longer harsh rather it was weak, like all the air had been sucked from your lungs.

“Just listen… please” his eyes were half glossed over, his eyebrows drawn together in a desperate act of pleading. He didn’t wait for you to respond before he spoke again.

“Ive tried so hard to push down my feelings but you make it so goddamn difficult when every time you walk into the room, I feel like being sick because I’ve never seen someone so beautiful. I thought… I thought you’d cursed me, bewitched me cause’ there was no way I was finally falling in love with you, but then I realized that maybe — maybe you’re just that perfect.” his eyes closed momentarily, a sharp inhale whistling in the space between us. “I hate you for it, sometimes - having made me fall in love with you because when you do the things you did today, I panic. I would do anything to protect you but at times like this I feel so useless, helpless that I cant just take you away from every bad thing in this universe… m’ sorry for getting angry but can you blame me? I dont want to lose the only pure thing I was given the honor of loving in this godawful life”

Your lips were parted as you took in every word that left his tongue. You stood, frozen, your hands itching to reach out, touch him, show him how much his words meant to you. There seemed to be a buzzing in the air that vibrated against your skin, causing goosebumps to awake on your skin.

“You’re not joking are you?” the sentence sounded dumb the moment it entered into the space however your brain was running overdrive and it was impossible to control what slipped out.

Deans head fell back, a dry laugh tugging at his throat before he drew back, gazing at you with such disbelief. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“No” you shook your head, your own smile gracing your face before you leaned forward; connecting your lips to his.

The kiss was soft at first, your lips only slightly pressed against his as you tested the waters yet, almost clinically Dean deepened the contact. His hands moved across the flushed flesh of your neck, trailing over the blades of your shoulders, down the hollows of your back before coming to rest on the plush fat of your hips.

His fingers tightened possessively, drawing you impossibly closer as a groan jutted against your mouth. Your own hands splayed against his chest, creasing the fabric of his shirt.

You pulled back momentarily, a string of saliva connecting the two of you before it popped, glazing your bottom lip and chin. Deans gaze darkened as he eyed the scene, barely giving you time to register what was happening before his lips were attached to the skin of your chin. He kisses up the length of your face till he reached your lips again, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip; seeking entrance.

You hummed against him, parting your lips as his tongue directly began to map out the entirety of your mouth. Your hands threaded into the hair at the nape his neck, causing a sudden moan to escape Dean. The corner of your mouth tugged up before his teeth were biting down on your swollen lips, your own moan following suit.

One of your hands delve down between the two of you, landing on the prominent bulge tenting his jeans. He hissed, his hips rutting forward; chasing the way you palmed him through the, what he now considered, inconvenient fabric of his pants.

Your movements never ceased, working in tandem with the way his lips fought against yours. Suddenly his fingers caught your wrist, pulling back your hand as he whined against your mouth.

“Ah — fuck… you gotta’ stop that, sweetheart, or i ain’t gonna last” his breath was hot against you “plus if my cock’s gotta be milked, its gonna be inside you”

Your body shuddered as his words reached your ears, your thighs clenching instinctively to try to release the pressure that was building up. Dean didn’t fail to notice your action, a cocky smirk gracing his features as he patted the underside of your thigh.

The fat of your ass jiggled as you jumped up, wrapping your legs around his waist as your arms linked behind his shoulders. His hands grasped at the flesh of your thighs, holding you against him as his erection subsequently rubbed against your core from outside your shorts.

His lips met yours again in another feverish kiss as he began to lead you both over to the edge of the bed. With a soft thud your back hit the sheets, the mattress creaking under the newfound weight. His body caged atop yours, his forearms resting either side of your head as his hips slotted between your legs.

He rolled his hips forward, the rough material of your shorts snagging against your underwear; eliciting a moan from your lips. “shit, dean — need you so bad”

Your words caused him to hum against you yet something seemed to snap inside him as he picked up his pace. His fingers grasped the edge of your shirt, tugging it over your head before moving to the buttons of your shorts; those being torn from your body like it was a reflex.

Once he had you stripped down, he pulled back to admire you — sprawled out on the bed, hair tossed about, chest heaving. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed, like he was a man starved.

“Fucking hell” he muttered under his breath before diving to the column of your neck. His lips worked overtime, sucking harshly at your already reddening skin before his tongue would soothe over his art; licking a stripe up the column of your throat.

Your head fell backwards against the pillows, allowing him more access to assault your flesh. You were already a moaning mess and he hadn’t even touched you.

His fingers skimmed up the sides of your stomach, lifting your back off the bed as he fished the bra from your chest. His lips memorized their way down your neck, leaving marks along your collarbone before he paused just above your breasts. His eyes filtered up to yours through his lashes, silently asking you for permission.

“Please — please” you begged autonomously. At your signal, he wasted no time. His hands cupped around your breasts, kneading them as his mouth sucked and devoured your hardened peaks simultaneously. His teeth grazed along your skin, your back arching off the mattress as your legs tightened around his waist.

“So beautiful” he whispered as he continued to abuse your breasts. With a harsh pop, he pulled away from your chest, pushing up to capture your lips with his. “Cant wait to taste that pretty pussy of yours, baby”

You mewled against his lips, your underwear no doubt soaked through to the point of it being transparent.

“You gonna let me taste you, sweetheart? Please, let me taste you”

You clearly came undone right then. Your nails dug into the sheets beside you as you breathlessly pleaded for him to touch you. He gave a satisfactory hum before his fingers breached the edge of your panties, toying with the lace against your plush hip.

“Pretty little thing” he purred as he moved to spread your legs, settling himself on his knees at the end of the bed.

He trailed a line of wet kisses to the inside of your thighs, his hands placed with such a forceful grip to keep your legs pried open for him. You watched him with bated breath, your lip sucked between your teeth again.

His nose skimmed along your skin as he made his way up torturously slow. His nose nudged against your clothed core as his mouth came to a pause at the edge of your underwear. His tongue darted out, leaving a sloppy trail of saliva over the lace as it soaked through to your searing flesh underneath.

His teeth grabbed the top of your panties, sliding them down your legs until you were bare in front of him. An animalistic growl tore from his chest as his eyes locked into your core; glistening in a sweetness he was dying to savour.

He tightened his hold on your thighs before roughly yanking you towards him, causing you to yelp in surprise. He huffed out a laugh, the air blowing out on your bare cunt. You shuddered, your legs closing instinctively - wrong move.

Deans fingers flexed as he forced open your thighs again, his eyes staring up at you with a fiery desire. “Do that again. I fucking dare you” he scolded, the vein in his neck popping in frustration.

You could only whine out a pathetic ‘sorry’ which seemed good enough for Dean as seconds later his tongue was pressed between your folds.

“Goddamn, baby — you gonna get me pussy drunk with how sweet you taste” an incessant spew of moans fall past your lips as he drinks you in, slurping at your cunt like its the best thing he’s ever eaten.

He hooks your leg over his shoulder, giving him better access to delve his tongue deeper, ravaging every part of you he can reach. Your heel digs into the crease of his back, a pitiful attempt at grounding yourself before you spill against his mouth.

Dean hums against you, the vibrations nearly snapping the coil that has built within your stomach. He feels your legs shake, one hand coming up to rub encouraging circles.

He pulls his mouth away; his nose, lips and chin glistening with your slick and the sight almost sends you over the edge. Instantaneously his fingers replace his absence, toying with your cunt as his thumb moves to tease at your clit.

A slew of curses are thrown into the air as you messily grab at his hand on your thigh, intertwining your fingers with his. His efforts are relentless, pumping in and out of you as you drip down his digits and create a pool on the sheets underneath.

It’s once he curls his fingers inside you that the rubber-band finally snaps and your whole body spasms around him. His fingers work you through it, swirling around your folds as he coats his hand in your release.

“God — you’re too fucking good to me, feeding me when I’ve been so hungry for you” he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean as he groans in fulfillment. He licks his lips, swiping your wetness from off his chin as if he was savoring every last drop of you.

You watch him with half-lidded eyes, your lips parted as small puffs of air tear from your lungs. The sight of him licking himself clean of you has your core throbbing again, a new wave of slick coating your walls.

You push yourself onto your elbows, your hand reaching out to grasp his jaw as you bring him up to your mouth; tongues clashing together in a battle of dominance. His hips rut into the mattress, his erection boarding painful from the lack of attention.

His fingers thread into your hair, wrapping around sweat-slicked strands as he continues to wreck your lips.

“You taste that, my pretty girl? Taste how fucking good you are” he groans into your mouth, making sure to run his tongue over every inch of your gums “Need more… need to stuff your pussy full of my cock — need to fill you up”

A whine pours from your throat yet not a second is wasted as your digits tug at the hem of his shirt. In one fluid movement, the fabric is stripped from his body; his muscle’s flexing as he settles back down between you.

Your cunt tightens around air as your gaze rakes over his body, every crease and hollow is reflected under the dim lighting of the room. Involuntarily your hips rock forward, brushing against his stomach.

“Ah — shit” he curses, his eyes dropping to your trail of slick that now coats his abs. His patience is worn thin, the need to feel your gummy walls clench around him becomes too much.

Theres a brief clinking of metal and the ruffling of jeans as he relives his body of clothing. His cock springs up, slapping against his stomach as his swollen tip glistens in pre-cum.

Like a greedy child, your thumb moves to swipe over his slit before sucking it clean off your finger. A pleased hum vibrated against your throat, his cum coating your tongue like a film.

Deans cock twitched against his abdomen, pulsating red and angry as it sought to be buried deep within your heat.

His hand wraps around his length, a shuddered intake jerking his chest. He shifts his hips, bending your knees and drawing you in closer. He slaps his shaft against your cunt before sliding it through your folds, coating his member in a layer of your wetness.

You hiss, your nails digging crescent moons into your palms. His eyes float up to meet yours as he positions himself at your entrance.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” his tone is soft, genuine.

“Ive never wanted anything more than you” your words serve as reassurance; a pathetic moan escaping Deans throat as he finally sinks into you.

His pace is slow, allowing you time to adjust as your pussy sucks him in. As his balls slap against your heat, he pauses above you — the stretch of him inside you both tender yet addicting.

His fingers skim your cheek, his face lowering to pepper kisses against your skin; your temple, your nose, your eyelids before meeting your lips.

“Doin’ such a good job f’me sweetheart, taking me so well” he praises as his hips slowly rock back and forth, setting a steady rhythm.

Your walls tighten around him, a string of incoherent mumbles spewing into the humid air of your bodies. The life outside is quiet, a stark contrast to the pornographic sloshing of his cock as it squelches in your juices.

Deans eyes fall to where he rocks in and out of you, his cock disappearing between your folds before emerging lathered in your wetness.

“Thats it baby, keeping suckin’ me in — fuck, you feel so good” his pace is becoming dreadfully slow, your body craves to feel every inch of him as he utterly destroys you

“Need you to go faster, Dean” you mewl, fingers curling around his bicep as if you could pull him to go harder.

Immediately his hips snapped forward, sheathing himself fully inside you before pumping in and out at a brutal rate. The fat of your ass rippled relentlessly, your breasts bouncing in sync as he continued to batter your cunt.

Your head lolled back, back subconsciously arching off the bed to take him deeper, feel every vein as it brushes your cervix. His hands shoot to your waist, holding down your body to angle himself just right as he reaches that spongy flesh.

You cry out, everything seemingly becoming too much as his tip kisses and teases that knot forming in your belly.

Dean only growls as your walls flutter around him, arms flexing as he tries to fight back his own simmering release.

“Could stay buried within’ your sweet little pussy all day” his hips stutter briefly “S’ like you were made for me — you’re the only thing i did right”

His name leaves your lips in a breathless chant; a warning. You can feel the knot tightening in your stomach — his length antagonizing you, testing how long you would be able to last.

You try to claw at the mattress, attempting to break away as the sensation overwhelms you but he holds you close. His body comes to encase yours, forearms resting beside your head as his lips dip to the shell of your ear.

“You’re so fucking perfect, too innocent for this world” his teeth nip at your earlobe, hot breath tickling the skin of your neck.

His words were ironic given your current state; cheeks glossed with tears of pleasure, lips swole and bitten, his cock pumping in and out of your tight hole as the only sounds filling the room were that of your lewd moans and his balls spanking against the flesh of your ass.

“Ive got you, pretty girl” at his signal the heat in your belly boiled over, body spasming under him as your ears rang and vision turned bleary.

Through your haze you barely made out the approval of his words, his voice strained and low; “Look at you, creamin’ around my cock”

He worked you through your high, pace keeping steady before he suddenly pulled out; thick ropes of cum painting your puffy cunt. Your walls clenched at the empty feeling, already missing having him make you feel so full.

His fingers glided through your folds, pinching your clit and eliciting a sensitive whine from you. He lathered up a mixture of both his and your release before stuffing his fingers inside you, making sure nothing went to waste.

His fingers pulled out with a squelch before he brought them up your lips, nudging at your mouth. You enclosed around his digits, tongue swirling over the tops of his fingers as you drank down the last of both your releases.

He placed a gentle kiss atop your temple before capturing your mouth with his.

“You did so well, love — you okay?” his eyebrows knitted together as he examined your worn out state. You could barely muster a nod in response, your legs still shaking and chest still heaving from the aftermath.

Dean patted the outside of your thigh before he was off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom. He returned only moments later, a damp towel in hand as he clambered back over to you.

He delicately spread your legs, pressing the towel along the inside of your thighs and over your core as he worked to clean the sticky mess of your body. Your teeth ground together as he drew along your tender flesh.

“Sorry, pretty lady, but i gotta get you cleaned up” he murmured, tossing the soiled towel to the side as he finished.

He helped lift your hips from off the sheets, gliding your bare form underneath the warmth as he slid in next to you. His arm wound its away around your waist, drawing you in as your head perched against his chest; the steading beat of his heart pounding into your ear.

He left a kiss to the top of your hairline, his lips resting on your slightly sweaty and flushed skin. Your fingers skimmed along his chest, tracing along the lines of the tattoo inked into his body.

A comfortable silence blanketed the two of you before your quiet voice broke the air: “I know i didn’t say it before but I love you too, Dean —”

“You dont gotta say anything, sweetheart… havin’ you here’s enough for me” he cut you off, hold tightening around your waist.

“But i want to” your chin perched upon his shoulder, eyes peering up at him through thick lashes. “I dont want you to think you’re alone in this, Dean because i feel the exact same way… I always have, I was just scared of ruining whatever we had”

He scoffed, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“Baby, if i ever rejected you, id damn sure have lost my mind”

a/n: idk what i just wrote

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles #solider boy #supernatural #dean winchester imagine #smut #fluff #fanfic #spn #dean winchester smut #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #jensen ackles x you

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jasvtsc · 1 day ago

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diet pepsi

warnings! age gap. dbf!dean. innocent!reader. female!reader. smut. unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it). graphic language. grammar mistakes.

word count! 1.9k

dean winchester was the forbidden fruit you so desperately craved.

he was your father’s friend. your dad helped him during a hunt when they were younger and in exchange, dean helped your family quit the hunters' life. despite that, he still found a moment to come over from time to time for dinner or other stuff like that.

however, lately, his presence has begun to affect you more and more prominently. every time he’d come over for the annual dinner, you’d be sitting quietly in front of him, your thighs squeezed together as you felt the heat pooling in your core, slowly seeping into your panties and making them stick to your skin. he’d ask you things about college and other stuff and you’d just murmur, digging your food with a fork to distract yourself from the infuriating tension in your body.

you needed him.

badly.

but he was your dad’s friend. and the fact that he was feeding into your desires didn’t help.

he would smirk at you, clearly noticing how hot and bothered you were by his presence and behaviour. at this point he could easily recognize when women were attracted to him and you were just so innocent, trying your best to hide your arousal that it didn’t take him long to pick on the visible clues. so he’d tease you discreetly, right in front of your parents. he was playing a dangerous game and you just fell right into it. but you were just so attractive now that you were all grown up, and he couldn’t control himself around pretty girls.

so, he’d caress your leg from your ankle to your calf under the table, making you shiver. as well as brush his hands against your body while passing by, especially against your ass or hands. and you were eating it up every time, trying to prevent yourself from pouncing on him altogether. your body was going through all these new things that kept building up and you didn’t know how to relieve yourself. but you knew who could help you.

dean fucking winchester.

so when you were leaving back to college and he offered to drop you off at the bus station, you were ecstatic as if you won a lottery or something.

cause honestly? you kind of did.

however, as soon as you found yourself in winchester’s impala, your hands clasped together on your lap, you tried your best not to look at him. you could feel the way his gaze was burning your skin even though he was only stealing glances from the corner of his eye. damn, it was actually kind of intimidating, being with him on your own.

“you know, you grew up real pretty, sweetheart,” he hummed, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel.

you looked at him hesitantly, the heat wave striking you ten times harder.

he just complimented you.

“thank you,” you responded with a shy smile, fiddling with your fingers.

he turned his head slightly more towards you and fuck, he just wanted to ravish you. his lower lip was caught between his teeth as he took in a sharp breath, at this point, shamelessly ogling you up and down. it was so weird, cause he knew you since you were a child but now you were a grown woman—a very attractive one on top of that. damn, these curves of yours. only recently did he begin to notice that and it’s been hell ever since. but since he was already there once, what’s there to lose?

he could feel his pants significantly tighten, his dick beginning to stir to life, hardening against the inside of his thigh. he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

i’m just supposed to drop her off at the bus station, he thought to himself when suddenly your voice brought him back to reality.

“you just missed the stop,” you hummed, pointing your finger at the passing parking lot, slightly leaning forward.

dean cursed and turned his head to look at the station now disappearing in the side-view mirror. with a sigh, he turned back towards you, however, he didn’t expect your face to be so close to his. his eyes widened as your lips almost brushed in a kiss. but he quickly pulled away, almost swerving the car off the road. he uttered a short ‘fuck’ under his breath, quickly getting back in the lane and then clearing his throat.

“well, it looks like i’m gonna drop you off myself,” he quickly gave you that cheeky grin and you just nodded your head obediently, a small ‘oh’ escaping your lips as you weren’t sure if you even had it in yourself to protest. after all, that meant more time with him.

and well, it certainly did.

you’re not sure how the situation resolved to you kissing aggressively in the back of his car after he pulled over on the side of the road where cars barely passed. everything up to that point felt as if it was behind a thick fog of lust that clouded your brain and only now was getting released.

“jesus christ, your ass looks so good in those jeans,” he groaned appreciatively, cupping your butt and squeezing it through the denim of your pants that tightly clung to your skin, only accenting your curves. you blushed heavily and hid your face in the crook of his neck, playfully nipping at his skin.

he let out a guttural growl, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back so you were facing him, and then he smashed his lips on yours once again. his other hand was splayed on your hip, holding you tightly as you straddled him, your clothed core rubbing against his hard bulge with every little move you made.

“baby, keep doing that and i won’t be able to control myself anymore. you’re literally my friend’s daughter. what we’re doing now is already bad enough,” he sighed, slightly pulling back so he could stroke your cheek with the pad of his calloused thumb.

“but no one has to know,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

“baby—” he started but you quickly cut him off.

“please, i need you,” and the way you said it would be enough to kill him. you practically whimpered in such a pleading tone, your hips softly grinding against his erection. at first, he wanted to be strong and resist the temptation, but he simply couldn’t say no to you.

“fine. but not even a word to anyone about it, ‘kay? you’re a big girl, so i trust that you will behave like one too, right?” he hummed, cocking his brow up as he rubbed your lower lip with his thumb.

“yes. i promise,” you nodded eagerly, your eyes immediately lighting up. and the way he smiled at you all proud that you listened to him, was enough to make your pussy ache for his dick.

“good girl. such a good girl,” he whispered breathlessly, pulling you in for another kiss as he turned you around, so you were lying flat on your back, on the backseat.

his hand snaked down between your bodies, easily getting rid of your jeans, and lowering them down enough for him to snuck his fingers onto your panties. he groaned and bit on your lip as his digits were met with a soft fabric dampened with your juices.

“already so wet for me, huh? you were waitin’ for that, baby? waitin’ to be touched like a good little girl?” he chuckled into your lips, the vibration of his voice sending chills through your body and then straight to your core.

he started rubbing your folds with his fingers to which you whimpered, pushing your hips up to meet his hand. however, he stilled your movement, keeping you down with just one hand, his fingers gripping your side and you knew there’d be bruises from them the next day.

“nuh-uh. patience, sweetheart. no rush,” he cooed, slowing the rubbing movement of his fingers.

you huffed out an annoyed breath but nodded, submitting yourself to his will. he grinned and moved his thumb through your slit, stopping on your clit. he pressed on the sensitive bud, making you let out a soft moan. you closed your eyes and bit your lower lip, letting out a needy whimper. dean quickly pulled your panties to the side and while his thumb kept skillfully working you up at your clit, his other hand moved to his hard cock.

he unbuckled his belt smoothly and tugged his pants down along with his boxers, freeing his throbbing length. it hit his stomach, precum already leaking from the tip. you widened your eyes and basically felt your mouth water at the sight of his massive dick. before you could even say anything, he rubbed the head of it against your folds, spreading them apart as he slowly gathered your juices. you panted heavily, holding onto his shoulders as he nudged the head of his cock at your entrance.

and it hit you at that moment—you were about to lose your innocence.

but then again, why did it feel so exciting and your stomach was fluttering so funny?

as soon as he entered your tight passage, you almost screamed, jolting up. dean slowly eased his way inside your wet pussy as it squelched around him, cradling the back of your head as he pulled you close.

“shh, baby. shh, it’s fine. just relax. it’ll feel good,” he soothed you, stopping for a second so you could get used to his thick cock practically splitting you open.

and soon, you relaxed, your muscles giving in and familiarising themselves with each vein that throbbed, deliciously caressing your heat, only making you more aroused.

when he finally started moving, you were making sounds out of the adult movies, windows beginning to fog up with how hard both of you were breathing. at first, dean was slowly rocking his hips back and forth, not really pulling out that much, so you’d get used to how it felt. but as soon as he saw you enjoying yourself, he picked up the pace and started thrusting into your pussy more vigorously, his muscles flexing as he supported himself on one hand, the other holding you close to his body as your cunt sucked him inside eagerly.

“so fuckin’ tight, baby. just for me. you’re such a dirty girl, letting your dad’s friend fuck you in the back of his car. shit, you’re a desperate little thing. but i like it,” he panted and chuckled, leaning down to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his beard tickling your skin as he nipped at it, making sure to leave hickeys and mark you properly.

as soon as he felt your walls began to clamp down on him, he picked up his pace intending to make you cum on his cock.

“dean, i—”

“i know, baby. i know. just let it go. come for me,” he reassured, connecting your lips in a kiss and soon, your pussy squeezed him tightly as your body shuddered, convulsing in an overwhelming pleasure accompanied by your loud moan.

dean groaned and pressed his forehead against yours as his thrusts grew sloppier. he wanted to help you come down from your high, but when he felt the coil in his stomach tighten, he quickly pulled out and came on your stomach, painting it white with his scorching hot and pearly cum.

“fuckin’ christ. that was so good, sweetheart,” he praised, chuckling breathlessly as he kissed your lips again. “and remember…”

“...don’t tell anybody,” you finished, trying to catch your breath.

“good girl,” he smiled and moved a strand of hair out of your sweat-covered forehead.

a/n: dedicated to my lovely and amazing girlie @titsout4nicholas mwah !!

a/n2: lets ignore the diet coke in the picture i couldn’t find aesthetically pleasing one with pepsi💀

༄♡tags: @frosttbitessam @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell @figthoughts @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @artyandink @10ava01 @abellmunsonmovie

#🫧 — kas writes #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural one shot #supernatural #supernatural smut #spn #spn one shot #spn smut #spn x you #spn x reader #jensen ackles #dbf!dean winchester #dbf!dean winchester x reader

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wandering-winchesters · 3 months ago

Text

Breaking the Walls

Summary: Dean struggles with his growing feelings for you, battling the fear of letting you in while also being terrified of losing you.

Word Count: 1,093

Masterlist

His mind wasn’t on the hunt or the latest supernatural threat. Instead, it was on you. He couldn't shake the thought of the way you'd looked at him earlier that day, a mix of worry and something else he couldn’t quite place. Dean wasn’t one to dwell on feelings—he’d spent too long burying them under layers of sarcasm and bravado—but when it came to you, it was different. You had a way of getting under his skin, making him feel things he wasn’t sure he had the right to feel.

As he continued to chew on the straw, his thoughts wandered to the last conversation you had. There was something in your voice, a softness that tugged at the edges of his heart. It was a feeling he hadn’t allowed himself to explore, but tonight, sitting here in the quiet of the bar, he couldn’t help but let his mind drift to you.

Dean sighed, finally letting go of the straw. He knew he had to keep his distance, to protect you from the chaos that followed him like a shadow. But the more he tried to push you away, the more he found himself drawn to you, craving the comfort and warmth that only you could offer.

In the end, it was a battle he wasn’t sure he could win. And maybe, just maybe, he was starting to realize that he didn’t want to.

Dean swirled the ice in his glass, the clinking sound a soothing rhythm that matched the thud of his heart. He glanced up, catching his reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The man staring back at him looked tired, worn down by years of fighting battles that never seemed to end. But beneath that weariness, there was a flicker of something else—something that scared him more than any monster ever could.

Hope.

Hope that maybe, despite everything, he could have something good. Something real. And that terrified him, because every time he let someone in, every time he allowed himself to care, it always ended in pain. But with you, it was different. You were different. You made him want to be better, to be the kind of man who could actually deserve someone like you.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this. But there was no denying it anymore. Every time he saw you, every time you smiled at him, it chipped away at the walls he’d built around his heart.

Dean took a long sip of his drink, the burn of whiskey doing little to calm the storm brewing inside him. He knew he was being reckless, knew that letting himself feel this way was dangerous. But he couldn’t help it. You had become a part of him, whether he liked it or not, and the thought of losing you—of not having you in his life—was something he couldn’t bear to imagine.

The sound of the door opening behind him pulled Dean from his thoughts. He didn’t need to turn around to know it was you. He could sense your presence, like a warm breeze cutting through the cold. His body tensed, anticipation and anxiety warring within him as he waited for you to speak.

You slid onto the stool beside him, your shoulder brushing against his in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence heavy with unspoken words.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” you finally said, your voice soft but full of concern. “Everything okay?”

Dean hesitated, his eyes fixed on the amber liquid in his glass. He wanted to lie, to say that everything was fine, that he was just tired from the hunt. But the truth was clawing at his throat, desperate to be let out. And for once, he wasn’t sure he had the strength to keep it locked away.

“Just thinking,” he replied, his voice low and rough.

“About?” you prompted, turning slightly to face him.

He took a deep breath, his fingers tightening around his glass. This was it. The moment of truth. He could either keep running, keep hiding behind the mask he’d worn for so long, or he could take a leap of faith and let you in.

“I’ve been thinking about us,” he said finally, the words tasting foreign and unfamiliar on his tongue.

You blinked, surprise flickering in your eyes. “Us?”

Dean nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. “Yeah. Us. And how maybe… I don’t want to keep pushing you away.”

The silence that followed was deafening, every second stretching into an eternity as he waited for your response. He could see the wheels turning in your mind, your eyes searching his for answers, for some sign of what he was really trying to say.

When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper. “Dean, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying… I care about you,” he admitted, the words heavy with the weight of everything he’d been holding back. “More than I should. And it scares the hell out of me, because I don’t know how to do this. How to let someone in without screwing everything up.”

Your expression softened, a small, understanding smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “You don’t have to do it alone, you know. I’m here. I’ve always been here.”

Dean’s throat tightened, emotion threatening to overwhelm him. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. He wasn’t supposed to let you in, wasn’t supposed to let himself feel this way. But here you were, breaking down his defenses with nothing more than your kindness and your patience.

He reached out, his hand finding yours on the bar. The simple touch was electric, sending a surge of warmth through his veins. “I don’t want to lose you,” he confessed, his voice raw with vulnerability. “But I don’t know how to keep you safe, either. And that’s what scares me the most.”

You squeezed his hand gently, your gaze unwavering. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Dean nodded, the tension in his chest easing just a little. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different. That he could have something good, something worth fighting for.

And as you sat there, hand in hand, the future didn’t seem quite so terrifying anymore. Because no matter what came next, he knew he wouldn’t be facing it alone.

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sanjoongie · 10 months ago

Text

𝔽𝕖𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝔽𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝟚𝟜

🥀These prompts are hosted by @thelargefrye and myself, masterlist can be seen here

🥀The following is a month full of Ateez smut. Minors, please do not interact. Various tropes and aus will be utilized as I see fit. This is both a challenge and treat for me as a writing, so I hope you can enjoy it with me!

🥀divider made by @cafekitsune on masterlist and all subsequent posts

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

🥀Day One: Deepthroating- Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when yunho leaves wooyoung to work on assembling the ship himself, you're left to relieve the stress wooyoung has built up

🥀Day Two: Cheating / Creampie- Jongho

🥀Summary: in which you're assigned the alias as Jongho's wife and he takes that pretty fucking seriously

🥀Day Three: Mirror Sex- Hongjoong

🥀Summary: When you chant Bloody Mary in the mirror to get a glimpse of your future husband, you see the Grim Reaper instead, but those aren't mutually exclusive

🥀Day Four: Public Sex- San

🥀Summary: When San comes to you, the local wise woman (read rumored witch), to get a bullet wound dressed, he's also looking to convince you to let him under your skirts, and your heart

🥀Day Five: Dacryphilia- Yunho

🥀Summary: you guide your golden retriever hybrid boyfriend through his first time and you discover you have an affinity for his pretty face when he cries

🥀Day Six: Auralism / Sensory Deprivation - Mingi

🥀Summary: one the full moon, you play a game of Find and Fuck, where you hunt down Mingi with only the sound of his noises as he masturbates

🥀Day Seven: Voyeurism- Seonghwa

🥀Summary: Seonghwa, in pursuit of knowing your body better for breeding techniques, asks if you could show him how you pleasure yourself. The alien soon learns he likes watching you, like all the aliens do

🥀Day Eight: Experimental / Nipple Play- Yeosang

🥀Summary: after an unfortunate accident with your shears, you visit the doctor, only to be surprised by his magic. fate throws you into a blind date with the doctor and then your curiosity gets the better of you when the blind date develops.

🥀Day Nine: Praise / Long Distance Sex- Yunho

🥀Summary: when Yunho calls you one day, drunk and missing you, you let him guide you through some stress releasing phone sex

🥀Day Ten: Hate Fucking - Yeosang

🥀Summary: when you claim that Yeosang was a man of no emotions and Yeosang demanded you prove yourself right, a passionate and hot sex session follows

🥀Day Eleven: Somnophilia- Mingi

🥀Summary: you make an agreement with your incubus friend that he can feed on you, if only while you’re sleeping

🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: wooyoung is just a loser guy in the 2000’s and you’re the hot 2000’s girl that’s considering letting him go down on you… at a cost, of course

🥀Day Thirteen: Uniform - Seonghwa

🥀Summary: When your first mate successfully enacts a mutiny, you’re left with one simple task… to be his cum bucket

🥀Day Fourteen: Threesome / Ritual - San/ Hongjoong

🥀Summary: when San and Hongjoong decide to join your valentine’s day ritual, you get the surprise of a lifetime: a threesome!

🥀Day Fifteen: Femdom / Degradation - Jongho

🥀Summary: as the advisor to a strong lord, and the true power behind the powerful man, you often put Jongho in his place. He adores it, including summoning a certain knight to help, among other degrading acts

🥀Day Sixteen: Cockwarming - Mingi

🥀Summary: when you crave some time with one of your busy boyfriends, the compromise turns out to be everything you need with an unexpected surprise

🥀Day Seventeen: Body Worship - San

🥀Summary: San shows that you deserve to be spoiled like the queen you are, and why exactly he was the one chosen to be your first consort

🥀Day Eighteen: Size Kink - Jongho

🥀Summary: When a particular mission causes you to almost tip over the edge from hero to villain, Jongho is the soothing balm to take your stress away

🥀Day Nineteen: Masturbation / Edging - Yunho

🥀Summary: Yunho decides the best way to stop you from beating him in a race to create the best app in a technology contest is to distract you... with his body

🥀Day Twenty: Soft Dom-Sub / Roleplay - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when you decide the healthy outlet to a rumored lifestyle with your younger lover is in fact to play out a scenario of a woman cheating on her husband with the pool boy

🥀Day Twenty-One: Aphrodisiacs / Overstim - Hongjoong

🥀Summary: Hongjoong accidentally scratches you with his poisonous tail, and the results because of your mating and Seonghwa’s genetically-spiced saliva, are pleasurable for the both of you

🥀Day Twenty-Two: Double Penetration - Seonghwa/Yeosang

🥀Summary: Yeosang is in love with his best friend AND his best friend’s girlfriend. What he doesn’t know is you have a grand Master plan to bring you all together

🥀Day Twenty-Three: Breeding Kink - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when you took Wooyoung in as a stray hybrid, you didn’t think about triggering his rut

🥀Day Twenty-Four: Pegging / Feminization - Mingi

🥀Summary: Mingi got all dressed up for you to fuck him with your strap-on

🥀Day Twenty-Five: Free Use / Spit Play - San/Seonghwa

🥀Summary: a new club is opened in the Choi’s territory, your newly required husbands, in your honor and you arrive with Seonghwa and San in order to christen it properly

🥀Day Twenty-Six: Tentacle sex - Yunho

🥀Summary: an incubus thinks you’re a tasty witch snack as a widow, and it’s about to turn your day around

🥀Day Twenty-Seven: Cuckolding - Yeosang/Jongho

🥀Summary: not every couple purchases an android just for the purpose of cuckolding your husband, but it was well worth it’s weight in crypto credits

🥀Day Twenty-Eight: Predator-Prey / Strength Kink - Hongjoong

🥀Summary: when you and your gaming friend learn about a glitch in one of your favorite games, you exploit it on an erotic level

🥀Day Twenty-Nine: Gangbang - ot8

🥀Summary: as the office pet, your duties after hours are completely different

#joongfryefff24 #topaz's work #ღatz #ateez smut #kim hongjoong smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #kang yeosang smut #choi san smut #song mingi smut #jung wooyoung smut #choi jongho smut

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 2 months ago

Note

Can I request #94 ☁️ with Jack Hughes?

For some reason this prompt was really hard for me to write. Everything my brain was coming up was super dark, so I hope you like this nonnie. Also I hope you don't mind I changed "they" to "someone"

Drabble Masterlist

"Did they hurt you?"

When you walked into the club, all you wanted to do was have a few drinks with your friends and dance the night away. All you wanted was a few hours disconnected from the world to forget about the stress of the week and the stupid fight you got in with your boyfriend Jack. Instead, you somehow lost your friends in the crowd on the dance floor. Suddenly alone and a little drunk despite only having a few drinks. All you could feel is your quickened heartbeat as you tried to push your way through the crowd. The club had way too many people and suddenly you regretted even leaving your little apartment. You were craving air, somehow you were pushed to the ground in the mush-pit that was the dance floor. Finally crawling back up, you turned your body and pushed yourself through the crowd.

It took you until you were outside to realize that your fishnet stockings were ripped in multiple places, your makeup was smudged from the sweat of being inside the hot club and your hands were covered in little cuts from people stepping on your hands. Standing outside you could feel the crispy cold air from the beginning of fall in New Jersey. Without even thinking you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber to the one place you felt most safe.

Jack opened the door in shock to see you. Usually when you both had a fight you at least let each other cool off for a night. But once he took in your appearance, your slightly ripped clothes, the dried blood on your hands, the way you weren't breathing evenly his stomach dropped as he pulled you into his arms. He slightly kicked the door shut with his foot as he held you in the small entry of his apartment. As soon as you felt his arms wrap around your body, you clenched onto his t-shirt with your hands and fell into him as you sobbed. Your emotions from being intoxicated plus almost having a small anxiety attack in the club.

Without even thinking picked you up, automatically you wrapped your legs around his waist. One of his arms moving to pet your messy hair as he cooed in your ear. "shh baby, shh it's alright baby. your safe baby. promise." His promise making you cry a little harder maybe out of relief for knowing it's true. With your eyes closed and your head tucked into Jack's neck you didn't even know where he was carrying you until you felt him try to put you down.

"no. no. no" speaking for the first time since you got here. Jack held you tighter trying to reassure you that you were okay.

"baby I'm just gonna let you sit on the sink in the bathroom. I'm gonna wash your makeup off okay, and I wanna clean your hands." he whispered to you softly. Slowly you let Jack sit you down on the end of his sink, still standing between your legs. He reaches behind you in the cabinet next to the mirror and grabs his first aid kit and your makeup wipes he keeps in stock for you. Finally getting a good at your hands his jaw locks suddenly feel anger form in the pit of his stomach. "honey" he cooed at you, lightly grabbing one of your hands and you winced. "Did someone hurt you?" All you could do is nod looking down at your own hands. "Who?" he asked sharply, without a doubt thinking of ways to hunt them down in the moment.

"I got pushed to the ground somehow at the club." you admitted shyly suddenly embarrassed about being pushed around so easily. Jack grabbed an alcohol wipe and started lightly cleaning your hands.

"That's not okay." he said bitterly. "Where were your friends?" Even though he sounded bitter, his touch was soft as he was focused on cleaning your hand and then putting Neosporin on it.

"lost them in the crowd."

Finishing with that hand, he moved on to the next without saying a word. Then he threw away all the trash from cleaning your hands and pulled out a makeup wipe. He still hadn't spoken but you didn't need him to, just the fact that he was the one cleaning you up made you feel better. His eyebrows were creased focusing on getting your stubborn makeup off without having to put too much pressure on your face. His tongue slightly sticking out as he grabbed another makeup wipe, you closed your eyes your body relaxing to the feeling.

"baby?" Jack asked softly.

"hmm"

"Gotta make sure you don't have any other cuts. Do you wanna change here or in my room?" He asked his arms softly wrapping around you as you felt yourself craving sleep.

"bed. I wanna go to bed." you whined. Jack lightly chuckled. He carried you to his bed lightly sitting you down, without hesitation you flopped onto the bed.

"Oh no you don't" Jack said as he took your arm to pull you back up to sitting.

"I wanna go to bed." you complained again.

"And we can once you change." he reasoned.

"too tired you do it." you mumbled too tired to even open your eyes.

"okay honey if that's what you want." lightly kissing your forehead before letting you lay down on the bed, your legs hanging off the edge as Jack got you one of his t-shirts and boxers to change into. You could feel Jack struggling trying to change you but you couldn't bring yourself to change. He found another deep cut on your knee and cleaned it without you even twitching. He knew you were deep in sleep by now.

Finally he cleaned everything up and climbed into bed with you. He pulled you close to him and you slightly moved to form around his body. He didn't know if you were awake or not but he still kissed your forehead. "I'm sorry I wasn't there tonight." he whispered not expecting you to answer.

"It's okay. You cleaned me up and your here now that's more important." you mumbled wrapping your arms around Jack tighter and slipping back into unconsciousness.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fic #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #hughes imagine

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austinsastrology8991 · 2 years ago

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How PLUTo haunts your HOUSE > Pluto in the houses < Pluto Destroys to give you the power of DESTRUCTION - live with it or die by it

Pluto in the First - destroys others with a look. Watch as everyone crumbles before them, as they try to muster up the courage to look them in the eye. But when the facade fades, everyone mocks them. They either look smug or pissed off, and it really rubs everyone the wrong way, and it rubs themselves the wrong way too. Pluto in the Second - Refusal to be devalued. No matter what you throw at them, they will stay the same. They do have twisted morals, "but every man gotta have a code" until > "they are more like guidelines." They'll change the rules and their own code of ethic so it doesn't interfere with their newest plans. Basically will never follow orders Pluto in the Third - Masters of words, can convince you anything, no matter how retarded, but when you try to teach them something, they have an infinite amount of answers as to why its retarded. These guys are so smart, but so cunning > so people would rather eaves drop their conversations instead Pluto in the Fourth - Unbreakable people who pretend to be broken. They act like they are fragile, but they are just emotional. Everyone tries to prove how weak or strong they are by hitting them again. But this just pisses them off some more. Everyones favourite punching bag Pluto in the Fifth - They act so satisfied, and people wonder what they have accomplished, but they only act this way because they fucked your crush and their sister. In their eyes the way others perceives you makes or breaks you, so they toss out any morality holding them back and curate the perfect image, whilst they are slowly turning into satan. true masters of disguise. Pluto in the Sixth - works way too hard. even when they sleeping they are manifesting in their dreams. Insane work ethic, but others hate them for being try hards. So they get sabotaged a lot, but this only makes them work harder lol Pluto in the Seventh - They know what you want and they embody the forbidden apple that you crave. Everyone resents their ability to play others. And even if you stay outta their way, they'll play everyone around them just to piss you off (unconsciously they'll say). They have little regard for others, because they feel people use them, when they are usually the users. Obsessed with their crush. Pluto in the Eighth - True understanding of power and intrigue. They never reveal their true intentions because they are demonic. But they use this as their allure and throw more smokes and mirrors at you. And everyone around them is fixated on trying to understand them. Until their secrets are revealed, then everyone condemns them for existing. Pluto in the Ninth - They have thought of every intention, every manipulation, every potential secret, so that they cannot be outdone. Until they are, then they re-strategise, and they will make any excuse to themselves as to how their loss is technically a win. Pluto in the Tenth - They gonna get it whatever the goal, the means justify the ends every time. They'll literally make a deal with the devil if it defines victory. They refuse to follow society, so they break it, and make society their bitch. Pluto in the Eleventh - Extreme desires, and extremely fearful they won't make it. So they pull strings with shady characters, who inevitably resent them for letting them being played by someone new to the game. So they got a lot of enemies, and a lot of friends, and the lines are blurred for who is who. Pluto in the Twelth - Everything in life has broken them > when they got injured > when they were 'medicated' > when they came home to their pissed off family. they feel they never get a break. i think life wants to break them, so they realise they are the strongest. but they stay broken because nothing ever stops trying to hunt them down.

Pluto is scary, but its not meant to scare you, but to scare others. well maybe scare everyone...

#pluto houses #pluto aspects #astrology #astrology observations #astrology notes #astrology placements #house placements #astrology blog #astro community #astrology houses

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entities-of-posts · 7 months ago

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Hi, I have a question not directly tied to the roleplay (though I don't mind if you answer it in that direction): A while ago, you talked about your theory of a potential 16th Fear emerging to balance the emerging Extinction: the Dull. I find that concept compelling, but in that post you also said that each of the powers has an "opposite" due to how people like to categorise things and I'd be curious what you would consider the opposite of each power. (Mostly because I like lists and sorting things xD)

Some do have a pretty clear opposite (Vast/Buried, Lonely/Corruption), but with a lot of the others it's less immediately obvious or simply up to a bit more interpretation. iirc Elias says the Stranger is the antithesis to the Eye, but the Dark and the Spiral similarly foil its central concepts, and I'm not sure what else their opposites would be, really.

Let me just preface this list by saying that this is my own opinion and interpretation, and thus 100% right and correct and indisputable.

I will also say that there are Fears which I would call near opposites, but imperfect mirrors - such as the Stranger and the Eye - and some that just seem to hate each other without being antithesis - such as the Desolation and the Corruption. It’s also worth mentioning that overlap always exist between mirrors, of course; this is why there is a classic duality between the moon and the sun, but no one talks about the duality between the moon and a giraffe, even though they have much less in common.

That said, here is my list:

The Vast - The Buried: the most widely agreed upon. Spaces too large versus too small. The terrible freedom of being adrift in an endless ocean, of freefall, versus being crushed in place with not the space to crawl an inch. You get it. The comparison is so clear and easy that it kickstarts the speculation about all the others.

The Eye - the Dark: extremely straightforward; just as much as the Vast and the Buried, to me. Knowledge versus the lack of it. Stark light versus impenetrable darkness. What sees you versus what you cannot see. Literally symbolized respectively by an open eye and a closed one.

The Corruption - the Lonely: Toxic love versus miserable isolation. An overabundance of company, much too close, under your very skin, a swarm of uninvited guests within your deepest sanctuary who will not leave, versus a life so barren of any company at all that that you might almost start to crave the former. The heat of fever versus the cold of fog.

The Web - the Desolation: careful planning versus reckless destruction. A trap so intricately laid, hundreds of delicate moving pieces and redundancy measures waiting for just the right time… so easily laid to waste by an unthinking, spontaneous act of cruel hunger for rubbles. Man’s quest, since the dawn of time, has been to tame and leash fire. And we still haven’t mastered it.

The Hunt - the End: a wild fight for life versus its cold ending. The journey versus the destination. The two oldest fears. The Chase wants more than anything to never End. The End doesn’t Chase; it just waits. And you’re the one that walks towards it every instant.

The Stranger - the Slaughter: here is the part of the list where people start to look at me oddly, because they’ve often never considered those pairings; but hear me out, and remember that I am inarguably correct. The fear of something Else pretending to be human versus the fear of what truly lies at the core of every human person. The fear of being tricked by an elaborate disguise versus the intimate knowledge of the truth: that those who hurt others aren’t monsters disguised as people. They’re just people. And the urge is in you too. Masks, versus what is revealed when all masks are cast off. And they both have musical motifs which makes for some fun parallels.

The Spiral - the Flesh: the horror of the mind versus the horror of the body. Unreality versus a reality only too physical, only too inescapable. Your brain is lying to you, but your body keeps the score. Follow the patterns, the Spiral says, there is more, they are lying to you, just follow me down - this is all there is, the Flesh whispers, this is the raw and dripping truth, this is all you are and you will never escape it. The Distortion even admits it can’t digest an avatar of the Flesh.

#you can argue with me about these but be warned I will not change my mind. I have given this so much thought and I am convinced about it.#Johnny himself couldn’t convince me otherwise

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thenightshadowqueen · 2 months ago

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Okay I said I had more to say about Victor and Eli and I’m rereading Vicious again so here we go. (This is going to be a long one.)

Okay. I’m going to try and get my thoughts to be coherent but I’m struggling because oh my fucking god I just want to scream about them. That being said, I’m going to try to make sense, but this is mostly just going to be a rambling rant of all my thoughts of them.

The thing is. The thing is. Victor is obsessive by nature. He picks one thing, and he lives for it. For the majority of Vicious, what he lives for is revenge. He never thought about the after. In Vengeful, his obsession is finding a cure. But back at Lockland, his obsession was Eli. He saw this monstrous thing, hidden under this near-perfect façade, and he was fascinated. Eli “stole” Angie (his previous obsession, from the way he talks about her in the few mentions she gets), and Victor couldn’t even find it in himself to be angry, because he was too interested in Eli.

From what we know of Victor, he almost never finds someone he can tolerate, let alone someone he likes. And that must be desperately lonely, living like that, but he wouldn’t have realised that. Not until Eli. So no wonder he can’t let him go, even after everything. And Victor doesn’t keep grudges. He kills people out of necessity, yes, and practicality, but not out of vengeance. He doesn’t hold on to things. Except for Eli. Because when you have that much love for someone, and you base so much of your life around them, and then they betray you (how Victor sees it), you can’t just let that go. You can’t just move on. Victor didn’t just feel betrayed; he lost his best friend (and the man he was in love with). And that’s not something you can forget.

Now, look at it from Eli’s perspective. He’s spent his whole life trying to mimic human emotions, trying to be like everyone else, trying to bury this thing inside him that doesn’t fit in. And then he meets Victor, and he sees himself. And, slowly, he starts to realise that he can open up. He can be himself. I don’t think most of this was conscious for Eli—he’d spent so long masking that I don’t think he even knew he was doing it anymore—but I think it’s a big part of why he was in love with drawn to Victor. Imagine spending your whole life repressing yourself, and then finally finding someone who not only accepts your sharp edges but craves them. That would be so fucking addicting.

And then Victor kills Angie, and it’s like confirmation of everything Eli was afraid of: that this dark thing in you really is evil. After all, its mirror, your best friend, just murdered your girlfriend. (Again, I don’t think this was conscious for Eli, but I do think it played a role in the path he went down.)

But no one has ever understood either of them like the other did, and no one ever will. And because of that, they’re both so deeply, wholeheartedly obsessed with each other. They spend so much of their time planning to murder each other, trying to impress each other, playing these dark games with each other. Victor could have just sent a message to meet up with Eli, but instead, he set up an elaborate riddle game via the police EO database. Entirely unnecessary, but crucial to them and their deepseated obsession with each other. And Eli played along. And in Vengeful, Eli could have told Stell that they were hunting Victor. But he didn’t. He couldn’t, because he needed to be the one to kill Victor. Victor was his, in whatever way you want to interpret that phrase.

And I guess that’s what it boils down to. Victor is Eli’s, and Eli is Victor’s. His to love, and his to hate, and his to kill. And that is the great tragedy of Evervale.

#that last line might be a bit dramatic #or pretentious #but I’m happy with it #vicious #vicious ve schwab #victor vale #eli ever #evervale

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ellieluvr420 · 9 months ago

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Eye for an Eye Pt.1

MASTERLIST (and information about Palestine) Please read!

SYNOPSIS: Your body yearned for the touch of your girlfriend, the warm embrace that calmed your mind but you couldn't give in, the anger you harboured for her at disappearing with her group for three months without any warning, explanation or even a mention of when she would be back stopped you in your tracks any time you got close to giving in. You loved Abby so much but looking at her made you sick, you couldn't push the feelings down no matter how much you craved for things to go back to what they once were. You hadn't planned this but the anguish in those green eyes mirrored yours and sucked you in before you could think twice about the repercussions of your actions. You made your bed when you made the deal with the auburn-haired stranger, eventually you'd have to lie in it.

Okay i know the vote isn’t over yet but there is a pretty overwhelming majority so here it is! i’m sorry if this is not what u wanted but i promise friends?never is gonna still be getting regular updates, that will be prioritised until it is complete i was just too excited to not put a little something out. love u all as always xxxxxxxx

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

In and out. In and out. Focus on your breathing, focus on it to quell the pit of rage burning deep inside you. That was all you had done for weeks and even at the resolution, when everything was as it should be, still the fire burned on. In and fucking out. Your breaths got deeper, shakier, more frequent again as the weight of her sleeping peacefully by your side consumed you, it had once consumed you with love and it still did, quietly in the background, but it was now overshadowed by the screaming torment of the rage you felt when you looked at her or even felt her presence. It had been like this ever since she got back. Weeks and weeks of refused touches, unanswered questions, shameful glances, you were stuck in this loop because she kept you in the dark. But humans adapt, better than most, so you adapted to the dark, learned to sneak around in it, hunt in it, live in it. You could never leave, neither could she, you were bound cosmically, and you cursed it every day. It was a paradox; how could you love someone so much you felt like your world would burn if they weren’t in it but hate them so much you never wanted to see them again? You couldn’t make sense of it, she’d come to understand your feelings but she was blissfully ignorant to how the swarm of indifference surged through your mind and clamped down on your heart.

You sighed and spared a glance at her sleeping form, the peaceful expression of her face only screaming at you to smother it with the pillow you had laid restlessly on. Weeks and weeks, every morning, you wake up, you stare at her sleeping face and you wish you could just make her sleep forever, it made you want to join her, to sleep and never wake. The anger had become so palpable you actually dreamed of killing her and then yourself just to break free from this never-ending cycle. You tip-toed around each other, you avoiding her like she was the plague because in your mind she was, and her treating you like an unexploded bomb that could go off at the slightest wrong movement. She knew it was her fault, she had made you this way but she had to believe you could both move past it without her shedding light on where she had disappeared off to those months ago. She knew what it would do to you both, leaving for three months without a word, just a quickly written note, no warning, no reassurance, just vanishing. She knew it was stupid to think she could come back without a word as to where she had went and everything would be the same but there was a tiny sliver of hope in her that it could happen. That hope was dashed away when a door was slammed in her face and not opened for her again for two weeks but when it did eventually open, that tiny sliver of hope came flooding back, a flame had ignited in her at the thought that everything would be okay but the flame was slowly dying the more weeks went by without a change in your demeanour. She could feel the hatred, the resentment, the hurt radiating off of you whenever you were near and there was nothing she could do to stop it anymore, you were stubborn, that she knew, but this, this was torture, karma getting its own back at her.

You couldn’t contain it anymore, the energy within you, staring at the wall and focusing on your breathing couldn’t help you now so you threw the covers off of you, rushing out of bed to storm out of the bedroom.

“Babe?” Her quiet, groggy voice sounded out from behind you and your body burned.

“What Abby?”

“Where are you going?”

“I dunno, be back soon.” You echoed the words in her letter and it stung, a physical pain ricocheting through her chest making it hard for her to breathe as she jumped out of bed to follow you.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” You paused and spun to face her, your dark circles were craters under your eyes, your face gaunt and paler than it typically was, your eyes completely vacant, devoid of any emotion.

“I mean I don’t know. Don’t try to find me.” She wasn’t sure if you were doing it on purpose but once again you echoed the contents of her letter as you yanked your boots from the ground, opening the door and slamming it behind you without even a glimpse over your shoulder at her defeated expression. She huffed and dragged her hands down her face as she reluctantly went back to her room, collapsing on the bed. It was times like these she was glad Isaac had moved her to a suite of her own, the thought of Manny witnessing this sending a shiver through her. She knew you could both get through this, she knew, so why was doubt invading her every cell?

You weren’t lying when you said you didn’t know where you were going, you couldn’t go back to your room, it only reminded you of the memories of those three months when she had disappeared and you had locked yourself away, refusing assignments, refusing most food, refusing contact with anyone that wasn’t her. It was too painful to be there, it made being in Abby’s room calming despite her looming presence but this morning it had overwhelmed you, so you kept walking and walking until you ended up at the mess hall. You didn’t remember taking the route there but you had and it was too late to turn back because eyes were on you, familiar eyes, beckoning you over to them.

“Hey stranger! Where you been hiding?” Manny, he had once been a positive presence in your life but he was the antithesis of that now, he had left with her, they had all left with her, leaving you here in the dark and they wanted to play nice now they’re back, you couldn’t. His smile juxtaposed your death glare as you scoffed and looked past him like he wasn’t even there. He could see the anguish in your face, evident in all your features that were nowhere near the radiance you typically emitted, he knew what had happened to you, who had happened to you, his part in it weighing on him heavily. You don’t acknowledge him, you walk straight past him like he’s a ghost, straight past him and all the others waiting expectantly for any sign of forgiveness, straight to the double doors at the other end of the hall, ramming through them like you’re made of steel. “Well fuck.” He mutters as they all watch you storm away out of their sight.

“Are you surprised?” Nora remarks.

“Well no but it’s been almost two months now. She hasn’t cracked one bit.” His eyes never leaving the doors you had exited through.

“She’s seeing Abby, has she said anything about how she’s been?” Mel chimed in with a concerned tone.

“Nada. Fucking nada. It’s radio silence from both of ‘em. I barely even see Abby unless we’re on assignments together because she’s always locked up in her room. I’m worried about ‘em both.” His voice was laced with sadness and there was a tense atmosphere clouding over them as there always was when what they had done was brought up, it was never directly spoken about, it felt like poison to speak it aloud but even a hint of it was enough to make them all shrink into themselves, becoming wrapped in their thoughts.

You trailed the halls of the stadium, circling round and round until your legs ached and your mouth was dry, you had seen people dotted here and there as you walked, smiling politely at any that you mistakenly made eye contact with. You walked past another faceless body as the deafening thoughts drummed around your mind. There was a muffled echo, distant but growing closer until you’re interrupted by a hand enclosing around your wrist, you knew who it belonged to without even having to look causing you to snatch your wrist free from their grasp as you jumped back with a scowl.

“What are you doing? I was worried.” You scoffed at her concerned expression as her eyebrows scrunched. You went to walk away but she was too quick, hands squeezing your hips and pushing you back against the wall you had jumped toward in a bid to escape her first grasp. “Stop fucking walking away from me. When is it gonna end?” You just stared back in disbelief, unmoving in her strong grip, her glassy eyes mocking you, she doesn’t care, her actions had been the opposite of someone who had cared.

“You’re so fucking full of it Abby. You’re worried? Bite me, you don’t worry about anyone other than you.” You spat at her, the shock of your words causing her to loosen her grip around you enough for you to break free and begin storming away from her again.

“I- I just wanna talk. Please.”

“You had your chance to talk. You had so many fucking chances and you wasted them so don’t give me that shit. You wanna feel better about what you did and my forgiveness is the only thing that will do that. Too fucking bad Abby.” You don’t slow as you grit over your shoulder to her but neither does she, following your every movement only a step behind.

“Well if you can’t forgive me why are you still with me? Why do you sleep at mine every night? Why do you still say you love me back when I tell you I love you? What’s the fucking point of it?” You freeze, a choked sob catching in your throat as you look up to the ceiling to beg the tears to just stay in your eyes.

“Because I do love you Abby.” You mutter barely loud enough for her to hear. “How don’t you understand that?” You sound broken, like a shell of yourself.

“Make me understand.” You scoff and chuckle dryly at her as you shake your head.

“I don’t owe you that.” You continue walking again but this time she doesn’t follow, stuck in her place.

“I have patrol! I won’t be back until later.” She calls out to you.

“Thanks for the heads up!” You call back sarcastically. “This time.” You mutter under your breath as you storm further and further from Abby.

You don’t know why you ended up back at Abby’s room, it was so stupid, you couldn’t stand seeing her but her room was the only place that felt safe, you stared at the key that she had once slammed down in front of you as you refused to acknowledge her pleads to just talk, the memory making your blood run cold. It was the first time you had even answered her repeated pounds against your door, two weeks after she had returned, though you opening the door made absolutely no difference because it was like she wasn’t there at all. You had unlatched the door, so it opened a sliver before immediately walking away from it leaving her to hesitantly follow you inside. She watched as you sunk down onto your bed, staring at the wall opposite instead of sparing a glance towards her as she stood over you. She had just stared down at you, pleading with you silently to just look at her but you never did. She slammed the spare key to her room down on your bedside table before sighing and leaving disappointed for what was only the first time to come over the next two weeks. It became a routine, she’d knock, you’d unlock the door and walk away, she’d come in to desperately get you to reason with her but when you showed no signs of a change in your demeanour, she’d give up and leave you alone, letting herself out shamefully. She was just too good at leaving you.

When you had turned up at her door, using the key she had given you, she was stunned, almost so stunned she didn’t see your tear-streaked cheeks and red, glassy eyes but she did notice, she noticed and a lump formed in her throat that she desperately tried to swallow down as she just watched you. Even in her own room you barely acknowledged her only choosing to mutter a small ‘can I stay here tonight?’, the second she vigorously nodded her head you drifted towards her bed, collapsing onto it and immediately burying your face into the pillow to muffle your sobs. She had rubbed your back but when she tried to cuddle into you and wrap you in her embrace you pushed her away hard enough that she didn’t try again. You had gone back to hers everyday since then and the routine hadn’t changed from that point on though you had grown from hurt and beaten down to hostile and the tense atmosphere was painfully tangible. It remained the same as you let yourself into her room, knowing she would eventually come back from patrol later that day and you’d have to face her once again

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Abby felt completely dejected, she was tired and her adrenaline that had powered her through today was fleeting, she was panicking about Owen after seeing Danny’s body and hearing what Nora had told her, everything was backwards and knowing you wouldn’t be there as a comfort to her only made her feel worse as she turned the key to unlock her room. She knew you were here but that made no difference these days, even when you were here you weren’t here and that broke her.

“Hey.” Her voice was meek and cracked as she looked at you, standing in front of her with the same vacant expression you had worn for months, she couldn’t hold it in anymore, the dam broke and hot, salty tears began flowing down her cheeks as her choked sobs filled the quiet of the room.

“What’s wrong?” You had moved closer, your eyebrows knitted together in concern as you spoke softly, juxtaposing your harsh tone she had gotten used to, it only made her cry more which drew you in closer until your hand was on her shoulder and squeezing. “Abby what happened?”

“I- nothing, nothing. We just got ambushed on patrol, I think I’m just tired I don’t know.” You nodded but you were looking at her like you were expecting her to continue, you were coaxing the words out of her and she had no control. “Owen shot Danny and now he’s missing and I just don’t know what to do. Nothing’s the same anymore.”

“No it isn’t.” Your voice wasn’t as soft as it had been, it wasn’t mean but it wasn’t soft, she warily peeked at your face and the sight of it hardened once again caused another choked sob to rack through her body. She stepped towards you and dropped down to her knees as she wrapped her large arms around your waist and squeezed as she pressed her cheek into your stomach.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have left the way I did and if I could take it back I would but I can’t keep doing this, I miss you and I miss us, I need you, everything’s different I need us to be the same. I’m sorry.” Your hand came to her hair, stroking gently.

“Tell me where you went.”

“I- I can’t.” She sobbed more as your hand snatched itself away from her hair before you reached behind you and desperately tried to unclasp her from your waist. “No please, please don’t go. Please I can’t do this without you.”

“I don’t fucking understand Abby, why won’t you just tell me?”

“You won’t be able to look at me the same.”

“I can’t look at you the same now so what difference does it make?” Her eyes meet yours as she looks up at you from her place on the floor and the sight of her lip wobbling as her cheeks were red and tear-streaked almost made your resolve waiver but you couldn’t. You wished you could forget but you couldn’t.

“Please.” She begged but it fell on deaf ears.

“Let me go Abby.” She blew out a breath as her eyes clamped shut and she swallowed a sob, her arms loosened around you letting you break free from her grasp to practically run to the front door and leave. She didn’t watch you go from her position on the floor, she just sat and collapsed into a fit of sobs as her door slammed signalling your departure. You couldn’t keep it together once you had walked out of her room, everything felt like it was coming crashing down as you paced the halls. It wasn’t enough to leave Abby’s room, you still felt suffocated, you needed to get out of the stadium. You headed straight for the secret hole in the fence that only you and Abby knew about to make your escape and the second you emerged into the drizzly outside of Seattle you could feel your lungs filling with air that you desperately needed. You considered going back in but when you turned back, your lungs felt like they were constricting again and you ran in the complete opposite direction until your legs were tired and your lungs burned. You didn’t have a gun, or a knife, you were completely defenceless so when you heard the shrill cries of infected, you immediately looked for an entrance into any one of the buildings that surrounded you.

You spotted a window open just one story up at an old theatre and you sprinted towards it and up the stairs of the fire escape to climb through. Once you were inside, you shut the window softly and began making your way through what you assumed was the backstage area of the theatre, the red, velvet curtains called you towards them and as you stepped through you gasped at the sight of an auburn-haired girl sleeping on one of the chairs. She looked a couple years younger than you, nineteen or twenty you assumed, and despite the sleep her face still looked screwed up and tense. You edged closer to her, careful not to make any noise and when you saw her gun on the seat next to her you grabbed it, pointing it at her while kicking at her shoe. She stirred slightly and then her eyes flashed open revealing bright green eyes staring back at you in disbelief.

“Don’t scream. Who are you?”

tags: @emiliabby @liasxeatt @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @tphmnv

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arjwrites · 5 months ago

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Bless the Broken Road- Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: A glimpse into the broken road that led Dean Winchester to you. Based on Bless the Broken Road by Rascal Flatts. Warnings: Language, minor references to sex, lots and lots of pining and angst A/N: I threw this together pretty quickly and pretty late at night, but the idea had been nagging at me for a while. I hope you enjoy! As always, feedback welcomed <3

"I set out on a narrow way many years ago

Hoping I would find true love along the broken road

But I got lost a time or two

Wiped my brow and kept pushing through

I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you"

When John Winchester went missing, and Dean hit the road to retrieve Sam from Stanford, there was one more person he knew he needed on his side. An old friend, a fellow hunter, a comfort from the life he had been living in Sam’s absence. It was vulnerable of him to do, he knew that, but what were friends for?

Little did he know how quickly Y/N would come running. The sight of his name glowing brightly from her buzzing phone drew her in like a moth to a flame. Wherever Dean Winchester went, wherever he needed her to be, she would happily go. All he had done was ask her to meet up with him, to be there with him when he picked up Sammy, to help them find their father. She knew it wasn’t anything more than that, just a job and a little friendly moral support. Dean had made it clear to her years ago that he couldn’t get attached, that there would never be anything between them. But Y/N was called into action, heart racing at the opportunity to be there for Dean. “Anything you need, Dean, you know that. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

As the trio had found John, encountered Azazel, opened the gate to hell, and everything beyond, Y/N remained at Dean’s side. It seemed like the work just kept coming, and he kept asking her to help out with the next obstacle they faced. Of course, it was her job as a hunter to stick around. Selfishly, though, Y/N was taking every chance to linger in Dean’s presence a little longer. Self-indulgently, she hoped that each time he extended her invitation, a piece of his armor had chipped away, and he was that much closer to letting her in, to letting himself love her back. But time and time again, it was all business and no pleasure. Just hunt after hunt, case after case, and Y/N soldiered on. Anything for you Dean, you know that.

"I think about the years I spent just passin' through

I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you"

A few years and a few apocalypses later, it seemed that Y/N had established herself as a regular part of the team. She, Sam, and Dean had been through too much together- they needed her just as much as she needed them. As much as she needed Dean. She clung tight to every scrap of him she could gather- stolen glances through the Impala’s rear view mirror, hesitant touches while stitching him up after a difficult hunt, and any chance the two could be alone together. Dean was driving an ache into her chest, a pining that she’d never felt before.

She had spent years watching Dean flirt with girl after girl and bring home hook-up after hook-up. She couldn’t help but feel like he was rubbing it in her face- dangling everything she had ever wanted right in front of her eyes. It wasn’t the flirtations or the sex that she craved, but his love, his care, his commitment to her. I would take anything you gave me, Dean. You know that.

“He really does love you,” Sam admitted to her one night, the two sharing a few drinks in a dusty motel.

“No chance. To him I’m a hunting partner, nothing more,” she sighed, silently cursing Sam for giving her any hope. Hope was her problem. Hope was why she had stuck around so long.

“I wouldn’t count on that. He’s in his own head, he’s scared to lose you, but soon enough, you’ll see. He’d do anything for you, you know that.”

"But you just smile and take my hand

You've been there, you understand

It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true"

“You don’t get it, Y/N! I don’t deserve you, and if I let you in, I drag you down with me! I’m not good for you, dammit!” Dean roared, his harsh tone slightly wavering with a nearly undetectable emotion. This fight had been bubbling inside him for several long, torturous years. He couldn’t keep the truth in much longer.

“No, YOU don’t understand, Dean! What you fail to recognize is that I know who you are! I’ve been here at your side to watch as the world has beaten you down, time and time again! And no matter how hard the monsters, the losses, the literal hell hits you, you never fail to land the final punch yourself- you can’t let yourself love, you can’t let yourself be happy!”

Her outburst hung in the air as the world around the pair came to a standstill.

“Dean, I understand if you don’t want me. Say the word and I’ll leave. But you can’t keep me here, you can’t keep torturing me, just because you’re scared to love me. Not when I would drop everything for you, and you know that.” The end of her sentence had come out more severe than intended, but she had truly had enough. She had been hurting herself just as long as Dean had- letting herself be strewn along, her hope dwindling with each passing day.

But Y/N’s words had landed the final blow. In front of her feet fell the mighty Dean Winchester, hard and fast. He dropped to his knees, and just as quickly dropped a lifetime of defenses. Heavy sobs wracked his body as she knelt to meet him.

“I love you. I’m sorry. I love you so, so much. I am so sorry. Let me fix it.” His confession leaked out, barely above a whisper. Dean was ready to love her, to let her in. And it was all she could’ve ever asked for. Everything she had wanted for years, what she had lost sleep over, tortured herself over, she was now holding in the palm of her hand.

And so, she held him. She held him tight and close, in a way that nearly a decade of his resistance had prevented her from doing. Now that he had let her, all she ever wanted to do was wrap her arms around him, whisper to him that it was okay, that she forgave him, that she understood. She loved him so deeply that she could never leave- he was engrained into her soul. “I’m not going anywhere, Dean. I love you. You know that.”

It had been a broken road, but if Dean was ready to let her in, every last mile was more than worth it.

"And now I'm just a-rollin' home

Into my lover's arms

This much I know is true

That God blessed the broken road

That led me straight to you"

#dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural #Spotify

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slushiepizza · 7 months ago

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Lazy Bones

Relationship : Guy & Guy's Dad, Guy & his parents

Tags : Father-Son Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Mental Health Issues, Angst, Hurt-no-Comfort, Executive Dysfunction, Guy is more similar to his dad than he thought much to his dismay, and he has to grit his teeth and move on Toxic Family Dynamic

Word Count : 1,772

ao3 notes: something something he's gonna make it through this year if it kills him /j; both guy and his father are hinted to have mental health issues that i didn't specify for fear of ruining the immersion, but i do have a specific condition in mind when i wrote them this way

Guy knew what sort of day it was as soon as he woke up that afternoon.

His small dorm room was a vacuum, where time moved both like molasses and the speed of light. The dollar-store curtains did little to keep the afternoon sun away from the room. The AC slowly hummed. He could hear laughter outside- probably people coming back from class. His bones were stationary, and the defeated sort of embrace of the blanket welcomed him like a home.

He mentally started counting down from ten and forced himself to move. He slowly made his way to the bathroom in the muted darkness, wincing when he accidentally kicked something plastic and sent it skidding across the floor. He’ll get it later.

Guy found himself in front of the bathroom mirror and recognized what was in his eyes as something pathetic. The look on his face was familiar, and he’d seen that look a million times before.

He hated what he saw.

—

Small hands slowly nudged a weary shoulder that early June. Everything was hazy in the heat of summer. A talk show- no, a sports program, was playing in the background from the CRT screen.

“Dad. Daaad. Play with me,” he whined at the fresh age of five. “I’ll be the fire truck, ‘an you’ll be the train.”

His Dad, a mountain of a man impossible to climb, laid himself against his chair. In that house, everyone shared everything except for that chair in the corner of the living room. That chair was his, and over the years, it’d soon mold itself into the shape of his body and its fabric would be stained with his beer.

“Why don’t ‘cha bother your mom, instead, huh?” he grunted, unmoving.

“She’s at the store,” Guy replied.

“Go outside, or something. Y’know when I grew up, we used to just go to the woods and just. Played with sticks. You young’uns are soft, always need coddlin’ and buggerin’. Can’t even sit still for a second.”

He looked up at his father’s stubbled, rugged face. Marred by the heat of the sun. “I can do that?!”

“Sure, son,” the man looked at him with an almost sad sort of look. His labored arm, wiry and thick from long hours at the auto shop, reached out to muss up his hair. “Your Pa’s… tired.”

Guy was hunting for bugs in the backyard when his mother came back home from the store and yelled at her husband for letting him get dirty. And for sitting there all day, never doing anything useful. And that she wished that she never married someone who’d give up so easily as him.

He remembered that his father was tired a lot.

—

Guy did the least he could do. He brushed his teeth and had a single slice of bread for breakfast. Anything is better than nothing, a dear friend told him. He guessed it was right because, on days when he felt like he wanted to let the mattress mold itself to the shape of his body, the only way he could survive was by keeping the ball rolling. A routine- or some form of it. What he did barely counted as one, but it was better than letting himself fall into the trap of falling back asleep.

He opened the laptop, checked the calendar, and mentally kicked himself.

The deadline was today.

Guy liked to believe that he was a capable, competent person. But as soon as he opened the word document to write the last act of his script- a task that he’d put off from days before- his mind was full of noise.

He craved mind-numbing comfort, so he sought it. He sunk into his chair and scrolled on his phone. In the back of his mind, he felt angry.

Business was rough for the auto shop, and it later closed when Guy was sixteen. His dad never looked for another job- and he soon took his role as a stay-at-home father.

The arguments soon died down, maybe because his parents had already worn each other out by that point. They barely saw each other anyway- his mother’s job at the hospital as a residential nurse kept it that way.

His father was itching for control- and home was the only thing close enough to that.

He was neurotic about where things were supposed to be. The chairs were supposed to be aligned with the floorboards, and Guy has had to sweep the floors multiple times. If a strand of his hair was found- it’d send his father into ballistics.

Hair was another issue.

“Isn’t it time for a haircut?” his dad asked as he vacuumed, without ever meeting Guy in the eyes.

"I like it this way,” he replied.

“Makes you look like a chick.”

—

The videos on his phone flashed colors and various soundbites. It felt incomprehensible to him, and his mind fell into the space between awareness and daydream- a thick fog.

He didn’t feel like catching the deadline. Maybe he should just give up and not do it. He could lie down and not do anything at all.

“This is how I stayed productive even on days when I was exhausted and didn’t have any motivation. The Eisenhower matrix can help you manage your time-” the YouTube video droned and Guy felt himself slip away.

He probably was just lazy. He needed one day to get himself together and he could train himself to have discipline and not rely on motivation, or start time blocking, or start writing bullet journals and get his life together.

—

Guy grew to realize that he hated his father. Hated the way he seemed to always park himself in front of the TV and not shower for days. Disgusting and good-for-nothing. The way he would only get up to go around the house and make sure that everything was in pristine condition. Unused, untouched. Guy hadn’t eaten in his dining room for ages.

His father could’ve tried if he wanted to. He could’ve applied for other jobs, could’ve cared more about him. But he wallowed in the unknown frustrating corners of his mind and let days pass him by.

He could see the weight sagging his mother’s shoulders-the exhaustion in her eyes as she picked him up from school before going to her night shift.

Guy’s biggest fantasy when he was growing up was for his parents to get a divorce. It never came, and in a sick and twisted way, they did need each other to survive. She needed the illusion of a family, and he needed the money.

“Why can’t you do it for me!” he yelled in a particularly heated fight.

“I’m doing this for you! What do you even want?! For this family to be torn apart and to become the talk of the town?”

“I don’t need you to stay together when all you do is yell at each other,” he pleaded.

“You don’t understand,” she said and ended their discussion there.

—

Before he knew it, it was dark outside and he hadn’t written a single word for his script. The deadline was in five hours, and he was sure that he’d be dropped from the project if he didn’t manage to make it.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. A mix of voices rang in his skull: ‘The deadline is in five hours. You’ve done nothing, stupid.’ And ‘maybe you should eat something. You’re hungry, and you’ve only had bread.’ with ‘you should try starting now. You can still fight for this gig. It’s not over yet.’

Guy stood up and approached the pile of laundry on the corner of his bed. He mechanically folded them and arranged them in his drawer of clothes. It gave him the feeling that he had his life together. He hated the fact that he had to do such an ordeal just to do basic tasks. Double the effort for half the result.

Everything felt like a hill he had to climb. Strategies, timers, to-do lists, tricks. It was frustrating, the fact that he was so damaged that he couldn’t straightforwardly do anything.

Tears started to cloud his vision and all he could do was blink them away in anger. Anger at himself for being affected by people who do not care for him in the slightest (A lie, he will soon realize. They did care- but it was the only sort of care that they understood.) He hated that he was a carbon copy of his father despite having tried so desperately to be different.

He studied hard in school, and he worked double, and triple shifts at Max’s to support himself. But he couldn’t escape from what he was. This… sickness, the willingness to give up so easily was passed down from his father like a curse. It was in his blood, written in his bones. At the end of the day, he was still his father’s son.

—

The thing is, his dad did try. Between the narcissist, and the mid-life crisis-ridden man, there were glimpses of what he was underneath it all. What he could’ve been.

He remembered when it stormed all morning before he had to turn in a science project for freshman year in high school. He’d woken up late, and by the time he was at the bus stop, lugging poster board and styrofoam diagrams in a wheelbarrow behind him, it’d left.

His father had run to catch up with him with an umbrella.

“I’ll walk ‘ya to school. Don’t want ‘em to get wet when you’d barely sleep making them.”

It’d been embarrassing. For someone his age to be walked to school by his dad. But all he noticed was the fact that his father had leaned the umbrella completely over him and the wheelbarrow. He was drenched, and he’d never been too fond of the cold.

“I can wear my jacket,” he mumbled. “Just tilt it your way. You’re getting wet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” his dad replied. “The only thing that matters is for you to get to school okay. Get good grades so you don’t become a loser.”

—

Guy wiped his tears and sat himself back down in front of the laptop. He let the all-encompassing, overwhelming mix of anger and sadness run through him. He wasn’t going to fuck it up. He wouldn’t let anything get in the way of the work that he loved doing. He gritted his teeth and did it even when every part of him protested.

Despite his father, despite his restless mind.

Despite it all, he’ll die fighting, bruised.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted guy #redactedverse #slushiewrites #redacted fanfic

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romaevelizz · 5 months ago

Text

Fruits

Aemond Targaryen x blk!cousin!reader

Sum: He wasn’t the same person she remembered how could he do that to her

warnings: death, cursing, child loss, angst, hurt comfort. Not proofread

p.2 of my little love

“You can’t just storm Dragon stone!” Aemond told her watching as his wife readied in her riding clothes. The dark fabrics coving her as her handmaidens tightend her clothes.

The princess had only been abed for two days she was in no condition to go hunt her father. By all means did Aemond himself not want Deamon Targaryen dead, but it couldn’t happen now. even he knew that. But he saw her eyes, the once kind eyes he craved admiration from, they were dark. They were dead, angry. His foot steps heavy as he walked up behind her him shooing the maids, his own hands holding her corset ties. His eye met here through the mirror, “I’m going with.” He spoke.

“I will not have my wife who’s still healing herself go and die because of her lack of mind.”

She only scoffed “Our daughter, our Unborn daughter is dead and all you can think about is me in the wrong state of mind? Right shame on me.” She spoke her words filled with venom.

Turning around she faced him his hands quickly held her shoulders “ Because you are here, you’re all I have left. Apologizes tis you finding selfish of me to not want you to die, they only women I’ll love the only women who’s looks at me like I’m not some endless burden or disappointment. You tis always been you that’s had faith in me.” He spoke his voice becoming shaken.

Her brows frowned under his touch they way he shakes softly. she was filled with rage and now it was staring to spill out on him, her husband. Her mouth opened slightly to say something but she didn’t. Her hand held his face, Aemond melting under her as she did. Her eyes meeting his, a million words could be said with the way they looked upon one another. He was grieving to but she had been blinded by her own, her own rage to even think to comfort him.

His head fell onto her shoulder a quiet sob leaving Aemonds lips as he held her still. “I’m sorry dear wife, I couldn’t protect you or our children, what kind of man..- what kind of Husband does that make of me. I’m so sorry my sweet girl..” The Old Valyrian spilling of his tongue as He weeped quietly into her shoulder.

Her hand trembled has the tangled in his hair holding his close as he consumed her in his arms her soft hushes soothing him gently, “Tis not your fault..”

She pulled his face back her handholding him carefully “But this is something I can only do, they see you or Vhagar you’ll be killed immediately. My father is a week man tis why those men did a job he couldn’t stomach. My father is deemed to have no fears but it’s me, well my mother. And if there’s something he’s always reminded me that I’m just as her.” The Princess spoke holding her husbands face.

He wouldn’t kill her.

He couldn’t kill her.. he was a coward..

Climbing upon cannibal the Large dragon letting out a hyena like giggle, he knew what is to come, he’d be eating today. His menacing giggles caused his whole body to shutter. He could feel her grief her anger. He knew what he was to do. But he’d only do if told perhaps he’d be eating more than once today. Cannibal knew they were going out to kill, for the little princess was now dead, he could feel Y/ns heart break that night the pain she went through, mercy to the pit keepers. The princess let her hand touch his dark scales taking a deep breath “Shall the gods have pitty on them my sweet boy, but not even the gods can save Deamon Targaryen.” She finished patting him letting him know to take off.

His wings thumped like thunder as they enters they skies. Y/ns mind becoming clouded with memories as she closed her eyes, the birth of her child. How her daughter would cling on to Aemond the small child sharing the Targaryen features but her skin dark as hers. How her small giggles echoed through the halls as she played with her cousins, the throaty laughes as Her and Aemond kissed on her. How gentle both their dragons where with the little princess, Cannibal nugging her causing her to fall back only for the lady of dragons herself to grumble at the old man. But none the less did she laugh always a bright bright girl. A girls who light was cut to soon form this world. Her eyes slowly opened, Cannibal glancing back at her his green eyes telling her that this will be done.

She wanted her arrival to be known as by gods it was, Cannibals scream shaking the whole castle.

“The Hell was that?” Jace spoke his eyes wide.

Rhaenyras eyes looked up lazily at her son but quickly shifted to her husband. “She’s here.”

“Who’s here” Baela spoke looking up at her.

“Your sister.” Rhaenys spook smiling as her granddaughter.

Rhaenyra knew what had happen. Only her, her husband didn’t know that he had killed his granddaughter but soon he will. She knew Y/n was here to kill him and she’d had enough to say to try to persuade her not to but never did she think she wouldn’t to stop her. “Let her in with a warm welcome.” Perhaps she’d make an example.

The smile that lingers on Daemon’s face would fall immediately as he went to greet his eldest daughter, her face tierd and dark. And as soon as she pulled that blade. The guards will go to stop her only for Rhaenyra to tell them to stop. “Angle what is the meaning of this.” Deamon said as she held the dagger to his throat.

“Those men you sent.” She said.

Daemon eyes widened, no.

“Men he sent Grandaughter what are you talking about?” Rhaenys spoke trying to pray the life away fro. daemons neck.

“The men he sent to kill my daughter. A son for a son, but there was no son so a daughter shall do they said just as they slit her throat open.” Y/n said her words breaking as she dug the dagger deeper into Deamons throat.

Rhaenys, no everyone went quiet. The silence in the room only the soft cried of the princess could be heard. Soon as scream of a dragon, no just one Caraxes, the poor thing being torn apart by Cannibal shame the loss of a dragon had to be noticed but shame on her to leave something he loved so dearly something so devoted to him alive.

Rhaenyra spoke up quickly “There’s no need to have your beast feed on the dragons!”

“He’ll eat his fill, besides my grandmothers and Sisters dragons any dragon in the pit that challenges him will be devoured if he wishes. Tis rude not to feast and a reunion,no your grace?” The princess said cutting Rhaenyra off.

The quick voices of the boys and guards as they told there other to just kill her. That there is more of them than her. “The Devil has entered your house my queen yet you let her hunt and tarnish is as she’s her she’s unwelcome.” Ser Erryk spoke up.

“What your tongue” Daemon quick to shot the guard down. Even now in this moment he seeks to protect his daughter, the same one that holds a knife to his throat.

A fast hit to the face caused the Prince to fall down. Daemon held his face never lifting it to look her in the eye “be great full they’re my sisters, or I’d take a daughter from you, secretly I hope they killed me just to watch a movie over my body as your wife told you what you did. Because your a coward, who kills babes.” She spoke in a hushed tone the floors of the castle shaking could be fell under their feet cannibals eating he was getting his fill, even through the quiet halls of the DragonStone castle they could hear his giggles the menacing giggles from Cannibal as he feasted on Caraxes.

“I’m sorry my Angel, kill me.” He spoke the undertone of begging could be herd.

No he didn’t get to beg to be killed. She grit her teeth as she clenched her fist, falling to her father she hit him over and over. Just as he taught her putting every punch into her body. “You killed her and yet you beg of me to kill you, as I stood there dagger to my face begging for her daughters life!” She screamed. Now both her hand ps came of her head fist closed as the continued, blood from her father now on her hands. The muffled screams around her being blurred by her own “How dare you!”

“Not only did you take My living child from me but my unborn!” She cried, Daemonds blood now splattering on her face, her cheats heavy. Her body would soon give out on her.

Her chest raising and lowering quickly as she grabbed his collar pulling him up slamming his body back into the stone under him “How fucking dare you,” she cried. she couldn’t hear what her father was saying nothing but plebes of how sorry he was that it want ment to turn out like this. He didn’t fight back, he didn’t want to he hoped he’d kill her. He knew she wasn’t listing to his pleas of forgiveness becaus it was damming of him to think that she ever could.

But oh his sweet girl, his first born how he’s hurt her. he’s never dream of it yet he did how could he. how dare he make her cry like this.

“Your pathetic, truly and pathetic boy.” She hissed her face close to her fathers bloody one. He only muttered unheard to her.

“Speak up you son ova bitch!” She screamed.

“I know my sweet Angel,” he coughed.

She should’ve slit this throat right. But that’s just as he wanted.

“I hope the image of my mother in me hunts you, I hope she haunts you and well as your granddaughter, I hope they both hate you. Gods know mother would.” She whispered her words dark and full of hate.

Daemon only nodded, once more she slammed his head into the stone under him before getting up.

Y/n didn’t look up but she felt her grandmothers hands offering g a comforting touch she didn’t deny “I spared your husband, I trust you’ll do the same only the death of my daughter was no accident as Lucerys death was. For dragons got out of hand and Shame on my husband for letting his anger get the best of him, but your sons continued and continued to push, and dragons we thought of challenged against one another when your sons blew fire into Vhagrs face. Be thank full I don’t take Aegons life as a life of my unborn was takes as well.” She spoke t words Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra holding her son close to her.

Y/n looked up as her their eyes locking “ My the Gods be with you all in this war, My Queen.”

Looking away she kissed her grandmothers face moving past to her sisters, her bloody hand holding there faces and she kissed their foreheads “ I love you, you know how to get to me.” She whispered to the twins.

With that she lefts, and lucky them Cannibal only ate Caraxes. Cannibal looked up his large tail wagging like a dog as she walked in the devilish giggles as he stood up.

“Hmmm did you eat well pretty boy? Yes? Good now we must return to my husband, and your old lady, let’s go.”

“My lady are you all right? You’re covered in blood..” One of the maidens spoke her voice nervous.

She hummed “Ready me a bath, let my husband know I’m home and I seek his presents.” She spoke taking of her gloves her voice stale.

With a quick nod the did just that, soon she’d meet her two guards “Princess. Did you.”

“No, be begged to be killed so I kept him alive to let this hunt him forever, not even in death will he escaped this curse.” She spoke continuing to walk the two men following behind her and she loosened her clothes.

“You plan do undress in the halls m’ lady.” Maliki asks a small chuckle behind his words.

“Have some respect.” Khalil hit him.

The twins bickering always brought a smile to her face. “Stand by let Aemond in when he arrives.” She spoke softly entering her bed chambers.

“Yes princess.”

She looked at herself in the mirror the blood that covered her hands and face was gross, pealing the leather of her riding clothes of was uncomfortable to say the least she was exhausted. Allshe wanted us to touch of her husband, his large gentle hands holding her body close. That’s all she asked for. “ my lady your crying..” a handmaiden spoke gently.

“Ah tis nothing Marcie..” she said, the sound of her doors opening caused her to wipe your tears quickly her body turning towards the door.

“It’s prince Aemond my Princess.”

“Your all dismissed,” Aemonds eyes watched her shoo her ladies away.

He didn’t say anything not with words any how. His gaze offered a gentle look to her ”I didn’t,” Aemonds brows frowned “ahh! no don’t look at me with pitty.” She hissed.

“I didn’t kill him because he asked me to kill him, I’m making him love with this pain…” she said looking at her husband “you should’ve seen how he weeped..”

Aemond nodded “turn.” She did as told.

Aemond was gentle as he took her clothes off “You did good my dear.” He mumbled lips kissing her warm skin. His hands grazing her body.

“Join me” she whispered turning. Her body bare as she presented herself to him. Maybe it was the blood on her body that mad him so… eager to join her. His body swiftly moving behind her as her pulled her against him.

Aemonds lips kissed on her shoulders his hands touching her as they pleased, them holding her breast gently holding them with care as she hummed small moans. One would think he was trying to breed her again, no not he just wanted to cherish his sweet girl, to touch her as she liked. Selfish to think of was for his pleasure, his hands massaged out her aching body. “Let me take care of you.”

His arms wrapped around her tightly pulling her against him he could feel her body shutter against him and she started to cry. He started to cry as well “All is done…”

“We have a war to finish, May tho gods be in our favor dear husband.”

“Well will start again,but non shall be replaced.” She finished.

#hotd aemond #hotd spoilers #hotd s2 #hotd season 2 #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic

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youareunbearable · 1 year ago

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Its late and im tired so please excuse if this doesn't make sense but lately, I've been thinking about Angry Aredhel must have been

Like realistically, when has this woman made a single decision about her future for herself, and in the few times when she did, when did it not end in tragedy

She must have been so angry, so frustrated and wrathful at her lot in life. She was meant for other things, greater thing! She was a disciple of Orome, the Maiden in White, one of the best hunters in his group along with her cousin.

Yet here she is, caged and trapped like a pretty little canary in a wire house. Stolen from her purpose because of her eldest brother's blind loyalty, her father's stubborn pride, her second oldest brother's blinding grief, and her baby brother's terminal bravery. She's across an ocean, escaped one cage for another by her tormentor and abuser posing as a husband.

The bastard won't even name their child.

She must have be so angry, stuck in that endless darkness, the forest must be such a familiar landscape but so different, twisted and wrong like looking into a warped mirror.

Shes grieving outside her "home" one night, having managed to convince the trees to part their branches just enough that she can glimpse a star or two so she can bask in the starlight. Its been a year since the birth of her son, and nothing has changed. Eol won't look at the boy, and she can feel herself drifting. Without the ability to see the passage of time, without the Light of the Trees or with the Sun and Moon chasing each other across the sky, things are blending together and she feels adrift.

At least when they crossed they ice, they were able to watch the stars move across the endless dark.

The starlight warms her skin, as weak and distant as it is, so she basks. With her eyes closed and face tilted up she feels like a lizard in the mid day sun. Behind her, she hears a noise, a twig being deliberately stepped upon. Aredhel whips around, raising her glowing lichen lamp, wondering if its her husband or one of his servants come to take her back. She feels a little feral at the idea of being dragged away from the pitiful starlight.

A wolf, with a pelt as crisp and clean as the snow dusting Himring's mountain top, slinks into the soft glow. Its fur takes on an almost sickly colour in the green luminescence. The wolf settles at the edge of the light, resting on its haunches as it observes her.

Aredhel thinks she's beautiful, for it is a female wolf. Even in the weak lamplight the beast's silver eyes seem to glow on their own, piercing her very fea and enticing her to come forward, to come closer. There is a power within the she wolf, one Aredhel craves.

The white beast introduces herself as a member of Orome's hunt, and Aredhel believes it, for the she wolf looks like the perfect hunter. The wolf asks her what she, as a fellow hunter, is doing out so far away from her kin and cub.

Momentarily surprised by the ability to speak, for not even Huan can speak so freely, Aredhel responses. She shares her desire for light, her frustration with her "husband," and how she wants a different life for her son. She never wanted this, and she wishes she had the ability to take control of her own fate.

The wolf is sympathetic to her plights, and offers to help her free herself and her child.

"You do have the ability to change your own fate, young one. Asking for help is something no one else could have done for you."

So Aredhel leads the wolf back to Eol's house. They walk through the entry way, both hunters are silent as the dawn as they go. Aredhel heads towards the master bedroom, but hesitates at the door. She can see Eol on his side of their bed, snoring lightly as he does. She hesitates, seeing a vision of what will happen once he realizes she's gone. Fire, doom and death follows her, poison and a flash of fang would flicker in him before he strikes her down for disobedience, for stealing away the son he won't even name.

The wolf nudges her aside, ghosting past her into the room. Aredhel's throat closes up and she slinks away, heading towards Lomion's nursery. She leaves to go strap her sleeping infant son to her chest, then grabs some supplies from the kitchen in a bag. Not even hearing a mouse skittering in the walls, let alone her wolf companion, she steels her nerves to check the master bedroom one more time.

As she passes her bedroom, she can see through a crack in the door and her breath freezes. Standing over the now corpse of her husband, maw dripping red from the freshly torn out throat, the white wolf looms. Aredhel stares transfixed, she can almost taste the blood between her own teeth, feel the rush of the kill, ache of her gums as tendons and tissue would rub against them. The wolf turns to look at her, silver eyes wild, white fur stained with her kill. Aredhel feels the air return to her lungs, she feels lighter and free, a little giggle slips past her lips and the wolf peels back its lips and bares its dripping fangs in a smile.

Aredhel leaves the house, fleeing on foot and all the while she can hear the wolf following her, keeping pace and shadowing her in the darkness, and at some points, ahead of her, leading her out of the woods. Running like this, oh she hasn't done this in years!. The wind snapping at her hair, branches and leaves kissing her cheeks and arms, the rush of a completed hunt with another one ahead of her feels like her first real breath in a long time. It feels like days later, and seconds, heartbeats, when she can see the treeline, dawn's hazy reddish glow peaking through the trees.

Aredhel gives a joyful cry and runs faster. That laughter bubbling up inside of her finally bursts past her lips once she breaks the treeline. The sun on her skin is warm and bright and all she wants to do is laugh and cry and scream until her throat is raw and her tears run dry. But she has to keep moving, she has Lomion still with her, and she is too close to the woods to feel truly safe yet. She walks north, and east, not really knowing where she's heading but knowing that she'll cross into her cousins' land soon. As she walks, she soon realizes that she hasn't seen or heard from her she wolf in a while. Stopping, Aredhel turns to look back, but no where can she see that brilliant white coat, or any tracks that look like wolf paws. She squint, looking back at the distant treeline and sees nothing but shadow. She mourns for her companion, wishing she could have wished her well or at least thanked her for her help. She wonders if Orome set the wolf to free her, not wanting to see one of his hunters in chains.

Its about mid morning when she comes across some of her cousins men, and they're horrified. They ask if she's ok, of she's hurt, they take her to a nearby stream even though she insists she's fine, that she wants to see her cousins.

When she sees her reflection she's scared for a moment. All she can see it blood, dried and crusted down her throat, staining her lips and chin. There is red all along the collar of her white dress, her sleeves, but her hands are clean, and so is her son still asleep strapped across her chest. She looks into her reflection, not yet comprehending. Silver eyes that seem so familiar stare back above the red, above the proof of her freedom.

She bares her bloody teeth in smile.

#Aredhel #silm #silmarillion #Maeglin #i think it would hot if Aredhel pulled a finrod and ripped out eols throat #with her bare teeth like Yes Please Queen Slay lmao #Celegorm is so proud when he finds out like Lmao Still Got It Cuz!!!!! and a bonus new free nephew!!!!#Curufin is disgusted he is related to these ppl but also is supportive of Aredhel going ape shit like she deserves #she chipped some of her teeth on thr bite so like the loving cousin he is curufin makes her mithril fangs #maedhros screams into his hands when he finds out but is also proud. so is fingon! thats his Baby Sister!!!#Lomion grows up Normal and Loved and Nolo adores him and is glad to have a sensible heir for when #fingon inevitability leaves them to marry Maedhros. whenever they get around to it.

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bitchiswild · 11 months ago

Text

Gifts

Jang Wonyoung x F! Reader

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

A/n: 🎁🎀

｡ﾟ•┈୨★୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Those words, whispered by Jang Wonyoung, had become a familiar refrain throughout our three years together. Her voice, a soft echo in the recesses of my mind, reassured me that within the realm of her affluence, my desires were boundless. 'I'll buy you anything your heart desires, honey,' she’d say, her eyes alive with a promise that seemed to defy the constraints of reality. It wasn’t just about material possessions; it was the unwavering devotion wrapped within those words. Her affectionate offer echoed a sentiment deeper than the glossy sheen of credit cards and luxury stores. It was her way of saying, 'Let me wrap you in comfort and joy, let me spoil you with the limitless bounds of our love.' Over time, these words had woven themselves into the fabric of our relationship, a comforting melody that resonated with both the extravagance of her wealth and the tenderness of her heart.

At first, Jang Wonyoung's tendency to spoil me felt unsettling. I feared the gifts would overshadow the essence of what truly mattered between us. I craved her presence, not the opulence her wealth could afford. Yet, she sensed my discomfort, her perceptive gaze recognizing my unease. It was in that vulnerability that our connection deepened, her understanding of my heart forging an unbreakable bond between us.

Christmas, particularly the last two years, transformed into a spectacle of opulence. Each meticulously chosen gift she bestowed upon me left me speechless, caught in a whirlwind of gratitude and awe. But in the midst of this lavish exchange, I found myself grappling with a challenge – finding the perfect gift for Wonyoung. Her declaration that she lacked desires, owning the means to acquire whatever she pleased, made the hunt for a meaningful gift an uphill task. How do you find a present for someone who seemingly possesses everything?

In the quiet intimacy of our late-night rendezvous, Jang Wonyoung's whispered confessions floated through the air like delicate notes of a secret symphony. 'I want to marry you, I want to start a family with you,' her tender words, uttered in hushed tones, wove a tapestry of dreams in the silence of our shared moments. She believed I slumbered, unaware of her heartfelt declarations, yet each syllable nestled within my consciousness, igniting an effervescent symphony in my chest. Her whispered desires, spoken in the tender cloak of the night, painted a vivid picture of our shared future, each word a brushstroke adding hues of hope and longing to the canvas of our love.

The clandestine beauty of her aspirations stirred a whirlwind of emotions within me. Joy danced alongside uncertainty, the weight of her earnest desires embracing my heart like a comforting embrace. To know that she harbored such aspirations, to envision a life entwined with hers in both the quiet whispers of night and the vivid light of day, sent my heart on a galloping journey, chasing the thrill of a future painted in the colors of our intertwined destinies.

As the countdown to Christmas commenced, a tradition unique to our relationship unfurled—Wonyoung’s extraordinary '12 Days of Giving.' Each morning, a new surprise awaited me, meticulously curated treasures that reflected her keen attention to my desires. She had an uncanny ability to discern my preferences, the items I had merely glanced at or wistfully admired, and transformed them into tangible tokens of her affection.

With a discerning eye for detail, Wonyoung orchestrated her grand gestures through her adept assistant, swiftly turning my fleeting interests into lavish presents. The procession of gifts was nothing short of a spectacle: designer bags that had once lingered in the corners of my imagination, a gleaming car that mirrored my dream ride, exquisite jewelry that sparkled with her insight into my tastes, and then, a surreal climax—keys to a new house, a testament to her boundless generosity.

Each day brought forth a new manifestation of her devotion. The opulence wasn’t simply a display of her wealth; it was an artful expression of her understanding of my desires. From luxurious clothes that hugged my form to tickets granting passage to the azure beauty of Greece, the 12 days unfolded as a symphony of thoughtfulness and opulence, an extravaganza that dazzled not only with its grandeur but with the depth of affection woven into every carefully chosen gift.

As the sun rose on Christmas morning, the air was thick with anticipation and warmth. 'Open it, honey,' Wonyoung’s voice, soft and tender, carried a symphony of love as I cradled a small box in my hands, its contents an enigmatic delight. With trembling fingers, I untied the ribbon, and in a burst of joy, a lively puppy sprang out, his tail wagging in gleeful abandon. 'You didn’t, Wonyoung!' I gasped, my heart brimming with surprise and overwhelming delight. Her laughter, a melody that painted the room, filled the spaces between us. 'You’ve wanted one for a while, and I thought it was time to begin our little family,' she explained, her eyes sparkling with a tenderness that wrapped around my heart like a warm embrace.

'What should we name him?' she asked, and in that moment, amidst the excitement, a name echoed in my mind. '(You pick a name),' I suggested. '(Name),' Wonyoung echoed softly, her smile reflecting the shared joy in our newfound companion. As the puppy nestled between us, a ribbon caught Wonyoung’s eye, and to our astonishment, a glimmering diamond ring dangled from it. My breath hitched, my heart raced, and before I could fathom what was happening, Wonyoung knelt down, her eyes shimmering with emotions that mirrored my own.

Slipping the ring from the puppy’s collar, she held it out to me. Tears welled in my eyes, a rush of emotions cascading through my soul. 'Y/n, my love, you mean everything to me. You're my sunshine on the darkest days, and I want to spend every moment with you, creating a future filled with love and laughter. Will you marry me?' Her voice quivered with the weight of her emotions. 'Yes,' I whispered, my voice trembling as I extended my hand to her. Pulling me into her embrace, she tenderly placed the ring on my finger, sealing our love with a promise that echoed through our souls. Our lips met in a soft, tender kiss, a celebration of the moment that would forever mark this Christmas morning as the most cherished in our journey together.

As the warmth of our kiss lingered, I eased away, a soft smile gracing my lips. "I have a present for you too," I whispered, my voice quivering with excitement. Wonyoung's eyes shimmered with curiosity and affection. "But why, love? I have everything right here," she replied, her arms embracing me and our playful puppy. "This gift will make us even stronger, complete our story," I assured her, my gaze locked tenderly with hers, brimming with emotion.

"Alright, show me," she said eagerly, her excitement contagious. Handing her the small, delicately wrapped box, I felt a rush of anticipation tinged with nerves. My knees shook slightly, and Wonyoung, sensing my unease, reached out, her touch a soothing balm to my anxiousness. "Whatever it is, it's perfect because it's from you," she reassured me, her eyes radiating trust and boundless love.

The moment stretched, pregnant with anticipation, as Wonyoung carefully undid the ribbon and lifted the lid of the box. Her gasp echoed in the room, her eyes widening in disbelief. The box slipped from her trembling hands, clattering softly to the floor. Tears welled in my eyes, mirroring the emotion that glistened in hers. "We're going to be parents?" she breathed, her voice quivering with a mix of surprise and overwhelming joy. "Yes, my love, we are," I managed to say, my heart swelling with happiness.

Wonyoung enveloped me in a fierce embrace, her tears mingling with mine, dampening my shirt. "I was right, this is the most precious gift, especially because it’s from you. It’s perfect in every way," she whispered, her touch on my face an expression of pure love and gratitude. "Merry Christmas, Wony," I murmured softly. "Merry Christmas indeed," she replied, pulling me into another tender kiss, sealing the moment with a promise of an extraordinary future filled with boundless love and the joy of a growing family.

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