#RED CHEEKS RED CHEEKS RED CHEEKS RED CH *get shot*

[mrpenguinpants]

Sakura, did they...set off your romance sensor?

—  "Oh, listen, this boy here…whenever he senses anything romantic…he goes beet red in the face!!" - Tasuku Tsubakino (Ch.66)

— Hayato Suo, Hajime Umemiya, Jo Togame

[Masterlist]

Wow, my windbreaker brain rot has shot me into a whole new timeline where I can sit down and write. Not gonna lie, not my favorite but it is what it is. I've beat my first fic for a fandom nerves.

Hajime Umemiya

When Umemiya had called a rooftop meeting, Sakura had been through them enough to know what to expect. Umemiya would either show up late or be completely off-topic until someone, mostly Hiragi, stepped in to direct the meeting to its actual purpose. Most of the time, the distractions would be on his plants or his giddy plans of having another barbeque with everyone. It used to be annoying, Sakura once believed the reason why Umemiya was so unserious was because he didn't care. But he knows better now than to take that carefree smile on the surface level. Deep down, Umemiya is a great leader who knows when it's time to get serious.

But this...

Sakura's cheeks are already turning pink.

This is a bit too much for him. He hasn't leveled up enough for this.

"The Three Sisters is a method of gardening that involves planting corn, beans, and squash together. The corn provides support for the beans and squash, the beans add nitrogen to the soil, and the squash's sprawling vines create shade and discourage pests too. It's really quite fascinating, don't you think so Ume?" you ask, lightly petting the leaves of his most recent tomato plant sprout. Your eyes downcasted as you thumb away bits of dirt that happened to be blown by the wind onto the greenery. Perhaps it's because you're one of the few people who entertain Umemiya's rapid obsession with his garden, even going out of your way to tell him facts to better his plot and compliment him on his efforts. Heck, Sakura has seen Umemiya crying because Nirei has told him that his saplings look bigger each time. While Sakura does not doubt that those feelings and expressions were genuine, the look Umemiya is giving you, a look you're not even seeing, feels different. Umemiya himself is different.

"Yeah..." Umemiya responds in a soft tone, his voice almost a whisper. Their usually talkative leader who won't shut up for half a second, who talks over people, is currently so distracted that it's kind of embarrassing watching him. He's been staring at you, eyes zeroing in on your fingers as they brush against the leaves, almost entranced by the sight. Sakura would give anything to leave right now, this second-hand embarrassment is too much. Luckily, Umemiya finally seems to register that you and he aren't alone despite the fact he was the one who called the meeting in the first place. His head perks up confused, hands on top of his knees, as he's greeted with varying expressions from his grade captains. Hiragi in particular looks like he's having both a stomach ache and the urge to slap the back of Umemiya's head. The urge is only partially restrained when you also look up, sending them all a little wave. Hiragi isn't going to slug Umemiya if you're there to see it, it's the pride of a man to not get beaten up in front of his crush.

"Oh shoot, you're all here already? Why didn't you say anything?" Umemiya whines, standing up while dusting his pants free of any lingering dirt. He extends a hand to you, not before rubbing his palm furiously on the back of his shirt, to help you up, "I'll see you later?"

"Mm, sure. Good luck with your new sprouts. Remember to remove the bottom leaves once the plants are over 3 feet tall. I'll be upset if they develop fungus issues," you pat Umemiya's cheek gently, ignoring the way that Umemiya completely melts openly at the gesture. You turn to nod at the rest of them, offering another wave goodbye, as you pass them to exit the rooftop. The resounding sound of the door closing finally sets them back on track.

"We did," Hiragi speaks up as soon the vibrations in the air fizzle out with an exasperated expression, referring back to Umemiya's first question, "You were too busy staring. We've been here for almost ten minutes, you idiot."

"Sorry, sorry, my bad," Umemiya laughs easily, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Although he's been clearly called out, Umemiya doesn't seem the slightest bit ruffled. Sure, he looks a little bashful but Sakura doubts that he'll tone it back much to the embarrassment of any onlooker. Maybe one day, he'll be able to look that happy with his own feelings on display.

A sudden clap has Sakura jolting back to reality, Umemiya's loud voice returning back to something familiar, "Now then, come sit! I prepared some snacks for us all to share."

Everyone else seems used to Umemiya's behavior and they easily follow him, completely disregarding your and Umemiya's interactions as if they never happened. Sakura doesn't really get it but if everyone else is unbothered, it'd be seriously uncool if he said anything. He lets out a sigh, whatever. It's none of his business anyway.

"Sakura, why are you blushing?" Nirei, the bastard, pipes up behind him. Suo, the even worst bastard, laughs behind his hand like he's some rich Victorian lady.

"Huh, no I- I'm not." Sakura's cheeks went from pink to red, now that he's been caught. He looks away, avoiding eye contact, "S-Shut the hell up!"

Hayato Suo

"Mr. Customer, if you're dissatisfied with our menu, you're more than welcome to leave."

Sakura blinks, head jerking up as he crosses the threshold of Café Pothos. Initially, he assumed those words were directed at him even though it wouldn't make sense. He quite likes the menu despite only ordering the same thing each time. But no, when Sakura looks up it's to a rather unexpected sight. Suo sits at the bar counter, back ram-rod straight and his hands folded in his lap, with that ever-pleasant smile on his lips. Across from him stands a worker Sakura has never seen before. He always assumed that Kotoha was the only employee, but today seems to be full of surprises. A green apron with white ties, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and hands fisted against the hips.

"The bakery across the street would love to hear your complaints, Mr. Customer."

---

There is something about the new worker and Suo that keeps Sakura glancing back at them after he's sat himself in a secluded corner. Perhaps it's because it's a new face he has yet to meet at a place he frequents so often. It's normal to be curious right? Or maybe it's Suo being here alone. He's never seen the man "out in the wild" before. They aren't even looking at him, Suo hadn't even looked up when he first opened the door although Sakura is sure that Suo is aware of him. He's creepy like that. The new worker, however, whips an annoyed glance at Suo before letting out an irritated huff, arms crossing over the green apron, and glaring down at Suo’s smiling face. A face that would remain ever-pleasant in any given situation.

Regardless...

"Is this your version of service? It must be hard on the customer," Suo chuckles, a slight tilt of his head that bounces his tassel earring. Suo's laugh, however, causes Sakura to feel a hint of surprise. It's not a laugh he expects the man to give, yet at the same time, it suits him.

"That's because you're a terrible customer and a pain in the ass." The worker sneers, leaning in so the two of them are face to face.

Suo seems to be difficult for anyone to handle.

"It's busy today," Kotoha says, appearing out of thin air and scaring Sakura half to death. A plate of steaming omurice slides in front of him because he really does only order one thing here. It's not a great conversation starter, but it's nice of her to break the odd tension that has settled over the cafe. Kotoha is also looking to the side, watching the scene of her co-worker and Suo bickering and arguing. Passive aggressive comments are being flown out, scathing remarks padded with polite voices, so much so that the two of you don't seem to register anyone else around. Completely wrapped up in your world of irritation versus amusement.

"What…are they even arguing about?" Sakura chances to ask, his eyes still glued to the curve of Suo's smile, red eye focused solely on you. His hand idly reaches for his spoon, scooping up a bit of rice and egg, yet it hovers in the air ideally. Suo has his head tilted and is leaning somewhat in the worker's space. His eyes don't stray, watching each shift in facial expression carefully to gauge whether his words are having their intended effect. He looks like he's having way too much fun.

"Oh, that." Kotoha giggles, placing her palm on the table. She too looks like she's having way too much fun, "They always go back and forth like that. It's like a game of cat and mouse with those two. They're both stubborn as hell so it's a constant power struggle between them. Although, I wonder what they're arguing about this time. They always bicker at each other when we change shifts."

Kotoha shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. She glances briefly at Sakura before her eyes drift back to the other two. She raises her hand, finally cutting the bubble between you and Suo.

"Hey, I'm back from break. Thanks for covering for me," she calls, waving her hand in the air. The frown that was permanently on your face melts away when you break eye contact with Suo, returning to a more neutral blank look. You only nod to Kotoha, flashing up a thumbs-up, and you move to head back to the kitchen. But not before sticking your tongue out at Suo over your shoulder as you disappear through the doorway. Sakura blinked surprised, he had somewhat expected a different reaction than something so...tame. His eyes drift to Suo and he can feel his cheeks heat up.

He doesn't think he's seen Suo look happier.

Jo Togame

"See, you peel off the seal on the cap. Remove the ring from the little plastic piece you use to push the marble. Then, with your thumb, press down, and poof, the marble drops and you can enjoy!" you grin as you move slowly for Sakura to see your hands with each instruction. The fizz of carbonation and the clink of the marble hitting the glass amplified louder in the abandoned auditorium. A few other shishitoren members are loitering, but only you and Sakura are sitting up on the edge of the stage. After the embarrassment of not knowing how to open the ramune Togame had given him, he sought you out to explain it to him. Sakura didn't think he could stomach it if he went back to Togame again for help. He follows your movement, his fingers removing the thin seal. Popping the ring off the marble pusher, and with his thumb, pushes on the marble. His thumb slips a few times, but you're patient as you coax him to try again. With his third attempt, he feels the marble give, the rewarding sound of bubbles popping.

"Thanks..." Sakura mumbles, a faint blush on his cheeks as you cheer your ramune's together as you take a swig.

"No problem," you say nonchalantly, leaning your weight back on your arms. With the bottle held in your hand, you watch Sakura, who is intently staring at the drink on his own. The silence between you isn't exactly uncomfortable, but you can sense the slight embarrassment oozing off him. "Soooo... how's it taste?"

He gives a soft hum before taking a small sip, the fizzy liquid leaving a tingling sensation on his tongue. It's not as sweet as he thought it’d be. It's rather subtle for a soda. He takes a longer sip this time, the fizz tickling his nose and bubbles popping against his lip. Looking at you sidelong, he can see you already staring at him excitedly. You weren't kidding when you said you were a big fan of this.

"It's sweet, I guess," his voice soft as he shrugs. A few strands of his white hair fell in front of his face. His eyes glance up at you as you stare at him intently, waiting for him to continue. He awkwardly bites the inside of his cheek. It still feels weird having people who actually want to hear his opinion, even if it's as small as a drink. "A bit strange… The flavor is nice, but the fizz is new."

He takes another sip, careful with the angle he tilts the bottle lest the marble block the opening. He doesn't really understand the appeal of the marble. It's a nuisance. The fizz was the best part of the soda, but the clinking made it impossible to drink it quietly. Besides, he holds the ramune bottle out, how the hell do you even get it out? Does he need to throw it against a wall to break the bottle? He doesn't want to get broken glass everywhere since someone could accidentally step on it.

"Is the marble irritating you?" you ask, laughing quietly under your breath to not set Sakura off into another tomato-faced explosion.

"No!" he answers with a quick hiss, cheeks flushing. He can feel you stare at him as a smirk dances across your lips. He can already envision the teasing you’re concocting to make him react. He gives another soft huff, refusing to look at you, as he fidgets with the bottle. He doesn't want to ask you to help again. He already feels like a helpless idiot. Instead of commenting, you swing yourself upwards, planting your hand on your knee. The other hand, wrapped around the bottle, moves to your lips as you down the rest of your drink. The fizz of bubbles pops in the air while Sakura looks at you bewildered. Weren't you supposed to drink carbonated drinks slowly or you'll stomach hurt? Did you become immune or something from drinking so many?

"Come on, let's go. I still haven't finished my ramune 101 class," you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, winking over your shoulder which sends Sakura into another pink mess, as you slide off the stage.

"W- What do you mean we’re not done?" he stammers quickly, flustered as he scrambles up to follow you. He feels a bit dizzy from going from a sitting position to standing too quickly. He grips the bottle in his hand and takes a few quick steps to catch up to you as you stride to the doors leading outside the auditorium. You laugh again when he rushes to catch up. His quick reaction time betrays his small stature. It's kinda cute.

"It means I'm gonna teach you how to get the damn marble out, genius" you tease, shoving his shoulder as you reach the doors. Opening them, the two of you were met with the cool outside air. It's refreshing after being indoors for so long and the auditorium has gotten you both hot and stuffy. Hence the initial ramune drinks. You quickly take his hand, ignoring the screams, as you drag Sakura to the side of the building. "Togame! Are you sleeping still?"

"Huh?" a tired voice answers groggily from the other side of the wall. Togame is sitting on the ground next to the wall with his back against the auditorium. He has his legs stretched out, his head leaning back on the wall, rubbing his eyes to clear the ever-constant droop in his eyes. He looks as if he is napping before being rudely interrupted, "I was..."

"Oops. Hehe, sorry," you chuckle, hands raised up in a mock surrender although you don't particularly look apologetic. To be fair, Togame doesn't look upset either. Only gives you and Sakura a sleepy smile and nods as he raises his arm high to stretch. His green eyes drifted to the bottles of ramune in your hands with a curious tilt of the chin. In response, you beam at him, rattling the marble inside the glass bottle before handing it to him. "Please, if you could."

Togame snorts as he takes the bottle. There's a hint of playfulness in his tired eyes as he shakes the bottle a few times, letting the marble inside thump against the glass. It's funny watching the marble rattle around. It reminds him of a little toy marble maze he had as a child. He flicks his gaze to look at Sakura, who stands off to the side stiffly. The poor kid looks ready to bolt at any second when given an opening. His own half-finished bottle lays limply in his hand, the marble reflecting off the sun's light.

"You know you just have to twist the cap in the opposite direction right?" he says, wrapping his fingers around the blue lid and twisting the cap off. Turning the bottle over, he catches the marble from the opening into the palm of his hand. He extends his hand, sliding the marble into your waiting ones. "I know you're strong enough to do that."

"Yeah, but my hands get cramps and it's impossible to move it!"

"I don't think that's how that works...But if it really is too hard, you can keep coming to me."

Sakura stands by, feeling out of place as you go back and forth with Togame. Yet, he doesn't feel like an intruder this time, merely an observer. He looks down at his own bottle, hands moving to twist the cap off while making sure he doesn't spill the drink.

It's easy. It pops right off with barely any effort. Sakura has quite literally seen you throw a man double your size over your shoulder.

The marble reflects his face messily, but there's a shine of red glinting off the surface.

[m4ttslvr]

˳ ៚ Never Enough

sub!chris x fem!reader

one shot: where Chris fucked you senseless last night yet he can’t get enough, so when you wake up to him touching himself in the morning, you decide to help him out

warnings: riding, marking, spanking, hair pulling, wrist restriction, pet names

Chris pov

She laid there sleeping peacefully with her back towards me while my cock was painfully hard, tenting the sheets.

I couldn’t help it— knowing y/n was laying naked inches away from me, in my own bed. It was driving me crazy.

We had just fucked all night last night and that was the best pussy I’ve ever had. Her taste, her wetness, her tightness, her sweet sweet noises— my dick twitched.

I looked over at her while I reached down to touch myself, biting my lip to keep quiet. My movement made the sheets fall off her frame, exposing her delicate curves for me to admire.

I’m fighting for my life to keep my eyes from rolling back since I couldn’t help but stroke myself incredibly fast at the sight of her.

I had completely exhausted her last night having overstimulated her ntil she couldn’t take it anymore, so I felt bad waking her only a few hours into the night. But her bare ass was right there and I couldn’t help but moan remembering how that ass was up in the air for me to pound at last night.

My noises made her shift but I couldn’t stop touching myself now, with the memory of her on all fours arching her back to take my entire cock replaying in my head. My movements were shaking the bed and I was panting hard through my nose.

She turned around, squinting her eyes at me, trying to adjust her vision in the dim morning light of the room. “Ch–Chris?” her voice was low and croaky— it was so fucking sexy it made my dick twitch in my hand.

Her eyes widened at the sight of what I was doing. I was no longer trying to be quiet so there was no mistaking what I was doing.

Y/n’s pov

You woke up to the bed shaking underneath you. You barely had the strength to turn around, your body spent from last night. You called out for Chris while your vision adjusted and your foggy brain finally processed that Chris was moaning and panting right next to you.

Your eyes widened, now fully awake, when you saw his hand moving fast under the sheets. Your heart instantly started racing at the sight of Chris touching himself, his toned stomach clenched and sweaty. His hair messy and his cheeks tinted pink. He was moaning and whimpering loudly now that you were awake, the noises he was making causing you to stutter.

“Ch-Chris” you repeated, just to say something.

His strokes sped up and his head fell back against the pillow in pleasure, “mmm— keep saying my name like that baby, please”

His voice was high and needy, it made your head dizzy and your pussy wet. You fully turn towards him and you can see his eyes dart down to your tits. You lick your lips before repeating his name again.

“Fuck yes, so sexy baby— fuck” his voice kept getting louder, you could tell he was getting close to his orgasm. The movement of his fist on his dick made the sheets fall off of him, exposing his red veiny cock. That cock you absolutely loved and went absolutely feral for.

You instantly started salivating at the sight, your hips involuntarily grinding against the sheets that were now soaked underneath you.

You reach for his free hand that had been gripping the sheets and bring it over to your breast, your hard nipples craving contact. Chris wasted no time gripping hard, making you wince. His other hand maintained a fast pace on his cock that was now leaking with precum.

“Oh Chris, you’re just never satisfied are you? Always needing more— that filthy cock of yours always getting hard around me, huh?” you started, getting on your knees to straddle him. The contact of your warm thighs on his cold ones causing you both to hiss.

“Isn’t that right Chris?” you asked innocently, making sure to repeat his name, knowing he loved the way you said it. And it was evident by the way his gripped himself harder, his knuckles white and his face scrunched in pleasure.

“Can’t help it baby” he panted, struggling to maintain his dark blue eyes on yours. “Need it all the time” his voice was shaky and weak. “Need you all the time”

“Then have me Chris” you said, snatching his hand from his cock and placing it on your other breast, the precum on it rubbing against your nipple making your head fall back. His mouth opened with excitement and he licked his bottom lip, while nodding like a hungry dog.

“Yes please, yes” he begged under you, his voice whiny. It made you smile, loving how unafraid he always was of being vocal about what how much he wanted you. “Need that perfect pussy of yours around my cock so bad”

You were blushing while you aligned his cock with your entrance and slammed down, bouncing on him at the same pace he had been pumping himself, determined to fuck him senseless.

You both moaned out a string of curses as you felt his cock hit deep inside of you, your walls instantly clenching around his thickness. It was euphoric, the bit of pain of him stretching you combined with the incredible pleasure of it.

Your juices were spilling out of you with each bounce, coating his cock and balls in them. Each time you slammed down the slapping noises were loud and wet. His hold on your tits tightened and his head thrown back and his mouth open in pleasure. The sight of him coming undone underneath you encouraged you to maintain this fast pace and you ignored the ache in your thighs.

Chris had just fucked your brains out only a few hours ago yet the pleasure of his cock filling you up like nobody else has was too good and too addictive. You wanted it all the time too.

Your muscles were sore, your skin already peppered in hickeys and bruises, there was dry cum on your belly, and your lips were swollen, Chris having abused your body all the way last night. Still, you didn’t care— you both simply couldn’t get enough of each other.

“‘m not gonna last babe” Chris whined underneath you. “fucking me so good”

“It’s ok Chris, cum in me whenever” you panted, your thighs burning. “This pussy’s all yours” you clenched around him swiveling your hips in small circles and wrapped your hands around his neck, just the way he likes it.

His eyes rolled back into his head and you couldn’t help but throw your own head back. The feeling of his cock filling you up and the swivel of your hips causing your clit to rub against his groin was all too pleasurable.

He slapped your ass, causing you to jump and snap out of the trance you were in. His eyes were on yours, begging for you to bounce on him. You regained your pace, holding on to his chest for balance.

Chris gripped your hips hard as he thrust up into your pussy, chasing his high. You moan loudly at the sensation and fall forward onto him, gripping the sheets on either side of his head.

His hands snaked up to your back, sliding up your curves. He wrapped one arm around your waist to keep you in place, while his other hand gripped your hair, tugging at it. “tired princess?”

You were now the one that couldn’t for coherent sentences— hell you could barely form coherent thoughts. You just whined hoping it was a good enough reply for him.

His thrusts were hard and fast, each time the leaking tip of his cock hitting the sensitive spot inside you just right. Your body heat from both of radiating hot waves, making the room steam.

Your arms were shaking with exhaustion now, the physicality of it getting to you. Chris’s pounding was relentless though and you were taking it all so well. He could tell you were exhausted, so he grabbed your shaky arms and held them behind your back in on grip.

“My sweet girl, always so good to me” Chris praised in your ear, you were now close to cumming. You were probably going to cum before him if he kept thrusting this deep into you, while holding your body in place like this. “Taking my cock so good baby, cum with me please. I want you to cum with me”

You could only make a noise of agreement and nod your head in his shoulder. He’d normally make you voice your thoughts but right now he was being easy on you, given that he was the one who initiated this by touching himself— you were only being a good girlfriend and helping him out.

His last few thrusts were sloppy but effective and he had you cumming all over his cock, your pussy clenching and unclenching with the waves of pleasure washing over you. Your hands gripped his hair hard. His praises and curses sounded far away to you now since your orgasm made your ears muffled and your brain foggy.

Nevertheless, you could feel Chris cumming inside of you a couple thrusts after you. He bit down on your shoulder and grunted loudly. The feeling of his hot load filling you up inside was always the part that made your body spasm and your legs give out.

He rode out both of your orgasms with small slow thrust while you came down from your highs. Your body draped on top of his and you made no effort to get off of him since you knew he liked to stay inside you after. Plus you couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

You could feel Chris petting your hair and leaving sweet kisses on your temple. He mumbled sweet words into your ear as you drifted off to sleep, content that you helped your boyfriend out instead of him having to do it himself. You would deal with your aching muscles and sore body tomorrow, right now everything was perfect.

*masterlist

a/n: is it just me or has Chris been the hottest most sexiest little slut lately? I cannot get him out of my head 🛐

₊━ִ─ LEV ᡴꪫㅤ·⠀· 

[call-memissbrightside]

a continuation of this one-shot

warnings: mentions of cheating, having an affair, bad-words, relationship insecurity, hints of NSFW, (Y/N) cries a lot but honestly I would too lmao

"If you think crying like this will make me want you, you're a fucking idiot."

You instinctively flinch, like Katsuki's words were physically hitting you. He notices your small movement from the corner of his eye, and moves so that his back is facing you to almost save you from the wrath he was unleashing on his ex-wife.

You weren't going to tell him what Ochako said to you. Because you knew it would cause trouble between them when that was the last thing you wanted. When accepting to marry the hero, you decided that no matter what, you wouldn't further cause tension between them. For Katsumi's sake.

Yet, it was Katsumi who told her father. Somehow she stole her mother's phone the moment they returned to Ochako's home across town and called Katsuki, explaining what she saw even if she didn't understand the whole story: mommy yelling at (Y/N) and making her cry.

Katsuki didn't hesitate to immediately coming home when receiving the distressing call from his own daughter, and scared the absolute crap out of you when he seemed to pop out of nowhere and demanded to know what Uraraka said to you.

Seeing his anger made you submit all too easily, and he patiently listened to you tell him what happened through broken sobs and snot pouring from your nose as you tried calming down. Katsuki was upset that you were upset, and had the idea to hug you, comfort you but then his phone rang.

Now he paced the living room, half listening to excuses Uraraka gave him for being unnecessarily cruel to you. You watched him from the plush couch, hiccuping now instead of intensely crying.

"I'm getting the lawyers involved," He barked, cutting off whatever his ex-wife was saying. You shake your head, not wanting to cause more drama but Katsuki holds a hand up to stop you. Leaning more into the couch cushion, you bite on your lip as anxiety digs into you.

"Tell Katsumi I love her and that she's not in trouble for calling me. You better not punish her for doing the right thing. I'll be damned if my daughter gets in trouble for calling her own father, you fucking bitch." He leaves it at that, promptly hanging up the phone before Ochako could have a word in.

Katsuki tosses his phone down onto the coffee table and rubs his face groaning. You watch, silent, not knowing what to do or say.

Noticing your cheeks were still read and how puffy your eyes became from crying, Katsuki cooed softly, "Come here baby, it's okay."

Holding his arms open, you immediately get up to let him hold you. Burying your face into his chest, you inhale his strong, expensive cologne. It works wonders to calm your racing heart.

"Let me see you, " Katsuki whispers, cupping your face gently so that you could look up at him. His red eyes burned like embers and seeing concern in them makes your bottom lip wobble so you bite it to stop from trembling.

"No, no," Katsuki lightly chastises, pulling your bottom lip with his thumb, tracing it lightly over the bite makes you gave yourself.

You still don't know what to say, but a broken, "Sorry."

Katsuki will have none of that, he scoffs and rolls his eyes, "No (Y/N), I'm sorry my ex is a fucking cunt."

You're still sensitive, and hearing him say something that cruel makes you flinch.

"Don't call her that Katsuki, she is still Katsumi's mom." You're careful on correcting him, knowing he doesn't like it when you do that.

Katsuki sighs loudly, you feel him inhale and exhale. Looking back down at his phone, he looks almost annoyed. "She is, huh?"

Turning back to you, Katsuki can't help but admire how you look at him with your full attention, like you can't help but hang onto his every word. When he leans down to kiss you, it starts off slow and sensual. His tongue dominates yours and you completely relax against him, getting lost in his kiss.

"You think all that shit 'chako said was true?" Katsuki mumbles against your lips. Your eyes were closed and they stayed closed, but your eyebrows furrowed at his question. You don't respond.

"You wouldn't have cried that hard if you didn't think it was true."

He knows he's right. You know he's right. But you continue not to say anything, embarrassed to be so quick to lose trust in your husband from one simple conversation. Katsuki looks at how how your face begins to crumble, and is hurt from your hesitance.

"Look at me baby," He demands, and a smile almost graces his face when you listen to him. Fingers that were threaded in the hair by your neck tightened, making your neck snap up.

"None of that shit Ochako said was true." Katsuki looks straight into your eyes and you knew he was telling the truth. A weight that you weren't even aware of seemed to be lifted from your chest, and you almost wanted to begin crying from relief. But you don't, because you knew that would only irritate Katsuki further.

"Do you regret marrying me Katsuki?" You finally ask.

He really didn't have to marry you. You sure weren't expecting him to when the affair was leaked to the press, and after Ochako announced their divorce in a press statement. That was hell for you, when the whole world learned you were sleeping with Japan's #2 hero, who was married and a father. It hurt even worse when people realized you were the babysitter, like you purposely broke up the Bakugou family for your own personal gain. That wasn't true, it just happened and yes, you felt horrible about it but also you and Katsuki were real. No one, absolutely no one, wanted to hear your side of the story. Their minds were made up.

You lost everything from having an affair with Katsuki Bakugou.

Your parents were so disappointed, they cut off all contact with you. You had to drop out of college mid-semester after getting harassed by your peers. Fans of Katsuki would throw things at you when you'd walk through campus. Coffee, paint, condoms. Uravity fans were even worse, calling you all the horrible names in the book: slut, whore, home-wrecker, gold digger. They bullied you online constantly, and you had to take down all your social media pages because it got so bad. And when your phone number got leaked online? You almost went mad with the countless calls and messages from trolls that you broke your phone just to have peace. You were broke because no one wanted to hire you, especially not as a nanny.

You truly thought that Katsuki would end things during that time. He would only call you from a new, secure phone his assistant dropped off at your dorm, hearing you cry about all the things people had done and all the names they called you. It was a while before you got to see him again in-person, due to his publicity team deeming it appropriate to wait it out until the divorce was settled.

You didn't think Katsuki would stick around. You already cried and yearned for him when under the impression that he'd leave you. Sure, the relationship started with just hot sex. But you liked to believe that there were moments when you saw the real Katsuki, the one who was kind and gentle with you, the one you loved. God, after all the shit you endured because of him, you still loved him. That's what made it hard to finally see him, because you convinced yourself he was only asking you out to break things off with you completely.

Yet, when Katsuki went down on one knee and asked you to marry him, you burst into tears and said yes before really thinking about it because you were just glad he loved you and chose you.

It all happened so fast, too fast and you were slowly cracking under the idea that all of this was a mistake.

Katsuki laughs.

He fucking laughs. Whatever vulnerability you felt comfortable sharing with him is locked away in your chest.

"Fuck you!" You yell, pushing at his chest but there's no way you're getting away from him. Not if he didn't want you too.

Katsuki kisses you silly, and only pulls you back when you try to speak up.

"Stupid woman," He whispers against your lips. "I must be a bad husband if I have you thinking I regret ever choosing to be with you."

He's smirking now, thumbs tracing the underlying of your jaw.

"Go to the bedroom and wait for me, and I'll show you just how much you mean to me."

Your body heats up at his words, and he finally lets you go. Katsuki was never much of a talker, but rather liked showing how he felt. You knew you would never get a full explanation from him on what or why he decided to marry you, but you body ignited at how he would explain in the bedroom.

Yelping at the feeling of his hand swat at your behind when you turn to head towards the bedroom, Katsuki laughs out loud again.

Checking his phone as he grabs his hardening cock in his pants, his eyes look over the countless messages and emails notifications to see if any need his attention immediately.

Assistant Hana: when will you be back?

"Katsuki!" You yell from the room.

"Be there in a few, calm down!" He yells back, texting a quick message.

Bakugou: i got important business to deal with at home

A/N: I was going to continue the angst but surprisingly i decided to go with a 'happy' ending. i'll probably make more one shots using this storyline, keep a lookout for them.

[exhaslo]

Puzzle Pieces Ch. 6

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5

Warning: Eventual Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex

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There was just a small ray of sunshine threatening to poke through your curtains. Wincing at the light, you whimpered as you started to wake up. Fluttering your eyes open, you slowly tried to adjust to the room's lighting. It took you a moment to realize that you weren't in your room, but still in the living room.

"Hm?"

Slowly sitting up, you rubbed your eyes, bobbing your head as you woke up. Feeling something poke against your panties, you looked down and immediately grew flustered. Miguel was sleeping on the couch, which meant that you slept on top of him all night.

Covering your face with your sleeves, you shyly looked down to see what was poking you. A squeak nearly escaped your throat as you quickly got up. Feeling something over your shoulders, you gripped onto Miguel's jacket and proceeded to cover your face with it. Shyly, you glanced towards Miguel's erection,

"Hm...."

You were debating on waking him, but he looked so relaxed. Still holding onto his jacket, you quickly went to get Miguel your pillow and blanket, wanting him to be more comfortable. Once fixing him, you quickly went to wash up and prepare breakfast.

Once washed up, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, trying to cover your flustered cheeks. Miguel actually stayed over the night. The two of you actually kissed. Pressing his jacket towards your lips, you couldn't help but smile.

Putting his jacket on, you giggle towards how big it was on you. It felt nice and cozy. Eddie never let you wear his stuff. Flinching at the thought, you shook the memories away and hurried to the kitchen. Miguel was a big man, he must eat a heavy breakfast. Hopefully, he will like your cooking.

---------

Miguel grunted softly as he slowly started to come to. He winced towards the light, hissing very quietly as he covered his face. With a heavy inhale, Miguel shot up, wondering why he was smelling food. Immediately, he recalled knocking out at your place.

Miguel sighed quietly as he spotted you making breakfast in your small kitchen. A smile against his lips as you wore his jacket. Miguel wasn't going to say anything about the horrid smell of bacon soaking into the jacket. No. He wasn't going to say anything because of how good you looked wearing his clothes.

He licked his lips, remembering how you tasted last night. Moving your blanket off him, Miguel tensed at his large erection. Did you happen to see it? Glancing towards you again, Miguel knew that if he were to masturbate here, it would not be quietly.

"Hm~ Hm~ Bacon and eggs~ Mhm~ Bacon and Eggs," You chuckled, singing quietly to yourself.

"Can I assume bacon and eggs are on the menu?" Miguel asked, watching you jump.

"M-Miguel! M-Morning! H-How...How did you sleep?" You asked him, quickly lowering the heat and hurrying to him. Once you were close enough, Miguel stole a quick kiss,

"Honestly, better than most nights," He told you, watching your cheeks turn bright red, "How did my little bunny sleep?"

"A-Ah...G-Good...S-Sorry if I'm heavy."

"Ha, heavy?" Miguel stroked your cheek, enjoying you nuzzle your head into his palm, "Nothing of the sort."

"Mhm~" You hummed happily, "Um...I have s-some spare bathroom amenities if you want to w-wash up...I...I uh, don't have any clothes for you...if...if you like morning s-showers." You stuttered, playing with his jacket sleeves.

"I'll just wash my face, thank you."

Miguel stole one more kiss from you before heading to the bathroom. He needed to take care of his little problem down there. Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he sat on the toilet seat and grabbed his cock in his hands. Just having you sit on his lap last night was such a turn on.

Miguel grunted lowly as he stroked faster. He couldn't believe what you were doing to him. Normally Miguel would never break like this whenever he fucked a woman. It was always just a quick relief, but you. Oh, you were tormenting him.

"Fuck...(Y/N)..." Miguel groaned, hoping that the running water was loud enough to cover his lewd noises.

"B-Breakfast is r-ready, Miguel!" You called out.

His name rolled off your lips so nicely. All you had to do was cry it out as Miguel stuffed your pussy with his dick. To have you putty in the palm of his hands.

"(Y/N)," Miguel groaned, cumming against his hand.

Taking a moment to catch his breathe, Miguel proceeded to clean up the mess he made. This was what you were doing to him. You were making the biggest and baddest mafia leader cum in your bathroom. You were breaking Miguel down.

---------

"Um...I-I wasn't sure how much you liked to eat...S-So...I hope this is a big enough...portion." You said, placing the plate in front of him, "I-I hope you like it."

Miguel didn't have the heart to tell you that he never truly ate a home cooked meal before. This would be the first in a very long time he had a meal in the comfort of a home. Also, you gave him quite a big portion. Miguel resisted a chuckle at your adorable attempt. You were already doing a good job as his future wife.

"Sit and eat with me." Miguel told you. You nodded, grabbing your small plate and sitting across from him at your small table, "Is that enough to fill you?"

"O-Oh, yes. Y-You know I don't eat much,"

"Hm," Miguel kept eye contact with you before you both started to eat, "You look good in my jacket. Keep it."

"O-OH! S-Sorry! I-It was just...so cozy...A-Are you sure?"

"That jacket will just be the first of many clothes of mine you'll wear," Miguel muttered lowly, watching you smile into the jacket sleeves, "Yes, amor (love)."

"Oh, um, I-I've been m-meaning to ask. W-What does...amor mean? A-And that other w-word you c-call me sometimes...con...conjeta?" You did your best to repeat. Miguel chuckled lowly,

"They're just my little nicknames for you. Nothing bad," He hummed, taking a bite of his food, "You're good at cooking."

"Oh, um...T-Thank you." You nibbled on your toast, glancing towards Miguel, "Um, about last night...W-Why were you asking me all of that stuff about...the mafia?"

Miguel avoided your gaze, knowing that he would cave. He had decided to hold off on telling you about that part of his life. Miguel wanted to take care of you first. He wanted to make sure that you were willing to stay with him no matter what.

"Yesterday at Central Park. It was a mafia attack, I wanted to make sure that you were okay. This city if filled with different mafia gangs. I'm sure you weren't aware of that when you arrived in this city."

"Oh...no...."

"I had a feeling." Miguel stood from his seat, taking his empty plate to the sink. You quickly followed, taking the plate from him, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Hm? Oh, um...T-This will be my...first Halloween here...S-So I'm not sure," You admitted while doing the dishes.

Miguel stood behind you, watching you hesitantly roll your sleeves up. He furrowed his brows, seeing small cuts on your wrists. Inhaling deeply, Miguel looked away immediately. As much as he wanted to be angry, something else was boiling inside Miguel instead.

"I'll pick you up after work tomorrow. It's too dangerous to be alone here." His voice got lower as he started to walk towards the door.

You gasped, quickly finishing up and drying your hands. Rushing towards Miguel as he approached the door, you gripped his shirt slightly. Miguel slowly turned towards you, pity in his eyes. You frowned at the sight before hugging him,

"E-Even though...we got interrupted...I-I was really h-happy with our date y-yesterday!"

Miguel hung his shoulders before turning around to engulf you in his embrace. He lifted your chin slightly, giving you another deep kiss. He resisted a smile as he felt you go on your tippy toes to try and gain from height on him. You were too cute.

"Until tomorrow, mi amor (my love)."

"Mhpm~"

----------

The crimson sunset coated the city beautifully. It looked even better with a glass of vodka in Miguel's hand as he sat on the roof of his penthouse. A cold breeze blowing against his hair, distracting Miguel of all his frustrations.

After leaving your place, Miguel couldn't get the image of those scars out of his mind. Not even Alchemax nor his mafia business could erase those vivid images.

"(Y/N)," Miguel whispered your name ever so gently.

Someone as innocent as you should have never thought of such a thing. This emotion Miguel was feeling was sorrow. Never had he'd encounter such a thing close hand. Miguel found it strange. He could easily kill someone or stand before a dead body...

But the thought of you being one of them?

Sipping his liquor, Miguel kept repeating the image of you rolling your sleeves hesitantly. Something that you desperately wanted to hide. You were scared. Miguel didn't want you to be scared. He wanted to understand.

And the kill the fucker who hurt you.

"Lyla, I have a mission. I need that brat Miles on this case." Miguel spat as he took out his phone.

'Sure thing boss. Where shall I send him?'

"(Y/N)'s hometown. I need to know who her ex was and what exactly happened between those two."

"Ohhhhh~ You're serious about her~" Lyla giggled over the phone, "Does this mean I can finally kick out all those greedy sluts who keep knocking at the office?"

"I thought I already told you to do that?" Miguel shook his head slightly, "Actually, do whatever. I just need that information."

"Yes sir,"

Hanging up on his assistant, Miguel let out a heavy sigh. The stress of everything was getting to him, plus the holidays were around the corner. Miguel needed to relieve his stress, but he was waiting for you. He refused to see any other women if he was going to make you his wife.

"(Y/N),"

----------

You hummed quietly as you worked on another puzzle. The thought of yesterday still lingering in your mind. Miguel's treatment towards you and the kiss. He was such a great boyfriend. You were just worried if you were being a good girlfriend.

That was always your worry.

Clenching the puzzle piece in your hand, you tried to calm down and forget the past. Nothing you ever did was good enough. You were never a good girlfriend. Shaking as tears rolled down your cheeks, you rushed into your bedroom and engulfed yourself in Miguel's jacket.

The warmth, the coziness and most of all, his scent was still there. Wrapping yourself in his jacket started to calm you down. Slowly returning to your puzzle with Miguel's jacket on, you tried to go back to your mental safe space.

Miguel wouldn't be this nice to you if you weren't being a good girlfriend, right? Looking at your bookshelf full of puzzles, you wondered if Miguel would like to do one with you? Perhaps tomorrow, you could bring one along with your cookies you forgot to give him.

"Maybe...I should ask him?" You muttered, looking for your phone.

Once found, you first texted Miguel asking if it was okay to call him. You didn't want to be a burden after all. Within a second, Miguel was the one to call you.

"H-Hey!"

"Are you alright?" Miguel asked. You smiled into your sleeve,

"Y-Yeah, I just wanted to ask you...what we were doing tomorrow night? If...If it's alright...for me....to bring something."

"Oh, I should have explained better, sorry mi amor. The city is pretty dangerous on Halloween. I want you to stay over at my place so I can keep you safe. Bring whatever you need to feel comfortable."

"S-So a puzzle?!" You chirped, not even registering the part where you were staying over at his place.

Miguel chuckled over the phone, "As many puzzles as you want." He hummed.

You cheered quietly, "I can't w-wait! Goodnight, Miguel~"

"Goodnight, (Y/N)"

Once you hung up, you quickly went to your wall of puzzles, wondering which one Miguel would like. After deciding on a few, you finally registered what Miguel said. Your face turned bright red as you dropped the box on the floor,

"I-I'm s-staying over....at....at M-Miguel's?!"

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next chapter

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 5

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior

Grogginess clouded your senses as you gradually came to.

The world around you seemed hazy and unfocused, with shadows dancing at the edges of your vision. Every attempt to concentrate or bring clarity to your thoughts was met with a heavy fog that refused to lift, making it difficult to know where you were or how you got there.

You became acutely aware of the dryness in your mouth, each breath feeling like sandpaper against your parched throat. The inside of your cheeks felt rough and sticky, as if covered with a film of grit. Your tongue lay like a foreign object in your mouth, swollen and sluggish, coated in a bitter residue that you couldn't identify. It tasted like a combination of metal and something medicinal, a flavor that made you want to scrape your tongue against your teeth to remove it.

When you attempted to shift your position, you discovered that your limbs weren't being responsive. It was as if your body had forgotten how to obey your commands, each movement slow and half-hearted. Your muscles ached with a deep, persistent fatigue, and a strange tingling sensation spread from your fingers to your toes, like tiny pinpricks dancing just beneath your skin.

As you lay there, a faint awareness began to seep into your mind. The surroundings, though still blurred and indistinct, began to register as unfamiliar. The bed beneath you was far too grand, its dimensions larger and its surface plusher than what you were used to. You could feel the mattress giving way just enough to cradle your body comfortably. The sheets caressed your skin with an unfamiliar softness, a level of luxury that hinted at high quality and expense. Silk, you guessed, or perhaps some other exotic fabric that you had only read about. Above you, the ceiling stretched high into the air, adorned with golden filigree that caught the dim light from the nearby flickering candle.

Turning your head slightly, you caught sight of the heavy drapes framing the windows. The fabric was rich and velvety, its deep red color absorbing the faint light that filtered through. They were only partially drawn, allowing a sliver of the outside world to be visible. Through the gap, you could see the night sky, the moon casting a pale glow over the village.

And that's when reality struck you.

The room, the bed, the view of the village, and the high ceiling all combined into a sudden, shocking realization that sent a jolt through your body.

You were in Lady Dimitrescu’s bedchambers.

Why were you here?

You wracked your brain, trying to piece together the events that led to your current predicament but nothing would come forth. You needed to get out of here.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you attempted to push yourself up from the bed. Each muscle in your body protested, sending jolts of pain through your already exhausted frame. Your arms trembled as you forced them to lift your weight, and a sharp, stinging sensation shot through your back and shoulders. Just then, a tall figure materialized beside the bed. Lady Dimitrescu’s expression was unreadable as she gently but firmly pressed you back down onto the mattress.

“You should stay in bed.” Her tone was soothing, yet it held an edge that made it clear she expected to be obeyed.

Her gaze locked onto yours, piercing and intense, holding you captive. Then, a faint, almost predatory smile played on her lips, sending a shiver through you.

“You're not ready to be up just yet.”

Desperately, you tried to remember what happened, but your mind was a hazy mess. Each thought was slow to form and quick to dissipate like smoke in the wind. You knew something was wrong, that this weakness and disorientation wasn’t normal. Your head throbbed with the effort of trying to recall.

There.

Clinging to that fleeting moment of clarity, you concentrated on the last clear memory you had. It was like grasping at shadows, but gradually, the scene started to sharpen. You recalled sitting at a dining table, a drink in your hand. The memory was vivid for a moment – the cool glass in your grip, the clink of crystal as you took a sip, bright golden eyes meeting yours from across the table – and then it faded into darkness.

The image of those eyes lingered, a focal point in the swirling confusion of your thoughts, drawing you back to that pivotal moment.

“You...drugged me.” You managed to whisper, your voice barely audible and cracking with the effort.

Lady Dimitrescu's smile broadened, offering no immediate confirmation or denial.

With a grace and tenderness that belied her massive stature, she reached out to adjust the blanket draped over you. It was an unexpectedly nurturing gesture, one that contrasted sharply with her cruel nature.

“Why?” The question slipped from your lips, your voice barely more than a quiver in the silence.

You searched her eyes for answers, for any hint of her intentions, but found only a disconcerting calmness.

Lady Dimitrescu's gaze remained fixed on you, her smile unwavering and enigmatic as her left hand rested against the side of your face. The touch of her palm on your cheek was both soothing and chilling. The coolness of her skin was a stark contrast to the feverish warmth of your own.

“All in good time. For now, you should rest.” She said lowly.

You wanted to protest, to demand answers, however, your body refused to cooperate, the strength draining from your limbs as if sapped by an unseen force. The words died in your throat, replaced by a deep, consuming fatigue. Your eyelids grew heavier with each passing second, the room around you blurring into a comforting darkness. The effort to keep them open became a losing battle, the allure of sleep too strong to resist.

The drug's effects were unrelenting, pulling you under and you could do nothing but succumb to its relentless call.

***

The warmth of the sunlight streaming in through the tall windows roused you from a fitful sleep.

You blinked against the bright light, momentarily disoriented as your surroundings came into focus. As your awareness sharpened, you realized that something – or someone – was wrapped around you. The warmth against your back, the steady rise and fall of another's breath. It all pointed to one startling conclusion: you were enveloped in Lady Dimitrescu's arms. Her form was curled protectively around you, her body molded to yours in an intimate embrace.

Instinctively, you tried to wriggle free, your heart racing as adrenaline coursed through your veins. The sensation of her strong, unyielding arms holding you in place sent a jolt of panic through your system. You floundered, your movements frantic and desperate, but the attempt to break away only seemed to tighten her grip, her arms constricting around you with surprising strength.

“Please,” your voice was so weak. “L-Let go.”

Lady Dimitrescu stirred behind you, her presence shifting as she awoke more fully.

“Hush, darling, there's no need to fuss.” She murmured, her voice still thick with sleep but carrying a commanding tone that brooked no argument.

Her words did little to calm you. You struggled again but her grip was too strong, her fingers like iron bands around your arms. The sheer power she possessed was frightening, and the more you fought, the more futile your efforts seemed. It was as if she were effortlessly restraining a child. Lady Dimitrescu chuckled softly, the sound resonating deep within her chest and sending a vibration through your back.

“Shhh, pet,” she crooned, “You must learn to relax. If you don’t stop squirming, I won’t release you.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine.

The situation felt surreal, like a bizarre dream from which you couldn't wake. Yet, the heat from her body pressed against yours and the firmness of her grip were undeniably real. Resignation crept in, and you stopped struggling, your muscles tensing as you braced yourself for whatever was to come.

“That's better,” Lady Dimitrescu purred, her voice taking on a saccharine sweetness that made your skin crawl. “See? It's not so bad, is it?”

The gentle brush of her lips against your earlobe and the warmth of her breath against your neck was unnerving. It felt invasive, a forced intimacy that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“Now, let's enjoy the morning, shall we?”

***

Lady Dimitrescu sat regally in front of her vanity.

She was already dressed in her signature white dress, the fabric cascading around her like a waterfall of silk. She picked up her lipstick, a small tube of deep red, and applied the rich color to her lips with practiced precision. The crimson hue stood in stark contrast to her alabaster skin, highlighting her sharp, aristocratic features.

As she deftly traced the curves of her lips, perfecting the application, she caught movement from her bed in the reflection of her vanity mirror. Her eyes, sharp and observant, landed on you through the glass, and a small, amused smirk appeared on her lips.

“You’re awake, I see.” She commented casually.

She capped the lipstick and set it down on the vanity with a delicate touch. In one graceful motion, she rose from her seat, her dress flowing around her as she approached the side of the bed where you lay.

You gazed up at her hazily, blinking slowly as you tried to focus, your mind still foggy from sleep. Lady Dimitrescu made a cooing noise as she stared down at you, a sound that was both soothing and slightly mocking. She reached out and brushed your hair away from your forehead, her touch gentle.

“Don’t you look adorable like this.” She remarked.

There was a gleam in her eyes, a spark of satisfaction that suggested she enjoyed seeing you like this – helpless and at her mercy. The corners of her lips curled into a faint, almost imperceptible smile before her expression changed into something inscrutable.

You couldn’t help but tremble as her gloved fingers moved from your forehead and traced down the curve of your jawline. Her touch was cool and calculated, sending goosebumps across your flesh. Her eyes scanned your face with an intensity that made your skin prickle. It felt as though she was dissecting every detail, analyzing and cataloging each feature.

She straightened up once more, her towering form casting a long shadow over you.

“I will have the staff prepare breakfast for you,” Lady Dimitrescu said tenderly. “I’ll be back shortly.”

With that, she turned and walked out of the bedroom.

The space suddenly felt colder and emptier.

All you could do was lay there, staring at the ceiling, trying to recall more of your memories but the fog in your mind made it hard to grasp even the simplest of thoughts. Your brain felt like it was submerged in a thick, oppressive mist, where every attempt to form a coherent idea slipped away into the murk. It made everything that much harder and disjointed. You couldn’t remain like this. The longer you stayed motionless, the more the sense of urgency grew. You didn't want to stay in bed any longer; the idea of being confined felt suffocating, as if the bed itself was a trap holding you in a vice grip.

You forced your muscles to move, straining your arms and legs. The simple act of lifting an arm required immense concentration and willpower, each muscle fiber protesting the command. It felt like moving through thick syrup, every motion slow and difficult. The sheets clung to your body, adding to the resistance.

The moment you hit the floor, a sharp pain shot through your body. The initial impact left you momentarily breathless, and you gasped as the air was knocked out from your lungs. You lay there for a moment, gathering your strength, the chill seeping into your bones, before beginning to crawl across the hardwood floor.

Each movement was a challenge. Your arms felt like lead, barely able to support your weight, and your legs dragged uselessly behind you. The texture of the floor was unforgiving, pressing into your flesh, and you could feel the subtle grains and imperfections against your forearms. Every inch forward was a monumental effort, and your breath came in ragged gasps. Your lungs burned with the exertion, and sweat dripped down your face, stinging your eyes and blurring your vision.

The bedroom seemed to stretch endlessly before you.

Minutes felt like hours as you inched your way across the room, your body trembling with exhaustion. The cold, hard floor seemed to drain the last remnants of your strength with each painful shuffle forward. The door ahead seemed to taunt you, never getting any closer no matter how hard you tried. Just then, the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, growing louder with each passing second. Panic flared up within you, but you were too tired to quicken your pace.

The door swung open and Lady Dimitrescu stepped inside. Her presence filled the doorway as she towered above you. She looked down at you with a mixture of disappointment and irritation, her lips curling into a frown. Her eyes, cold and piercing, bore into yours, making you feel even smaller and more insignificant.

“I should’ve expected this pathetic escape attempt.” She bit out with each word.

You felt a wave of helplessness wash over you, the fight draining from your limbs in an instant. With a resigned sigh of your own, you let your head rest on the floor, too exhausted to protest further.

Lady Dimitrescu walked over to you in a slow, deliberate stride. The sound of her heels clicking against the floor echoed throughout her bedchambers. Her shadow fell over you as she crouched down, scooping you up into her arms. The weight of her embrace was surprisingly gentle yet firm, cradling you as if you were something precious and delicate. As she carried you across the bedroom, you couldn't help but feel small and fragile in her grasp. Once Lady Dimitrescu reached the bedside, she laid you back on the mattress carefully, ensuring you were comfortable before letting go. She arranged the blankets around you with care, smoothing the covers with her hands. Her touch lingered slightly, as if reluctant to break the connection.

“I want you to stay in bed.” Lady Dimitrescu said firmly.

Frustration and exhaustion took over as tears began to well up in your eyes. God, you hated how vulnerable you were at this moment, the raw emotions bubbling to the surface despite your best efforts to contain them. Your vision blurred, and you tried to blink the tears away, but they only flowed more freely down your cheeks.

Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze softened slightly, her usually steely demeanor giving way to a moment of unexpected tenderness. She reached out, her hand large yet gentle, and wiped your tears away with her thumb.

“There’s no need to cry, darling,” she said, her voice low and reassuring. “Just rest.”

Her touch was oddly comforting, despite the circumstances that brought you here. Leaning in, she kissed your forehead, her lips cool against your clammy skin. The soft brush of her lips stirred a bittersweet ache within you, a mix of comfort and disdain.

You sobbed.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 1.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters contain mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, alcohol, explicit content: jungkook has sex with a girl at the party, he overhears OC and Hoseok (no details), mentions of Jungkook knowing about the Incident

☆word count: 1.6k

☆a/n: wrote this in like twenty minutes after being unable to write for a few weeks, let's go :))))) hope you guys enjoy <3

☆join the discord server here!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook has been playing beer pong with Jimin for a while. They’re undefeated, like they most always are, and he’s buzzed with victory, but not alcohol because of course he’s not drinking tonight.

Mostly, he’s buzzed because he just beat you and the guy you were playing with, the one that looks a little too comfortable next to you. So Jungkook teases you about the game, his heart rate spiking momentarily as you blush lightly and playfully glare at him.

It’s been doing that every time he teases you since he met you last semester, and he’s grown addicted to it, which might be the reason why he teases you all the time. But then the guy interrupts, asking you if you want a drink.

“Please, I need a new drink,” you answer.

The guy smiles, and Jungkook can’t help himself. He reaches out, grabbing your arm gently to attract your attention. “I’m not drinking tonight,” he says after he let go of you. “I came with my car, thought I’d offer you a ride home.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “What?”

“As long as you don’t get sick, that is,” Jungkook teases, a smirk playing with the corners of his mouth. 

You don’t answer for a few seconds, but then you let out, “Ayt.” You move closer to him, a smile growing on your lips. “I’ll find you later?”

Jungkook is aware that you’re close now. Close enough so that he sees the way your eyes are sparkling with mischief as you look up at him, head tilted back. His tongue pushes on the inside of his cheek as he tilts his head to the side, and then he smirks as he glances at Hoseok before looking at you again.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

He means it. He fully does, yet he forces himself to leave then, even though you looked like you might want to say something else.

Later, when you return in Jungkook’s vicinity, all he can notice is the bright red hickey that’s appeared on your neck, and he clenches his jaw, only to relax it a few seconds later. Especially as you glance at him, asking Jimin and him not to tell Taehyung about the guy you apparently were kissing a moment ago.

As the hickey on your neck seems to indicate, too.

“Lips sealed,” Jungkook says.

“Didn’t feel like playing with your friends?” Jimin asks you, not replying to your request, and Jungkook notices the two girls at the beer pong table. The pretty one meets his gaze for a few seconds - Ria, he thinks - and he smiles at her, only for her to look away immediately.

“They don’t need me,” you claim as you take a sip of what looks to be rum and coke.

“Pretty sure you’d be a liability anyway,” Jungkook jokes.

That cute blush reappears on your cheeks, and Jungkook’s heart warms for a few seconds, right as he and Jimin laugh.

“I did get the redemption shot!” you say, and Jungkook can’t help himself.

He can’t help himself but nudge you with his elbow playfully. “Doesn’t count, your little boyfriend got all the other shots for you.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you insist quickly.

“Of course not,” Jungkook says, cocking an eyebrow.

Jimin intervenes, “Leave her alone. She did her best.” It’s his turn to smile mischievously. “Not her fault if her best sucks.”

“Bruh,” you let out, and then you’re all laughing.

Jungkook likes this. You rarely hang out with him and Jimin, but he’s always found you fun to be around, despite the fact that you are Taehyung’s sister.

The way you occasionally make his heart race in his chest probably contributes to it.

You and Jimin start talking, and Jungkook finds himself joining in the conversation less and less. Perhaps because the pretty almond eyes of a certain Shelly have attracted his attention, even though you’re right here beside him. He excuses himself, and then he’s walking towards Shelly who smiles at him knowingly.

It’s not too long until Jungkook is buried inside of her in the upstairs bathroom, and though he usually takes his time with her, tonight he only pursues his pleasure, filling up the condom with cum before he’s made sure to please her.

Shelly doesn’t mind. She’s playful about it, teasing Jungkook, and he just kisses her deeply before pulling away. They clean up and get dressed, and when they’re ready, Jungkook grabs her hand and pulls her out of the bathroom.

Only to be met by your startled gaze the second he opens the door.

He lets go of Shelly’s hand almost instantly, holding your gaze but not saying anything. Shelly must have sensed the awkwardness slowly seeping in the atmosphere, because she leaves, not once looking back.

“Really?” you let out.

Jungkook pokes his cheek with his tongue before laughing lightly. “You told me not to fuck at home anymore.”

You purse your lips. “Didn’t expect you would respect it.”

“I’m not an asshole, peach,” Jungkook says, and it’s a little cold, a little mean. He can’t help it - it’s offensive to him that you didn’t believe him when he said he wouldn’t bring his hookups at home anymore. Like maybe his word is worth nothing, when he prides himself in trying to always respect it.

“Sorry,” you apologize.

There’s a silence, and Jungkook folds his arms on his chest as he leans against the door frame. He feels like he should say something, but he doesn’t know what, so he contents himself with looking at you as you clearly seem awkward under his gaze.

“Jimin went home,” you finally say.

A group of people appears at the top of the stairs, and Jungkook pushes up from the door frame, walking towards you. “Do you want to go home too?”

You tilt your head back so that you can meet his gaze. “You already want to go home?” You wet your lips, immediately attracting Jungkook’s gaze.

He scoffs. “I’m not drinking, I don’t see why I’d stay longer.”

“Why aren’t you drinking anyway?”

He offers you a smile. “Got morning shift at the library tomorrow.”

“Ah… Well…” You glance at the group of people as they exit the room where the coats are, and then look back to Jungkook. “My friend is supposed to sleep over, can I go find him?”

And though he was buzzing with the ecstasy from coming just a moment ago, Jungkook finds annoyance replacing it.

“Who?”

“Hoseok,” you reply.

“Ah, the guy you played beer pong with.” Jungkook smirks. “Thought he wasn’t your boyfriend.”

You furrow your brows. “He isn’t.”

“Then why are you bringing him home, peach?” Jungkook asks.

He doesn’t like your teasing answer. Doesn’t like that you tell him to imagine. Because he does. He fucking does, and he’s clenching his jaw as you all walk to his car a little later, the arctic winter night doing nothing to ease his annoyance. 

He doesn’t like the guy - Hoseok - getting a weird vibe from him that he blames on the fact that he knows you masturbated to the sounds of him and Shelly having sex a few days ago. It’s made him all too aware of you, as if he wasn’t enough already, and he doesn’t like that you’ll be with the guy in just a moment.

You reach his car, getting in, and Jungkook clenches his jaw as you choose to sit on the backseat with Hoseok. He meets your gaze in the rearview mirror, almost wanting to tell you to come sit with him in the front, but he refrains, not wanting to make a fool out of himself.

When he deems the car hot enough to drive, Jungkook starts driving, heading back home. He puts the radio on, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel to the beat of the song, up until he notices Hoseok getting closer to you on the backseat.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Hoseok tells you.

Jungkook’s fingers stop drumming on the wheel.

“Please don’t judge the state of the apartment,” you say, leaning closer to Hoseok. “This idiot doesn’t know how to -”

Jungkook almost bursts out laughing, because he’s always made sure to keep his living space clean but instead, he slams on the breaks, smiling contentedly when you and Hoseok both sit back in your respective seats.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, though he doesn’t mean it at all.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence, as Jungkook tries his best not to think about what you’re about to do. It’s sinful, to think of you that way, yet he can’t help it.

Especially not as, about twenty minutes later, he has a front row seat to the sounds of the action in your room, and his dick goes rock hard in his pants. 

He curses, ignoring his erection, instead putting on his earbuds, turning up the volume until he can’t hear you anymore. It doesn’t do anything to his imagination, which still runs wild with thoughts of you, but at least he doesn’t have to hear you anymore.

He sighs, lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, focusing on the fixture that he’s almost never turned on since he moved in because he prefers using his LED lights. It does nothing to distract him from his arousal, so he curses again, rolling on his side.

This night promises to be a long night.

Read chapter one here!

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hope you guys liked it!! jk's not much a loverboy in this one but that's bc he's in deep denial haha :') let me know what you thought about the drabble!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 23

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: getting suggestive again, and dealing with trauma wc: 2.3k

Chapter Selection

“Are you sure you want to do this today, honey? You’ve already made a lot of progress today…” I frowned slightly. Jason was chewing on his lower lip, sitting in front of me on my bed. The lights were on, and he was in a tank top, showing me his arms.

He nodded slowly, reaching for my hand. “I want to do this. I just … need a second.”

I squeezed his hand, nodding. “Anything you want. … Do you know how much or how little you want me to react?”

“... No … Um … just your natural reaction, I guess? … Don't touch though. Not yet.”

I nodded, holding his hand in both of mine. “Ok. Whenever you're ready.”

He nodded, looking at our hands for a second before sliding his hand away, shakily taking his shirt off. I sat back, watching as he slowly revealed his muscular chest and stomach. He had a little bit of hair trailing from his belly button to the hem of his pants, and scars peppered his torso. Something short-circuited in my brain as he dropped his shirt to the side; a primal growl poured out of my throat and I slapped my hands over my face.

“... What on earth was that???” Jason squeaked, staring at me wide eyed.

“... I'm so sorry…” I hid my face against my knees, blushing bright red.

“... Did you seriously just growl??”

“Do you seriously look like that?!” I shot back, blushing bright red. “Oh my god, Jay… how the hell am I supposed to function now??”

He blushed bright red, grabbing his shirt again. “Is it that bad?”

“No!!” I held a hand up to stop him; “no, it's not bad! … Why would it be bad???”

He blushed more, gesturing to a thin, pink line down the center of his stomach. I followed it up his chest where it split between his pecs, frowning a little. I hadn't noticed it until he pointed it out. “... That is not at all what I thought we were talking about here.”

“What were you looking at??”

“The muscles??? … My love, do you not realize you are shaped like Hercules after the training montage?”

He blushed bright red, staring down at himself. His chest and stomach had dozens of more prominent scars, but he seemed fixated on the one in the center. “... I … guess?”

I groaned softly, flopping backward to lay down. “Mhhh, fuck … can we be Hercules and Megara for Halloween next year?”

He chuckled softly. “If you want. … It's really not that bad?”

 I looked up at him, biting my lower lip softly. “Mhh~ not bad in the slightest. … I think this is one of those things where it's more noticeable to you, because it bothers you, than it is to others.”

“... Oh…” he frowned a bit, staring at it more.

“... Why does it bother you so much?”

“... I'm a zombie …” he whispered sadly.

“... Oh….” I frowned, sitting up slowly, finally understanding. That was an autopsy scar. “... Can I have your hand?”

He nodded, holding it out to me. I stroked the palm gently. “Do you feel that?” He nodded, and I held his hand to my cheek. “Hm, … feels warm.” I pressed two fingers to his wrist. “And that's a pulse. Nope, I'm sorry sweetie, but I don't think you qualify as a zombie.”

He blushed a bit, chuckling weakly. “... I was brought back from the dead…”

“You're the classics nerd in the room; how many demi-gods, heroes, and men of myth have been resurrected?”

“... A lot.”

“Were they zombies after?”

“... No… not usually.”

“Then why are you any different?”

He blinked a bit, frowning. “... I'm not … I'm not like them.”

“No, you're better. You're right here in front of me.” I kissed his palm, stroking his forearm gently. “You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

He nodded slowly, blushing brightly. “... Ok, … you … really like the muscles?”

“Ohhh baby, yessss~” I purred softly, already imagining getting my teeth on his pecs. “You have no idea the things I want to do with you~”

He blushed brightly, hesitantly grinning. A shocked chuckle slipped out of his mouth as he looked down at his chest again; “... Ok, … you can touch now.”

“I can??” I blushed brightly.

“If you want,” he smiled shyly at me.

I grinned, nodding. “Oh, I want. But do you want?”

He chuckled softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. He slowly pulled me closer, whispering; “Why don't we start with this?”

I nodded, shifting closer, and he pulled me into a soft kiss. I rested my forearms on his shoulders, letting him lead for now, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. His thumbs caressed my sides, sliding under my shirt a bit as he pulled me closer. I sighed happily against his lips, letting one hand rest on his shoulder. The other slid into his hair, tugging gently.

Jason groaned softly, laying on his side and pulling me down next to him. I slowly let my hand trail down his chest, tracing the outline of his pec and down his abs. He breathed in deeply, squeezing my side a bit. “Ah~ d- doll~”

I grinned, kissing down his jaw. “That feel ok, pretty boy?~”

He shuddered, gasping; “Nguh… p- pretty?”

“Mhh-hm~ my pretty boy~” I purred softly, kissing his neck. I could feel his pulse racing under my lips as I slid my hand along his muscular chest.

His breath hitched as my fingers slid delicately over a bullet scar on his hip. “Ah … N- no one's ever called me pretty before…”

“Not to your face at least…” I purred softly, licking the soft spot where his jaw met his neck.

He gasped sharply, groaning softly. “O- ohhh fuck~ a- are you gonna eat me?”

“Mhhh, I might have to~” I gently nibbled on his Adam's apple, moaning softly; “you just look so tasty~ Is that ok?~”

He shuddered, pulling me so our chests pressed together. “Ahh~ fuck, ma~ … y- yeah~”

I chuckled softly, kissing down his throat to his collarbone. My fingers trailed across his chest, delighting in the way his muscles twitched and quivered under my touch. I watched his face as I kissed and licked more. He laid back and whimpered softly, squirming a bit as I explored his chest. I gently bit down on his nipple, reveling in the startled moan that poured from his lips.

“W- wait …” He covered his face, whining softly. I pulled back, gently stroking his side.

“Too much?”

He covered his eyes, taking a deep breath. “I … I want … Um …”

I nodded, stroking along his abs gently. “You can have anything you want, baby. You just say the word, and it's yours~”

He squeaked softly, peeking at me from between his fingers. “I wanna … make you feel good…”

I giggled softly, nodding. “How would you like to do that?”

He chewed on his lower lip, frowning a bit. “Um ... can … can I …”

He slowly pushed me to lay on my back, and I happily fell into the position he wanted. He leaned over me, kissing me gently, and I cupped his cheeks. His hands trailed down my sides to the hem of my shirt. “Can I … take this off?”

I nodded, shifting to help him slide it off. He moaned softly, fondling my soft tummy and kissing my chest. I groaned softly, gently tugging his hair. “Ah~ Jay~”

He moaned softly, kissing and nipping at my breasts. I whimpered and moaned, shivering. “Ohh fuck, Jason~”

He grinned, stroking my hips as he kissed down my chest. His lips finally met my tummy and he purred softly, squishing my soft curves between his hands as he pressed kisses all over me. I blushed bright red, shivering.

“Mhhh~ so soft~” he purred, pressing against me firmly.

I blushed bright red, shivering. “Ahh … y- you like that?”

“Love it~ you're so cozy and cuddly~ just wanna bury myself in your warmth and never come back out~ … love you so much, my sexy girl~”

I whimpered softly, blushing more. “Ahh~ I love you too~”

He sighed happily, kissing and nuzzling my tummy more, stroking my hips absentmindedly. I squirmed a bit under his touch, gently tugging his hair. We laid like that, his hands and lips exploring my chest and stomach, my hands in his hair, for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other’s touch.

After a while, my fingers slid down his neck and across his back. He shivered a bit as my ring finger slid against a divot in his skin; a small, oblong burn scar near his spine. Jason pulled back a bit, staring down at me with wide, far away eyes. His breath came in short, rapid pants, and I carefully moved my hands away.

“Jay? Baby, can you hear me?”

He shuddered, gasping softly, and slowly nodded.

“... Do you know where you are?”

“... 'm home … with you … we're in your room …” I nodded, carefully resting a hand against his. He fumbled to grasp my hand, squeezing tight. “... I … I can hear him …”

“... What do you hear, baby?”

He whined softly, his forehead falling against my chest. “... H- he's laughing … I … I can't …”

I frowned deeply, squeezing his hand firmly. “I'm here, baby. He can't hurt you anymore. I'm right here; you're in my home, you're safe…”

He gasped sharply, collapsing on top of me. “... Please …. Please, make it stop … I … I can't … I can't …”

I stroked the back of his head, holding him tight to my chest. “I'm here, Jason. Feel my heart beating?”

He grasped for me, crying softly, and slowly nodded. I took his hand, pressing it firmly to my chest, so he could feel my heart. “You are safe. You are here in my arms, and I won't let anything happen to you. I'm here. We're in my bedroom. It's almost dinner time. We're gonna order from that little Chinese restaurant on the corner. Nothing’s gonna harm you.”

He panted softly, slowly wrapping his arms around my waist. I held him tight, stroking his shoulders. “... Deep, slow breathes, baby. You can do it…”

Eventually, his breathing evened out a bit. “That's good. You're doing so well for me, baby~ … can you name five things you see?”

“... You. … Blanket … bookshelf … window… tree.”

I nodded. “Very good. Now four things you can touch?”

His hands slid across my back, trembling; “mhh … you … bed … pillow … my shirt.”

I nodded. “And now three things you can hear?”

“... Your voice … the heat kicking on … um …” he burrowed his face into my chest; “... I can't think of anything else…”

“Hmm … do you hear … the bird on the tree?” I pointed toward the window and he listened.

“... Yeah, ok, the bird…”

I nodded, kissing his forehead. “Very good. Now, how about two things you can smell?”

“... Your perfume.” He sighed happily, kissing above my heart. “... And … the laundry detergent on the blanket.”

I nodded, stroking his hair. “Well done, my love~ now something you can taste?”

He frowned, thinking. “... Um …” he looked up at me and slowly smiled, kissing me gently. “Mh~ your chapstick.”

I giggled softly, nodding. “Good one. You feeling a bit more stable now?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I'm stable. … I … I'm sorry, that was-”

“No, no sorries. You have nothing to apologize for.” I stroked his hair, kissing his forehead. “I’m sorry you got sucked back there like that.”

He snuggled against me, sighing softly. “... You didn't do anything wrong, doll. … I just … got stuck.”

I nodded, stroking his hair more. “I've got you, baby…”

He caressed my side, kissing my shoulder. “You take such good care'a me… I … I don't understand it.”

I held him close, “What do you mean, sweetie?”

“... I … I don't understand how you so effortlessly make space for my brokenness. … We were having fun, and then my past got in the way … And you aren't mad. … You see my sharp edges and accept them without even a moment's hesitation, like you're not afraid to be cut… I don't understand how you're so strong … You do it for Damian too, you know. … We're both so used to being people's projects. Just … things that need to be fixed. We're dangerous. We hurt those around us, like … ice in your lungs, and fire licking your heels, …. We are death made flesh …And you embrace us without reservation. … Don't you realize, there are monsters in our shadows? Don't you hear them howling, determined to consume everything in their path? … Your gentleness will make you their first target. The monsters will make puppets of us, they always do eventually, and they will feast on your flesh.... You are so clever, surely you know, if you don't flee, someday soon my monsters will eat us both alive...”

He sniffled softly, arms and legs entangled with mine, as if he was afraid I might agree and run screaming. I stroked his hair more, holding him close. “... You're not the only one with monsters, my love. … My monsters scream for blood; they cannot fathom how anyone who loves you could know what you've been through and just … let it be. … They want vengeance, and they make it sound so easy … I … I want to make you safe. I want to fight whatever darkness tries to sink its claws into you, … I want to make it bleed…”

He blinked slowly, pulling me closer. “... Y- you have to promise me you won't do anything stupid … I need you to be safe.”

I nodded, cupping his cheek. “I promise, nothing stupid. As long as you promise to always come home to me.”

He nodded, pressing desperate kisses to my lips. “Promise. Always gonna come home to you, princess~”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

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[songmingisthighs]

Maudit

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. vi - a fox to catch

cursed!jongho × reader

wc : 1.8 k

genre : mythology!au, smau

rating : mature; crude jokes and filthy language

tw: mentions of death (wanting to die naturally), mentions of attempted suicide

buy me coffee ?

so long i've been here, so long are the stories i've written. of what i gathered and lost, loneliness becomes me and pain refuse to depart from me. i've embraced that which ate me away so when you came along, i had no part of me left to give.

Jongho never really liked going into the woods. Well, he used to be okay with it because he had no choice. But the modernization of South Korean civilization had coddled him with a cool AC breeze and mosquito repellant. Jongho would very much rather doing his responsibilities indoors where he won't end up sweating through his outfit and appearing with red scratch marks around his neck and ear. So he harboured slight resentment against the Fox Keeper who INSIST they meet at the forest behind a temple on the other side of town. No matter how much Jongho insisted that he had seen the Keeper in cafes, the Keeper still wouldn't budge. Not even a tiny bit, not even to meet up at the temple itself.

Whilst cringing, Jongho stepped into the vicinity of the sacred tree and stared up at it, "Okay, hyung, come out now because I don't have a lot of time," he called out.

Knowing that the Fox Keeper is mischievous, Jongho let his eyes roam in anticipation of the guy showing up. The last time he let his guard down, the Fox Keeper led Jongho into a trap and only let him go eight hours later.

Thankfully, this time the Fox Keeper showed himself by peeking out of the back of the tree whilst standing on one of its large trunks. "Hey! There's my favourite cursed human!" He teased, jumping off the high trunk and landing safely on the ground, "Feels like it's been three years since I've last seen you!" Jongho rolled his eyes but stepped closer to him, "That's because I try to keep our meetings rare and short hyung." The Keeper snickered and patted Jongho on the shoulder, "Is that why you still refuse to call me by my name?" Jongho scoffed but smirked teasingly, "No, Yeonjun hyung, I just avoid using it too much in case you work like Beetlejuice." Yeonjun rolled his eyes and detached himself from Jongho in faux annoyance, "Okay, first of all, that man is a fashion icon what with combining black and white and purple and neon green together. Second, I have better things to do other than waiting for one of you to call me up and bother me."

"Is one of those things you do looking for the reincarnation of Ahyoung?" Jongho shot. Yeonjun sighed and shook his head, "You really are a no-bullshit type of man, huh? Can't you spare 15 minutes of chit-chat and catching up BEFORE you shoot straight to the point? I mean for fuck's sake, Jongho, we've known each other for three hundred years, I would imagine we'd see each other more often than this AND outside of necessities!" he complained. Jongho could feel his whole left cheek muscle twitching at the older man's words and through gritted teeth he pointed out, "Well, had we met at say a cafe, I would have DEFINITELY be willing to spare 15 minutes- heck, even half an hour to talk to you about nonsense before we get down to the point but nooooooo you just HAD to meet at this mosquito-infested serial-killer playground." "You do know that they put up a shrine for the Fox Keeper here right? They sort of pray to me for protection and stuff?" "And you do know that I just saw one of your foxes piss on one of your statues, right?" Jongho deadpanned.

Annoyed (at how Jongho was pointing out the truth), Yeonjun scoffed and started walking, signalling for Jongho to follow him along.

Now side by side, Jongho and Yeonjun started talking about the thing that had got Jongho on edge. "Well, I still can't sense anything," Yeonjun started, looking straight at the forest, "All I could sense was your curse and even then, nothing was pulling towards it. Do you still have the bead bracelet I gave you?" Jongho raised his left wrist to show that he was in fact wearing the item in question, "Has it ever changed colours?" "No, never and like you suggested, I've never even taken it off," Jongho sighed.

Yeonjun halted his steps momentarily to turn and put a hand on Jongho's shoulder, effectively also stopping him in his tracks, "You... You've been out and about to meet the potential person, right?" Jongho frowned and nodded slowly, "Yes? I've been out and about?" he was confused by the question. "No, no, no, no, not just out and about, but you've actually been trying to look for her right?" Then he stopped mid-sentence, "Or maybe it's not even a 'her' after all. No, no, no, no, no, what if that sorcerer pulled another stunt and stuck you with a 'him'?" At that, Jongho pushed Yeonjun who was in the middle of thinking a bit too harshly that he stumbled and almost fell down. "What the hell are you talking about!?" Staggering, Yeonjun stood back up and raised both of his hands, "Well, we've never considered this before but is it not a possibility? This is the same man who cursed you to roam the earth until god knows when for funsies just because you shut down his business!" Hearing that, Jongho paused to think if it was even possible because, in all honesty, he had never considered that and as much as he wanna say no, it seemed like something a cruel man would do to punish him. "I can see the wheels in your brain turning. I think if I get close enough, I can hear it and if we wait a bit more I think I can smell the smoke," Yeonjun teased which earned him a (hard) slap on the arm from Jongho but he just laughed it off.

Soon, the two resumed their walk and they did it in silence, just so they could take a moment from the chaos of their lives.

"I don't know how much longer of this I can take," Jongho opened up. "Take what?" Yeonjun asked, "This... Being cursed to live too long while everyone who had ever mattered to me died and I still have to sit in anticipation of meeting her again after all this time," Jongho sighed. Yeonjun pursed his lips in contemplation, "I mean, it's not like she's gonna remember anything, you know? Like yeah sure, you'll be the one bearing all the pain, but... Are you even ready to meet her and face whatever comes next?"

Jongho never really took into consideration what will come AFTER he finds the girl. He was so caught up with well, trying to catch up with times, that he never really considered what that would entail. Back then, during the first year or two of him dealing with being cursed, all he wanted to do was to immediately reverse the curse so he could... you know, die like a normal person. It came as such a surprise for him when he tried to stab himself with his sword during the darkest time of his life. It was after Ahyoung died and the reality came crashing down on him. Luckily, it was then that he met Hongjoong, the reaper who came to inform him that his soul was indefinitely chained to the earth and after a meltdown, Hongjoong (with the help of Yunho and Yeosang) brought the unconscious Jongho back to the library. That "nap" lasted two days and after that, Jongho felt slightly better.

"Was anyone ever ready to face anything?" Jongho asked, chuckling to himself as some sort of a way to hide his fear. Yeonjun smirked and nudged Jongho on the shoulder, "Yeah, I remember you on the cusp of modern civilization, holding onto your horse and carriage, stating that you'll never get into a death machine and now look at you and your ugly ass Hyundai Palisade." Jongho threw a glare at Yeonjun and punched him on his shoulder again, "It's a nice car and my assistant recommended it, you jerk," he huffed.

Yeonjun rubbed his arm whilst hissing to ease the pain of the impact from Jongho's fist but even as he did so, he decided to point out, "For someone who complained about his assistant trying to keep him up with technology, you sure do listen to her like A LOT. How's it going with her anyway? And by that, I do mean when can I meet her because so far, she's the only girl I can sense off of you." There was a hint of red on Jongho's cheeks at the mention of his assistant leaving traces on him but Jongho was quick enough to turn away completely from Yeonjun, "I'm less concerned about her shoving a rectangular fruit-named phone into my hands and more about the fact that you seem to not be able to stop sniffing me even when you don't need to," he muttered to himself. Knowing that he got him, Yeonjun snickered to himself but kept all the comment he could threw in just in case Jongho decide to throw another punch.

As another silenced period washed over them, both Yeonjun and Jongho calmed down until they reached the edge of the forest and the backdoor of the temple was merely a meter or two away.

Yeonjun put a hand out to stop Jongho and stepped in front of him, "Hey man, look, no matter what, I'm... Sorry that I don't have better news to tell you. I would if I could and I did everything I know from the time I worked with sorcerers. Frankly, at this point, the only two options are to expand our search to another continent or... Find the sorcerer and... I don't know, torture him into letting your soul go?"

Despite the bad news, Jongho couldn't help but crack up a bit at Yeonjun's attempt to comfort him. So he nodded and gratefully patted Yeonjun on the shoulder, "I get it hyung. It's been... What? 500 years? If it's not happening then, it's not happening now and I just have to..." A sudden weight appeared on Jongho's chest and as he exhaled, his breath shook, "I have to keep trying and keep searching. I'll try to expand my search or something but... Thanks," he smiled and before Yeonjun could comfort him more, Jongho stepped around him and walked back to the temple, "Say hi to your friend the moon bunny for me!" Jongho called out, grinning as he turned slightly to look at Yeonjun. Yeonjun scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Tell that to him yourself, he's waiting for that gaming rematch and you better set up something soon or else Soobin is just gonna bitch at me!" Yeonjun called back out.

As Jongho walked back to his modern car, memories flooded his head and he couldn't help but think about how such a long time has passed and compare his humble beginning and his current situation. Looking down at the phone in his hand, he saw the last text you sent to him about his schedule and he couldn't help but feel his fingers tingling and his chest burning. The grin on his face dropped and his face turned sullen.

Truly, truly he was tired.

network :

@cultofdionysus @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

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@dinossaurz @redzie02 @stayatinykatsy @tinyelfperson @allisonleannn @yukichan67 @phenomenalgirl9 @dawn-iscozy @aestheticsluut @krustycangrejo @teenyfinds @kirbrary @thedistractedwriter @gxlden-bxbyy @huachengsbestie01 @charreddonuts

@roronoas-wife

[izvmimi]

malevolent enterprise ch. 1

cw: ceo!au. sukuna and yuuji are siblings. drug use. header by @/cafekitsune! a/n: background to a series of oneshots. masterlist

Exactly two unexpected things occur exactly one week to the hour of Wasuke Itadori’s death - 1. Yuuji Itadori, second grandson from his only son Jin Itadori, inherits all of Itadori Enterprises and its subsidiaries and 2. Yuuji’s older brother and lifetime antagonist Sukuna formally changes his name to Ryomen, and establishes Ryomen Industries.

Yuuji, in moments, is saddled with the grand title of C.E.O., and Sukuna, if he didn’t have enough reasons to dislike his kind, caring younger brother, has finally added yet another one to the list. This part doesn’t particularly bother him, after all, even Yuuji has to admit, no matter how much he has tried to love his brother over the years, Sukuna is fundamentally a piece of shit. 

And that’s exactly why he’s the perfect choice for the job.

Yuuji sighs and takes another piece of sushi off of the left flank of the poor girl who’s been laid prone and nearly naked on the table for most of the evening. He’d ask her if her shift was coming to an end soon but even he had to admit it felt weird asking about the work conditions to a girl who was meant to be a prop at an event that was theoretically in his honor. The salmon is exactly the right temperature and feel in his mouth and he can’t ask for more. He offers her a thumbs up as he walks past her which has her somewhat confused, then makes his way back to the lounge chairs.

Sukuna by now has stopped schmoozing all the other industry leaders in the room and now contents himself with four giggling floozies in his lap, his practically blood-red eyes glowing in the neon club lighting as he smirks at him. Yuuji gives him an exasperated look but finds a seat far away alone. He’s actually not sure why he’s still here - the new personal assistant that was assigned to him is already sending emails from the interim chief that he still doesn’t understand and Sukuna’s already told half of the attendees he expects him to run Grandpa’s business into the ground. A few girls venture in his direction, one of which Yuuji has to admit is pretty enough to make his cheeks warm (if it’s not his last three beers finally kicking in) but Sukuna’s already whistled and called them over by the time the first girl opens her mouth to introduce herself.

“I’ve got plenty of arm space to spare!” he practically cackles, and the last girl, the pretty one, takes a last look at Yuuji before apologetically sauntering over to his brother for attention. Sukuna and another young CEO, who Sukuna cruelly trash-talked just less than a month ago, take shots off of another woman’s chest, and Sukuna finishes off the theatrics with a line of coke down her abdomen. 

Yuuji rolls his eyes, but before he can get up and finally convince himself to leave rather than tolerate his brother’s antics, another body slides into the booth next to him, bumping him on the shoulder.

“New CEO!” 

Indoor sunglasses cover the young man’s eyes and before Yuuji can smile and embrace him, Satoru Gojo has him practically in a headlock mussing up his hair. 

“Oi! Stop!” Yuuji hisses, embarrassed to be treated like a kid, especially in the presence of his older brother already trying to force him back into the shadows. Yuuji recollects himself, adjusting the lapel of his shirt but Satoru frowns.

“I’m shocked you made it,” Yuuji says. He’s delighted to see his family friend, just as odd and eccentric as Sukuna can be but with less of the dickish behavior.

Somewhat. 

"I mean hopping on my jet, cutting my vacation short-” Satoru stops and sighs, stretching out his long limbs as he leans deeper into the soft cushions, “but of course I’d show up to congratulate you.” Gojo sits up suddenly, leaning in, and Yuuji doesn’t ask himself how he can see through those. 

“So are you gonna compete with me now? Throw me out of the market?”

Yuuji grins. “I don’t think you’re touchable in all honesty, but even if you were,  I think we can both agree to be successful.”

Gojo is satisfied with this answer. Clinking his beer bottle on Yuuji’s forehead, a move that genuinely throws him off guard, Gojo downs the rest of the bottle then turns, winking at a girl in Sukuna’s court, and when she nearly rises, Sukuna gives him a practically glowing red glare. 

Gojo laughs, then turns back to Yuuji who snorts.

“I think there are enough girls to spare, Aniki,” Yuuji teases. He leans in, draping his arm over his senpai’s shoulder. “After all, I’m pretty sure Sukuna’s laywer friend is here, just waiting for you to get on her nerves.”

Gojo laughs. “She hates my guts but I know she wants me in hers.”

Yuuji sips on the beer he’d set aside, not bothering to make an additional comment, remembering the last time he mentioned the redhead to him, he’d spent nearly thirty minutes just talking about her tits. Despite this, the same man could easily be found in numerous news articles with a number of different women, so he couldn’t actually be sure of the depth of his interest, but Yuuji had the feeling that Gojo felt a little differently about her. 

A sideways glance makes it clear that Satoru is already scanning the room, to see if she’s still here amongst the throng of people. Yuuji watches Sukuna who seems to have chased away the extra floozies and now sits with one girl straddling him, his own hand suspiciously low down the curve of his ass, and the other licking and whispering into his ear, something that looks vaguely doglike. Yuuji frowns and looks away, but Gojo has already risen, his own instincts prompting him to find someone to go home with. 

But before he can go off and get really wasted, Yuuji realizes he has a serious question for the more experienced corporate bigwig before he calls it a night.

“Aniki.”

Gojo’s head turns to him, a drunken half-smile on his face.

“Ne?”

“It’s a work question,” Yuuji answers with a tinge of discomfort. Asking for help is embarrassing at this stage, but Gojo is the only one who doesn’t judge him, rather helps even if it’s in a way that seems ridiculous, like some kind of flippant genius.

Gojo frowns.

“Fine, but you have to promise to have a good time.” 

With that, Gojo starts to sway with the music, and with the great length of his body and limbs, dressed in all black from head to toe, Yuuji is briefly reminded of bamboo gently swaying in the wind. He stifles a laugh before rendering himself serious again. 

“You’ll call me a dumbass but I have a new vacancy that’s sort of high up and I’m trying to figure out who to hire.”

The lenses obscuring Gojo’s eyes don’t help Yuuji gauge his thoughts but Gojo is still dancing so Yuuji continues talking.

“I want someone from the outside. Someone who didn’t know my grandpa or Sukuna. Any recommendations where I should start looking?”

Gojo does a full body roll, then stops. 

“I’ll send you an application tomorrow. Now loosen the fuck up.”

Yuuji blinks, then starts the two-step of a man who is under too much stress but not drunk enough.

“Okay.”

[thesillygoofyjester]

Angel dust was not having a good day.  

He was locked in his dressing room, with a furious Valentino,  

“-DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH YOUVE COST ME? YOU’RE LUCKY I DONT KILL YOU FOR THIS!” 

The reason for Valentinos rage? Angel had fucked up and pissed off an important business partner Val had been working with, the slimy shark demon had stormed out and lost Val's deal 

Val grabbed his hair roughly and pulled his face up to look at him.  

“you’re going to pay for this one Angel dust”  

His voice was low, with sharp rage hidden right in front of his eyes, his glowing red-hot eyes and sharp teeth. 

-SMACK-! 

Valentino hit him, hard, he fell to the ground, he tried to hold himself up with his elbows, but his arms shook, and his cheek stung. He felt a single hot tear drop into his fur, burning him like a brand, Valentino loomed over him, whispering darkly 

“Once I'm done with you, you're going to go out there, and earn back every dollar you lost me, I don't care how many greasy truckers you have to fuck, or how long it takes, do you understand-” 

“VAL!” 

Valentinos eyes narrowed as his head shot to the doorway, Angel slowly looked over- Vox. 

The media demon himself was standing in the doorway of his dressing room, posture tense, arms crossed, eyes narrow, and cold 

“I'm a little busy vox” Val ground out, a growl deep in his throat 

“What the FUCK Val! I've been looking for you everywhere!” Vox stalked into his room, glaring at Val, blind to angel dust on the floor, staring at two of the most powerful overlords in hell, having an argument in his room. 

he sucked in a tight breath, making himself as small as possible and backing away, crawling backwards on the floor, until Valentino swiftly moved his boot, digging the heel into his hand, subtle, but a clear message “don't move unless I tell you to” 

“DID YOU SPEND THIS?” vox shoved a receipt in Vals face, electricity buzzing between his antenna “yeah, so? I splurged a bit, what's the problem?” Val shrugged it off 

Vox's hackles raised, and his voice glitched “G-G-GODAMNIT VAL WEVE BEEN OVER THIS, you can't spend this kind of money, from our bank account, without telling ME-” 

-SMACK-! 

Angels un-swollen eye widened, as he stared at Vals raised hand, and vox’s cracked screen 

Val had just hit vox. It was almost laughable, if it hadn't been so terrifying, vox, the tv demon, the media overlord, and even more terrifying, he hadn't fought back, he had just taken it? 

Vox looked up at Val through fingers covering his cracked screen “Val-” 

-SMACK-! 

-SMACK-! 

“VAL!” vox had caught Vals wrist, the rings in his eye pulsing. Val glared at him, “You ungrateful-!”  

“Oh, so I'm the ungrateful one?”  

Vals eyes widened, as Vox's screen cracked itself into a grin “do you need a reminder of why you’re here?” vox grabbed vials face with his other hand, squeezing until his claws pierced skin as Valentino tried to pull away 

“have you forgotten that I made you? You'd be N-N-NOTHING without me!” 

“I'm sorry voxxy, i-i-” vox slammed Valentino into the floor, pinkish blood pooling around him 

“don't call me t-that, I have put up with your SHIT, for too long” vox planted his boot on Vals chest, pressing on it 

“I have let you hit me, c-c-rack my screen, scream at m-me, waste my money on your ch-cheap w-w-whores, and I have been loyal to you the whole GOD-D-DAMNED TIME” 

Angel looked down and saw the blood getting on his hands and in his fur, he crawled back quickly and silently, before freezing up as Vals eyes shot to him 

Vox put even more pressure on Vals chest with his boot, before bending down to grab Vals face, and forcing him to look into vox’s hypnotic eye, “I l-loved you once Val, you ruined me, I'm s-s-sorry for ever being foolish enough to fall for y-you”  

Val wheezed, voice weak, “f-fuck you... vox” 

Vox pushed his heel through Vals chest, the sound of bones crunching under his boot echoing through the room, he silently lifted his foot, and angel caught a glimpse of the iconic silver-white glow that came from angelic steel. Vox had planned this. 

Vox stepped away from the corpse, looking around the room, angel froze as vox’s eyes caught his 

“... you weren't supposed to be here” is all vox said, looking mildly surprised. 

Angel tried to let out a laugh, but it just came out as a dry sob “it is my dressing room after all” 

Vox stepped toward him, and angel shrunk back, vox paused, before offering his hand, angel delicately took it, hand trembling. Vox grabbed it, and pulled angel up, angel swayed on his feet, vision blurring and dancing in front of him. 

Vox looked down at angels blood-matted fur, and his own blood stained shoes, “let's get you cleaned up, hmm?” Angel nodded, dizzy, and relaxed by Vox’s suddenly calming voice 

Vox lifted up the much slimmer demon into his arms and carried him bridal style down the hall, he was lucky it was night, and most of his employees had already gone home. When he finally got to the penthouse, he felt angel stiffen in his arms, but instead of heading to the bedroom, like angel expected him to, he headed straight for the bathroom.  

Upon entering he gently placed angel on the floor, angel swayed for a moment before regaining his balance and turned to face the tv-faced demon 

Vox had already turned away from him “clean yourself up, and feel free to use whatever's in the shower, I'll get you something...” he eyed the messy, revealing, outfit that angel was wearing “...decent, to wear” And with that, he shut the door behind him, leaving angel alone with his thoughts 

The water was still hot, one of the perks of being rich, angel supposed, it ran down his body, soaking his fur as the pink tinged blood ran down into the drain. Valentinos blood  

He supposed he must've still been in shock, because he was crying, crying because Val was dead. Isn't this what he had wanted? Hadn't he been praying for Vals death? Shouldn't he be over joyed right now? So why did his heart ache? 

Vox... why had he killed Val? Everyone knew that their relationship was the most brutal on-again off-again in all of hell, but had it really gotten enough to the point that vox felt the need to kill him? Remember? A small voice in the back of his head whispered Val HIT vox. He broke his screen, he was being abused the voice whispered just like you 

Except vox wasn't like him, because vox had the power and resources to get out, he had just taken it, done whatever Val wanted him to, because Val owned his soul – his soul. Was he still under contract? Was he going to lose his job? Oh god, how was he going to get his fix? He needed his job! His breath started speeding up, his chest rising and falling as he gasped, his eyes flitting wildly around the room 

What if vox killed him for seeing Vals death, what if he-! 

“ANGEL DUST!” he flinched, quickly responding “y-yeah?” he heard vox sigh outside the door “thank Satan... I was starting to think you had drowned yourself!” vox let out an uncomfortable chuckle, before he heard a faint shuffling, as though someone was placing something right outside 

“there's clothes outside for when you're done, I-... take as long as you need” angel waited until he heard the tell-tale sign of someone walking away before turning of the shower and stepping out. Opening the door just a crack to make sure no one was outside, he took the neatly folded towel and clothes and held them close to his chest. 

Towel first, he quickly rubbed his fur dry with what may have been the softest towel he had ever touched. Next, the clothes, they were fairly simple, a pair of navy sweatpants, and a neon teal t-shirt emblazoned with the bright red vox-tec logo. 

After double and triple checking to make sure he looked good, he stepped out of the bathroom into the dimly lit apartment, “Mista Vox!? Ya here?!” a door shrouded in shadows opened, and there stood vox, in a clean version of the suit he had been wearing before, no longer stained with blood, the other new thing about him, was his screen, it was no longer shattered, instead, all that remained was a small crack in the corner. 

“you’re out, good.” vox walked towards him, his movements, calm and practiced, as if he hadn't just murdered his boyfriend. Angel just nervously fidgeted with his hands, watching vox until he arrived at the door, and opened it. “Well? You coming?” vox asked, a slight teasing lilt in his voice. Angel felt his shoulders relax marginally, he didn't want thanks for saving angel. Angel gave a pained smile  

“Y-yeah...” 

As they walked into the elevator, angel stood awkwardly next to vox, who seemed wholly uninterested in the entire ordeal, this vox was nothing like the friendly charismatic one you saw on tv, or the bitter, vengeful, short tempered one he saw in the dressing room, this one seemed cold, and tense, and... anxious? 

“Why’d you do it?” the words left his lips before he could stop them, vox turned to him, raising one eyebrow. “I have no idea what you’re talking about” 

“Valentino? You kill-” vox’s hand shot over his mouth “Valentino, hasn’t been seen, in 2 hours, hardly a reason to say he’s dead” his face went cold and stoic “unless you want to be the one who killed him” 

Angel dust wasn’t stupid enough to not get the barely concealed threat “stop talking unless you want to be framed” he looked down at his feet, “Sorry Mista vox” 

Vox looked down as well, “but I suppose if someone was to kill him, it might’ve been because they realized he was growing too powerful, perhaps they thought him a threat to their power... or perhaps they were just done with taking his shit.” 

Angels eyes widened, he hadn’t expected vox to actually tell him anything, he opened his mouth to say something, but in that moment, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened in front of them, he sighed as vox strode out in front of him, he quickly followed as vox stalked through the halls of the studio. 

After a solid 10 minutes of walking, they arrived at a small side door, vox opened it and held it for angel dust, he stepped through the door, to see a sleek navy limousine, a small, heterochronic, aquatic demon quickly opened the door for him and vox, before getting in the driver's seat. Vox looked at him, raising an eye brow 

-oh 

“The hazbin hotel please?” 

The demon looked at vox, who nodded, the limo pulled out, and peeled off down the street 

Angel took this as an opportunity to see the limo, it was simple, a black interior, with cyan led stripes down the sides, none of the fluff or haze that Valentinos limo had. At least the seats were comfortable. Angel felt his eyelids droop, surely vox wouldn't mind if he rested his eyes for a minute, right? Right... 

Vox was incredibly tired. Today had been one of the most exhausting days of his life, between having 4 separate interview's, today was also the day he had decided to act out his plan, and murder Val. But one variable he hadn’t accounted for was Angel dust being there. The lanky spider knew what he had done, and he shouldn’t be risking him even being alive. 

But when he looked in the demons terrified eyes, his swollen cheek, and his fur stained with blood... he saw himself 

Which of course was how he ended up with the spider in question asleep on him He turned to look at angel dust, sleeping so... well certainly not peacefully. He was... shivering? Trembling? Both? He heard the demons breath quicken as he thrashed. “n-no please I'm sorry, I won't do it again please stop, Valentino!”  

Vox sucked in a breath at the vulnerable display, the logical side of his brain said it wasn’t his problem, but looking at this soul, tormented by the same demons he was, he couldn't help but feel a bit of pity. 

 Sighing, and knowing he was probably going to regret this, he shrugged off his suit jacket and laid it over him, his fingers lingering on angels back, he gently pressed his hand flush to the demons back, softly rubbing it until he felt the spider under him begin to relax, he ceased his circular movements, but let his hand rest on angels back, he sighed looking out the window at the hotel on the tall hill in front of them 

Charlie was freaking out, angel dust had been out for 4 hours past curfew, and hadn’t texted them once, everyone in the hotel (sans Alastor) had tried calling and texting him, to no avail 

“w-what if has dead! What if he got kidnapped! What if!” “Babe.” Charlie turned to her girlfriend, Vaggie, who was gently holding her by the shoulders “angels an adult, he can handle himself” Vaggie smiled comfortingly, but it did little to sooth Charlies nerves  

“But what if he's hurt!?” Charlie asked, desperation tinging her voice 

“Then that's on him kid” husker tiredly interjected “he aint your responsibility” 

“But-! wait what's that?” Charlie pulled herself away from Vaggie and went to go look out the window, a sleek navy limo was pulling up the driveway, far too nice for this side of hell 

Charlie stepped outside, Vaggie and husk behind her, Alastor was already outside, his trademark grin was tight, and his eyes were narrow  

“al... What's going on?” Alastor's grin sharpened “it appears our arachnid friend has caught the attention of another overlord!” 

At that moment, the car door opened and Vox, leader of the Vee’s, media overlord and tv demon, Stepped out. But he wasn’t the only one, because in his arms, unconscious, was angel dust. 

Vaggie lunged forward, spear pointed straight for vox’s throat, directly under his tv “what are you doing here” she growled 

He lifted his head, looking rather uninterested in her threat “well I was trying to return this to you” he said, motioning to angel dust, “but since you clearly don't want him ill just...” he stepped away, a sly grin on his face 

“you’d be smart to hand angel dust over” Alastor ground out, his teeth grinding together, his smile tense and forced.  

Vox's smile relaxed just a fraction, and he extended angel dust out to Alastor, who tried to pick up the delicate spider demon, but Angel simply curled into vox, holding him tightly, and whispered a single word to him

“stay”

vox whispered back “I can’t” and angels whisper was so quiet he almost missed it “please” 

So vox did 

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: (Duo POV) After a hunt gone wrong Dean falls sick. Now on his death bed Sam and Y/N do whatever it takes to save him from the void that is death, even if that means running into trouble.

Warnings: Cannon violence, Ansgt, hospitals, talk about dying and death, illness, heart issues, talk of past deaths, grief, Dean may be OOC or at least his inner thoughts but let me know, Historical and religious talk of the Celts and Christianity if anything is incorrect/ inaccurate pls tell me so I may fix it, cursing

A/N: Thank you so much for 100 followers, never thought this series would get so much love!

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn , @crazyunsexycool

Word Count: 15,139

Faith

(Master list, Prev. Ch, Next Ch)

I hate hospitals.

I hate hospitals, especially when it is someone you care about on the medical bed.

I hate hospitals, especially when you can’t be in the room with the person; when you have to sit in the waiting room with nothing but pure anxiety coursing through your veins, and everyone around you is in the same position.

At least Sam is with him, that must make both of them feel better. But it doesn't make me feel as better as it should, my leg bounces rapidly no distraction working for me. I tried reading and listening to music on my stupid iPod, but neither worked- not when my mind was going a hundred miles a minute on all the worst possibilities.

It wasn't meant to be a difficult hunt, going after a rawhead. Yet it all went wrong far too quickly, Dean yelled for Sam and I to get the children out of the basement while he stayed behind fighting the thing. It would be a single shot with a taser, easy to mess up on, truthfully, which is why I had given mine up for him to have as an extra one before I carried a young boy out. It was all wrong. So so wrong. He shot the thing but they both happened to be standing in a small puddle of water, and water conducts stupid electricity and he got hurt too.

Sam had found him. We called for an ambulance and rushed him to the hospital, he was unconscious the whole time.

Sam had to talk to the receptionist for insurance and then the cops explaining what happened and then a doctor. But they wanted to talk privately and he wanted to see Dean alone first. Which only increased my anxiety, Sam wouldn’t have done that unless something was horribly wrong. Something was horribly wrong. I felt like I was going to vomit or shake myself out of existence, maybe the latter would be better. Everyone around me wasn't much better, looking the same shade of nervousness. Some were crying, pacing, or on the phone talking rapidly. Hospitals were a horribly depressing place.

I’m unsure how much time passes, minutes, hours, an eternity? Sam walks towards me, tears in his eyes some clearly having spilled over by the redness of his cheeks. No. No. No.

I stand up walking to him almost without noticing as if it was all just natural, tears fill my own eyes and I can feel my hands shaking. No. No. He wouldn't be crying if–

“Sam?” I said weakly, my voice wobbling horribly. I swallow down a knot in my throat, this couldn't be happening. No.

He drops his head down, his hair covering his face and likely more tears that spilled over. “Sam,” I say again my voice breaking. I couldn't lose someone else, couldn't lose anyone else. He finally lifts his head, barely being able to hold eye contact. He seems to wobble and all at once he falls into me, I hold him, his head dropping awkwardly into my neck, from the height difference, broken sobs leaving his mouth. He hugs me tightly, grasping desperately to the back of my shirt. Something is horribly wrong. I blink back my tears, I had to be strong for Sammy. This was his brother, I might have lost both my parents but I couldn't imagine how it would feel to lose my brother.

My neck grows damp but I ignore it. I hold the back of his head, holding him, no comforting words forming in my mind. “Sam” I breathe. I felt like I was going insane. He pulls himself away, keeping me in arm's distance. His face is red and blotchy from crying, and his hair is a mess. “Please” I begged one last time, my voice quivering.

He sniffles hard, but I do not expect him to be strong, “He has a month, at best” his voice is coarse and shaky but the words feel like they came out in slow motion. Everything freezes, turning into a buzz of white noise. I can feel tears spill down my cheeks but I can’t move. I can’t. No. He can’t be dying. No. No. He wasn’t allowed to. The world seemed to shatter, no, maybe that was my heart. I can feel it beating in my ears, everything else fading away. His mouth moves, he is saying something else but I cannot hear him over the sterile noise of the world crumbling. I don't understand. My throat is so tight I feel like I might just break right there. My knees feel weak and the floor seems closer than before.

Sam pulls me into him, holding me tightly once again, his hands cradling my head as a choked sob leaves my lips. Tears pour down my eyes, he promised. All those months ago he promised he wouldn’t leave me, it was a stupid and fruitless promise but I believed it.

He couldn’t die. He can’t, he can’t die. No one else. Not again.

All too soon Sam pulls back, his arms being the only thing that seems to be holding me up. I can barely make out his features behind my own teary eyes. “He wanted me to come get you, ‘wouldn’t talk without you there” he croaks. A whole new sob breaks through my lips, I wasn't strong enough for this. I went through this twice, I could not take another. Tear after tear passes down my face, my cheeks stiff with it. I shake my head, this can’t be happening again, but even so, I let him pull me down the halls to his room trying my best to blink away my never-ending tears. But it was useless, not when it felt like I was being torn in two.

I stopped at the threshold of the doorway, he looked so weak, he was so pale and he had dark circles under his eyes that were not there hours before. An IV sticks out of his arm along with various machines around him, including an EKG. New tears fall over the rim of my eyes and I have to force my hand to clasp my mouth to hide another sob. Sam enters the room, his face hard and rid of any of the emotions he showed just moments ago. How could he do that?

Dean’s eyes are focused on the TV, but even from where I was partially hiding I could see his green eyes had grown dull, “Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible” he jokes but he sounded weak too, his voice rid of its usual playful tone and familiar gruffness. Sam shakes his head and sighs, his ability to not break down in front of his brother was impressive to the point of it being scary, “I talked to your doctor.” But Dean continues to ignore anything that wasn’t that stupid TV playing commercials, “That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down” he responds instead. I want to laugh and ask him what the cute laundry bear ever did to him but I could not find it within me to be humorous, “Dean” I plead weakly my voice betraying me with its cracking. That gets his attention.

His eyes snapped up to where I stood, leaning against the doorframe to prevent myself from crumbling to the floor. His face immediately fills with worry, his eyes softening which is ironic considering who’s in the hospital bed. Without looking away from me he turned off the TV, I could tell he was thinking and worrying over something as he stared at me but I could not look at him without new tears falling. “Yeah. All right, well, ‘looks like you're gonna leave town without me” he finally says, my eyes snap back to him but he has already turned his attention to his brother. “What the hell are you talking about?” I step into the room, my sadness mixing too closely with frustration over his stupid declaration. “We are not gonna leave you here” Sam adds in sternly. “Hey, you better take care of that car” he points at Sam, any hint of a joke void from his voice, “Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass.”

My eyebrows scrunched together, “what's wrong with you?” I accuse, “How are you just accepting this? You are young and have so much life ahead of you” For each word that passed my lips tears followed, my resolve too thin to exist. “You’re meant to grow old, and…and yell at kids to get off your lawn as you work on Baby and maybe other cars with a pet at your side and a lovely home. You’re meant to annoy your brother and me with stupid calls and the same old rock music.” I swallow roughly, ignoring the subtle shock on his face, “It’ll be beautiful and wonderful and we will all be there to watch it happen because you have to live.” My chest heaves, and I’m surprised I have any more tears to give. Life was too cruel before to allow me the opportunity to beg someone to stay as if that feat alone was enough to keep someone alive.

Silence envelopes the room, his eyes are wide and his lips are slightly agape. I don’t believe in God, but I would get on my knees right now and beg and plead and do anything he ever wanted if it meant Dean living. He sighs after what feels like forever, “Look, what can I say, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story.” I don’t understand how he could just dwindle his life down to bad luck and a wrong straw. Tears well in my eyes and I have the urge to smack some sense into him. “Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options” Sam insists, his voice breaking slightly. “What options?” Dean asks, “Yeah, burial or cremation?” he pauses for a moment his “joke” not landing, “And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. How many people will I have to lose until it's enough to feed the glutenous wrath of death? First, it was my mother growing sick and dying, neither my brother nor I was allowed to see her in such a state not even to say goodbye. Then my Dad, who grew reckless in the wake of his only love's death, the coldness about him we had heard about only in stories returning to consume him completely until he drove himself into the ground. I always thought I was most like my mother, but now in the wake of this maybe I am my father's daughter.

I wipe away my tears roughly before clenching my hands, needing my nails to dig into my palms to ground me. “Let me try and heal you,” I say as firmly as my voice will allow. I've never done such a thing on a serious scale, it never got to the point where I felt desperate enough to toe the line of my own morals. But this, for him I would and I would not stay awake at night contemplating my selfishness.

Dean’s POV

Her face was red from crying, and her e/c eyes were filled with deep sadness. She looked shattered, and even so, she was beautiful.

I know I wasn’t being fair to her or Sam. But I always knew I’d die on a hunt, I long accepted it so her big glossy eyes would do nothing to change that fact. Even if it broke her, both of them, which I knew I was already doing. But I also know that sugar-coated truths would only hurt them more, I wasn’t going to allow them to get hopeful not when it would ruin them.

“Please?” she pleads quietly. My resolve breaks, my heart lurches as if it was trying to get closer to her and I didn’t think it had anything to do with the heart attack.

This was for the better, if they saw nothing would work early on they’d hopefully accept my death quicker. Plus I knew she’d stay up every night wondering what more she could have done for me, she’d obsess over it until it broke her all over again. I give her a sharp nod not trusting my voice, her eyes seem to light up a little, and that enough was all the excuse I needed.

She steps closer to my bed, careful not to trip over the wires connecting to me. She got close enough where I could smell her perfume, something sweet and flowery, and undeniably her, I felt warmer just from her closeness. She swallows roughly, “It works better if I can touch you…without the barrier of clothes.” Under any other circumstance I would most likely be flustered by her shy request, I mean this is what I’ve always wanted– to have her. But time was not on my side and I’d never get a chance to tell her, whenever it was I planned on doing so– to do so now with only a week to live would be too cruel. If she didn't like me back I’d die at least knowing and maybe I’d die with a broken heart or whatever crap people complain about. But if she did like me, which Sam insists she does, then a week wouldn't be long enough.

I lift the scratchy hospital shirt, hoping neither saw how much energy the simple action took. She looked nervous as she stared at my bare chest but I could see the hard look of determination in her eyes, she needed this. Carefully she places her hands on the center of my chest, her hands freezing as I suspected they would be but I don't cower from her gentle touch I lean into it further. I bask in it, small sparks igniting where she touched and it had nothing to do with her abilities. She looks up at me, watching my face for any warnings as her own e/c eyes turn to purple and pure warmth extends from her palm seeping into my skin. Maybe I should have been scared, but she was looking at me so gently and she's so beautiful that she must be an angel, and I'm only half the man she deserves.

I suck in a deep breath, clarity hitting me like an arrow, the grogginess and pain I felt melting into a puddle and being replaced with her. It felt like she was cradling my heart, caressing it gently like she would my face, her kindness and love seeping into the vessel, and truthfully I don't ever want it back. She could have my heart. She could have every part of me, and I'd never ask for it back. It's hers. I'm hers. My mouth fell agape, her hair fell onto her face, and I could feel it in my bones. I could feel the tension leave my shoulders and it was like everything I'd been carrying was lifted away. I don't care if she was healing me or not, I want her hands on me, I want to feel her. Just her. She was the sun and I was a fool begging to be closer, even if it burned, even if it was impossible.

Her hands begin to shake violently, but she pushes on, she holds on to me. Her fingers look like they want to curl and dig into my skin and it's clear she's fighting against the instinct, she doesn't want to hurt me not that I would mind any marks she printed into my skin. She lets her head hang, closing her eyes, “Oh fuck” she whines quietly and I have to desperately keep my mind clean. ‘Not the time to have those thoughts or acknowledge how hot that was. I lift a hand pushing her hair out of her face and behind her ear, keeping my hand there to hold her. Again I have to force away any ideas of what noises I could get her to make in a similar position. She looks up at me from her lashes as she bites down on her bottom lip hard, and I wonder how much longer I can keep my mind clean.

Suddenly deep crimson drips down her upper lip, and she begins to shake more. “Wait, wait Y/N” I breathe, looking from her over to Sam with concern. He pulls her off of me, she looks drained and paler than I know I am. She wipes at her nose, the blood has seemingly stopped, but she still shakes and wobbles. Sam pushes her down onto a nearby seat and I pull down my shirt, “How do you feel?” he asks me. “Peachy” I respond, smirking. He rolls his eyes, “I’m being serious. Did it work?”

“I feel better, not as weak” I answer truthfully. She nodded her head, her voice quieter than moments before, “Call for a nurse we should see if anything physically changed.”

“What about you? What was all that?” I ask. She shrugs, “‘Never really done it on a scale like this before, but it takes a lot out of you.”

Your POV

The doctor finally comes back, sifting through the papers on his clipboard, he looks shocked and confused which I hope is for the better because being lightheaded and on the verge of passing out would be worth it. “‘Looks like there has been some improvement, which would explain why you feel better,” he says, the room growing quiet with hope, “The difference is slight but well enough to know it wasn't a fluke” he looks up, “But I’d say it wasn't enough to change the outcome, I’m sorry.” Somehow the second time was worse. Hope was worse. “Thank you, Doctor” Sam replies sadly, and with a nod, the doctor leaves but does not take our sorrow with him.

“I can keep trying. Eventually, it will add up, and the more I do it the longer I’d be able to go” I offer, desperation clear on my tongue that it's almost embarrassing. “We can keep trying that but we should look at other options too” Sam adds. I nod my head vigorously in agreement. “You shouldn't get your hopes up, I’ve already accepted I’m gonna die you should too” Dean responds instead.

“Not happenin’” Sam retorts.

After we used up all our visiting hours we headed to the library, skipping out on eating to research for hours on both supernatural and not– just anything related to heart conditions and healing. I didn't ask why Sam didn't stay with his brother, he was family so he didn't have to follow visitation hours but I also figured he would rather spend his time trying to find a solution. Currently, Sam went the more “normal” route, pulling and printing articles on heart surgeries and other doctor stuff while calling several people. At the same time, I delved into the dark that is the unnatural.

Sam left a while ago, heading back to the motel with all his articles. I insisted on staying behind to “look for more,” in reality, I was going to make a call. The library closed in less than an hour and I already researched several Gods associated with healing, the side of my hand had turned dark with the ink stains. Though it was unsuccessful it was helpful for two reasons; one I at least looked, meaning it was one more thing I could check off, and two it pushed me to make a call I wasn't sure I was ready for.

What I needed was to be home, to look through many books on mythology and witchcraft, there I would find something but that was halfway across the country and each day that passed would be a day wasted. And teleporting books here wouldn't be helpful when there were so many of them and I wasn't sure where I would even begin.

I stare at my phone on the table, this shouldn't be a big deal. I call her all the time, well not as of late which I already got yelled at for. No, none of that mattered. She could lecture me a hundred times or resent me for months. I needed to help Dean. I swiftly pick up my phone, scrolling down to her contact, I don't hesitate to hit “call”, I’ve already hesitated too many times today.

The phone rings three times before she picks up, “Adeline” I start my voice already cracking with emotion. I can almost hear her jump to her feet, “Y/N?! What happened? Where are you? Are you safe? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I did not think I had any more tears left but was proven wrong when another tear slipped down my cheek, “Dean he’s…” I couldn’t say it, couldn't make it more real than it already was. I swallow roughly, trying to cram down my emotions for the time being, I’ve cried enough today, “Dean he’s dying, and I don't know–” a strangled sob leaves my lips and I have to force myself together resting my head on my hand for support, “I don't know what to do” I finished weakly. I hear her suck in a deep breath and it only makes me feel worse, “I-I want help…I need help,” I add, “I tried healing him, the doctor said the effect was minor but I’m gonna keep doing it, even if it takes a lot out of me.”

She exhales, “I’m really sorry Y/N”. I shake my head even though I know she can't see me. I ignored her comment, there was nothing to be sorry for because he was going to be alright, “Do you have any ideas? Maybe I’m doing something wrong or could be doing it better?”

She goes quiet again and it is hard to hold on to hope, “please,” I say quietly hoping she can hear me. She clears her throat, her voice cold and serious, “I’d try some herbal tea, one with healing properties any one of it will help or at least make him more comfortable.” I hum picking up my pen again, writing ‘herbal tea’ on my arm, I didn’t want to risk forgetting.

She sighs again, but it isn’t disappointed or even exhausted, “Don’t…don’t get your hopes up.” I shake my head vigorously again, “I’m not listening to this. I called for help cause you’re the only person I can think of who would know even a wisp of this. I’m desperate for help, not a lecture.” I know I was being cruel, ‘could hear it. She wasn’t trying to hurt me. “No, Y/N please listen. This isn’t an easy task, honestly, I’d like to say it’s impossible but I don’t want you to hang up on me. This doesn't come without great sacrifice.”

“And what if I’m okay with that?” I snap back, “I’m willing to sacrifice.”

“This is different,” she spits a hint of anger on her tongue, “I don’t mean just going against everything you believe in or against your mother's words. I mean making deals with demons, where you could lose your soul or your life or what makes you whole or maybe even worse.” I go quiet. I know she’s right, she always is. But I know my answer, I know what I’m willing to do, “I said I’m willing to make sacrifices.”

“Are you?” she counters. And without hesitation, I answer, “I love him.” I could tell she was getting frustrated with me, for not listening to her warning or taking her seriously even though I was. Of course, I know this is dark and messy territory, but that did not concern me. I can hear her swallow, her voice turning hard again, “What you would need to do would be more than love him.”

“Would it?” I counter.

“Yes,” she replies sternly, “And I won’t help you with that.” It was hard to be mad at her, she was just watching out for me trying to protect me. That was her job after all. But I wanted so desperately for him to be okay, he had to be. “Whether you help me or not, I will do everything in my power to fix this. He won't die.”

“I know you will. That’s what scares me.”

My eyebrows furrow, “I don’t understand.”

“I hope you never will,” she huffs out a breath, “I don’t want you to regret anything.” I couldn't vocalize it, did not even know how to make her understand what I felt–that even if I lost him now if I never saw him again. If I sat on his grave weeping for the man I loved with new flowers in my hand each day and each year. If I never got to hold his hand again. If I never got to see him smile again– that cocky smile. Even if I never got to tell him that I loved him…even then, I would never regret knowing him. Never regret the first time we met and never, never regret loving him. But I don’t say that, instead settling for, “I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

She turns serious once more, determined even, “You won’t. I’m on my way to your place now, I’ll go through your books, and I’ll call you back the second I find something.” She may not agree with my decisions all the time, and might even be upset that we don’t talk as much anymore but at the end of the day we’re best friends–more than that really, “Thank you, Adeline.”

“Of course, now don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,” she laughs lightly, “I love you, talk to you later.” I smile for the first time in hours, “I love you too, be safe.”

I let myself into the motel room. Sam doesn’t look up from his place on the bed, papers surround him, some in the garbage which I assume were ones that won't work out. I make my way to the small table in the corner of the room, avoiding looking at where Dean slept the night before. I take out my spellbook, my small journal, and my laptop. My eyes were killing me, most likely from crying so much before.

The next few days would follow a similar pattern, Sam would fall asleep but never for very long before getting coffee and a quick bite to eat before continuing his search. And I spent the nights awake, sleep could not find me at the edge of the void. At some point crumbled pieces of paper surrounded me and I felt like a college student again, I didn't want to do anything but look for an answer. Adeline called once that first night, but it didn't wind up leading anywhere.

The second morning I prepared tea for Dean, arriving at the hospital with the steaming cup and food that wasn't from the hospital. He looked happy to see me and complained about how bored he was there. He looked horrible, and it hurt my chest to see him like that so I just nodded to what he said. He drank the tea with nearly no complaint but instead curiosity, I explained I had boiled Sun water, before making homemade ginger tea adding cinnamon sticks, chamomile, and honey for taste. He asked me to explain to him why I chose each one, though I wasn't sure he truly cared and just wanted to hear me speak since he was relentless with his questions. I healed him again and laid with him when he asked. Then the rest of the while we talked as I did research.

Somehow being there, and watching him worsen was worse than not being there at all. I think I understand now why we weren't allowed to be there when my mom died. I would have rathered someone just stabbed me in the heart over and over then see his eyes grow duller. I healed him again before I was kicked out.

I felt hopeless. I wasn't going to give up but I felt hopeless. It was like I wasn't myself but watching myself go through the motions.

The second night wasn't much better. I slept for a couple of hours only to wake up crying. I didn't try to sleep after that. I prayed to God that night. I hadn't done that in years. I hadn't begged him for mercy since my mother died. I think I was on my knees for hours, the harsh carpet digging into my skin, but that didn’t matter. I barely felt it after a while. I apologized for not praying in years, for only praying when it benefited me which I knew was selfish. I asked for help, and begged for it. I needed him to help Dean. I said I’d do anything he wanted if he did that, even if it meant becoming a nun. I felt incredibly embarrassed begging like that, I didn't even believe in God yet there I was my hands pressed together and the carpet beneath my knees. I cried again that night, for everyone I've lost and how far I would go to save another.

Adeline was wrong, I decided. Sacrifice didn't come with the solution, it came with the search for the answer. Like I said, I didn't feel like myself. I knew I was losing myself each hour that passed and I knew it would only get worse if he did die.

On the third morning, I did the same thing I did the morning before. But after healing him for the first time that morning, I broke in front of him. “I don't want you to go,” I told him, sobbing. He just held me against him even though I knew it hurt him, but he just stroked my head anyway mumbling “I know, I know” into my hair. I could hear his voice breaking with each letter; somehow, that was worse than seeing him act as if he didn't care. Then very quietly he whispered, “I don't know how to comfort someone when I know I’m the source of their pain.”

They did more tests on him. He wasn't getting better, at least not fast enough. It seemed my healing was just halting its progress momentarily, in a sense slowing it down before it continued. I needed to stay on him longer but I wasn’t sure how and ‘could barely make it past 20 minutes before I began to shake so badly and feel so faint like my chest was being pulled open with the sharp nails of cold hands.

I went back to the motel dragging my feet. It had been three days and we had nothing to show for it but failed attempts which I suppose is better than no attempts though it didn’t much feel that way. When I got there I returned to my corner at the table, moving away my mess of “work” with a swipe of my arm. I crumble into the wooden chair, laying my forehead on the edge of the table, I didn’t know what to do. I’d keep looking no matter what, that would not change. I would search through every book on every myth, god, folklore, anything. I’d do whatever it took, I just hoped time would not beat us to the finish line.

With a huff, I pulled my latest book from the library closer to me, a book on Greek Gods. I pick up where I left off in the thick book on the God of healing and medicine Asclepius. I read the passage about him, and it seemed promising, “He was considered a symbol of medical knowledge, skill, and wisdom. Known for his ability to heal the sick and revive the dead, Asclepius played an essential role in Greek religious and medical traditions…He was known for his exceptional skill in diagnosing diseases and treating wounds. His abilities were so profound that he could even bring the dead back to life, a talent that eventually led to his downfall…The Asclepieia, healing temples dedicated to the god, were spread throughout Greece and were renowned centers of medical practice. Pilgrims would travel great distances to seek healing, engaging in purification rituals, sacrifices, and dream incubation, where they would sleep in the temple and receive divine guidance through dreams.”

The rest of the chapter contains no more info on the healing aspect but just more of his legacy and whatnot. I close the book sharply, pulling open my laptop to do more research on him. Maybe a temple still existed, and considering Pilgrims there might even be one in America somewhere. Just as I type the temple name into Google a knock sounds from the door.

For a moment I think Sam forgot his keys, but when I turned to where he always was he was there. He looks at me confused and I shrug my shoulders, “Maybe it’s room service?” He answers by going to the door and opening it curiously. I watch from my seat, tilting my chair back to get a better look. But it is not room service, or someone knocking at the wrong door, it’s Dean. I almost fall backward, my chair slams forward back on all four legs I shoot up from my seat.

He leans on the doorframe, holding his side. He still has dark circles under his eyes and just looks sickly which is only accentuated by the black zip-up he wore, which was odd for him he never really wore sweaters. “What the hell are you doing here?” Sam exclaims his voice a mix of surprise and confusion. Dean limps his way just a little bit further into the room, leaning on a dresser next to the door, “I checked myself out,” he responds placing all his weight on the thing. I didn't even know a sick patient could check themselves out like that. “What, are you crazy?” Sam exclaims.

Dean shrugs, “Well, I’m not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.” He turns his head to wink at me and gives me that devilish smile. My jaw dropped, baffled wasn't even the word to explain it. This had to be the most Dean Winchester thing Dean could have ever done, I could not fathom it. I wanted to call him an idiot but I was too shocked to give any response. Sam huffs a laugh as he shuts the door, “You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-danger-thing? It’s crap. I can see right through it, we both can.”

Dean moves himself further into the room leaning on anything he could, “Yeah, whatever, dude. Have either of you even slept? You look worse than me.” Sam helps him to the bed, sitting him down, “We’ve been scouring the Internet for the last three days.”

I sit back in my chair, scooting it so I can face them both, “I don't know how either of our laptops survived this. Late at night, I think I can hear it cry.”

Dean purses his lips, “Lack of sleep has made you crazy.” It was my turn to huff a laugh, and for that fraction of a second everything felt normal. But that moment of normalcy breaks as Sam adds, “I’ve also called every contact in Dad’s journal.” I was brought right back to the present, back to the reason we were doing all of this to begin with. “For what?” Dean asks.

“For a way to help you,” Sam explains, “One of Dad’s friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist.”

“Wait, why didn't you tell me sooner?” I ask.

“He called back when you were with Dean,” he answers, “I was going to tell you when you came back but didn't get the chance before he decided to break out.” I hum an ‘oh’ in response. “You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?” Dean chimes in, hunched over.

“I’m not gonna let you die, period. We’re going” Sam says, end of discussion.

The Impala bumps along the gravel road, I was beyond happy we finally arrived. The sky was cloudy and grey with a thin layer of mist clinging to everything, it reflected the past couple of days and the ride quite perfectly. Dean rested in the back seat the entire time, his face scrunched in discomfort, we stopped a couple of times so I could jump back there and heal him for a short while.

The car comes to a full stop among others in a large green field, a large white circus tent stealing the show. A sign nearby reads The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness The Miracle. I was skeptical, but like Sam said our options were low. I wasn’t religious and certainly hated when things like this existed, giving people false hope and feeding them lies, when they could be looking at real options and getting real help but I guess I was being a hypocrite considering how I spent my time kneeling to a God I didn't believe in. Many people walked towards it, all sick, some with canes, walkers, breathing devices, etc. I get out of the car slowly, eyeing the scene carefully. We’re all just desperate people, hoping a tent in the middle of nowhere will save our loved ones.

Sam gets out of the car, rounding the vehicle to help his brother get out of the car. Dean grimaces as he tries to lift himself, “I got ya” Sam tells him trying to grab him but Dean shoves him away, “I got it” he spits. He fixes himself, pissed off, but uses the car to hold himself up leaning on it, “Man, you are a lying bastard. ‘Thought you said we were going to see a doctor.”

“I believe I said a specialist” Sam corrects. I squint my eyes at him, “You’re not slick. But…” I say stretching out the word, “We should try, at the very least.”

“And this guy is supposed to be the real deal” Sam adds, nodding. Dean scuffs, rolling his eyes, “I can’t believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent.”

An old woman walks by holding a big black umbrella, “Reverend LeGrange is a great man” she declares. “Yeah, that’s nice” Dean sarcastically remarks. I hold back on batting his arm as I would normally, “Be nice” I mumble instead.

We walk away from the old lady and the car heading toward the tent, walking past an angry man who is struggling against an officers hold, “I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he’s milking all these people of their hard-earned money.” I suck in a sharp breath, mumbling an “Amen, brother” underneath my breath. But the Sheriff seems to ignore the man's declaration, holding him back while trying to lead him away, “Sir, this is a place of worship. Let’s go. Move it.” The man huffs, walking away with the Sheriff. “I take it he’s not part of the flock” Dean remarks.

Sam purses his lips, half shrugging, “When people see something they can’t explain, there’s controversy.”

Dean stops short, getting our attention and making us stop too, “I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer? And what about you Y/N you don’t believe in this crap.”

I hold up my hands in surrender, “You're right. I don’t. And I think making a whole religion out of it that smells more like a cult than anything, it’s ridiculous. But there’s a good chance this is legit,” I drop my hands back at my side, “He’s probably using magic like I was doing with you, it's just that he's, hopefully, more successful.” He pressed his lips together tightly, I got him there. “See, maybe it’s time to have a little faith, Dean,” Sam adds.

“You know what I’ve got faith in?” Dean exclaims, “Reality. And this won’t work. I mean do you really think this guy is a dude-witch.”

I purse my lips, “I’m pretty sure the term would be a wizard, but, uh, I don't know. I’d have to see it in action to know for certain along with anything around him while he works, rituals and stuff.” I pause for a moment, thinking it over, “I do hope he’s real and not an elaborate con artist, and I hope he’s better than me at the whole healing thing.” I was being blatantly honest. I hoped it would encourage Dean to not fight this version of help, and I truly did wish this guy could help. “And if you know evil’s out there, how can you not believe good’s out there, too?” Sam chimes in, a hint of annoyance on his tongue. A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitches, “Because I’ve seen what evil does to good people.”

Dean’s POV

I snapped in a moment of weakness and said too much. “Dean” she sighs, placing a gentle hand on my upper arm, stepping closer to me almost subconsciously. I didn’t want a lecture full of sappy nonsense and corny poetry. She must have known that because she smiled sadly, her lip curving up on one side, my eyes following the movement, “Good does exist, it has to,” she says simply ever the optimist. She tilts her head slightly, looking up at me through her curled eyelashes, her hand still on my arm, my knees feel weak. “I'm sure you can think of at least one good person. Of course, the terms good and evil are subjective…” she cuts her cute rambling off, “but you get what I mean.”

I guess she was right. Sammy’s a good person sometimes a total asshole but I guess that came with the territory of being brothers. And Y/N’s the definition of being a good person, she’s always been kind even to people who didn't deserve it, including me. I remember a couple of times I was cruel to her when we were kids, always about her being a witch, yet for some reason she accepted my apology and even wanted to keep being friends. For a long time, I didn’t understand her, ‘how she could be sweet and smile at a world filled with darkness. Sometimes I think I still don't get her. “Please just give it a try,” she pleads, “And if it doesn't work or turns out to be a con you can make fun of us the whole way back.”

I studied her again, she looked drained and I knew she hadn't been sleeping all because of me. “Fine” I huff. She bites back a smile and suddenly complying with this stupid faith healer was worth it.

“And who knows, maybe God works in mysterious ways” an unfamiliar voice butts in. I didn't care to look who it was, solely focused on the girl who still had her hand on me; a smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes, one I hadn't seen in three days. “Maybe he does” I respond, half heartily, I look up briefly catching the eyes of an attractive blonde holding a black umbrella. I averted my eyes back to my girl, but she was already looking away at the woman who interrupted us, her hand slipped down my arm.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N” she introduces herself, holding out the hand that was touching me only moments ago. She accepts her hand, “Layla. And these two?” Layla says looking past her. “Sam,” he introduces himself before motioning to me, “Dean.” I give her a tightlipped smile in response.

She smiles at me, “So, if you’re not a believer, then why are you here?” She was attractive, you’d have to be blind not to see it but my interest is elsewhere. I can't fool myself into thinking that'll work out. Hell, I'm probably gonna end up dead. And yeah, it's harsh, but I can't shake the feeling that I'd rather spend what time I've got with Y/N, not waste it chasing after other girls just to fill the gap she left without even knowing it. I’m self-aware enough to know that. “Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the both of us” I muse. An older woman with blondish-gray hair walks over, putting an arm around the girl, “Come on, Layla. It’s about to start.” Both women smile at us before walking away.

“Well, you heard the woman,” Y/N starts, “We should get you inside.” Sam nods leading the way.

Your POV

The tent is packed, full of people trying to find seats, it smells of hope and despair if that’s possible. “Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over,” Dean remarks, nodding over to a camera in the corner. Did churches have cameras? “I guess it makes sense,” I try to reason, “‘probably get more people like that dude outside protesting, maybe even getting violent.”

Dean slips away sitting down on one of the foldable chairs. “Hey no,” I point at him, “You are not gonna be all brooding and hide in the back.” His shoulders slump, “Let’s sit here.”

“No” I answer simply, eyebrows scrunched. He opens his mouth in a retort but his brother steps in, putting an arm around him and practically dragging him from the seat and towards the front, “Oh, come, on, Sam” Dean growls. Mistaking his anger for pain Sam halts in his movements, “You alright?”

“This is ridiculous” Dean bites, slapping his brother’s hands away, “I’m good, dude, get off of me.” I roll my eyes at their behavior, even in public, and even with one of them being severely sick they could still act childish and make a scene. I look around the closer rows, looking for seats, “Look at that” I smile turning back to the boys, “seats” I point to three empty seats not only close to the front but right behind Layla, the girl from before. She seemed nice, maybe a little strange in randomly joining the conversation but it wasn���t a big deal. “Perfect” Sam agrees, lightly shoving his brother in that direction. “Yeah, perfect” Dean remarks, sarcasm clear in his voice.

“Take the aisle,” Sam tells his brother before moving into the row of seats, I move in after him taking the seat between them. Dean grumbles something, his face having ‘irritable’ all over it, but he sits quietly, arms crossed.

An old man with white hair and sunglasses steps onto the stage with the help of an older woman with brown hair tied back. He must be the famous Roy LeGrange, “Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?” he says with a classic southern accent, the crowd muttering agreements, “Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act.”

“He could say that aga–'' I began to mumble. “Huh” I hum to myself, my eyes catching on a particular religious item, why would there be a Celtic cross? I mean the cross represented the blending of the Celts and Christians but there are many separations between the two from believing in multiple gods to human sacrifice–

“But, I say to you, God is watching,” he preaches, and if I wasn't so focused on that wooden cross I might have rolled my eyes forgetting my manners, especially when the crowd responded with “Yes he is.” It sounded very cultish, the hair on my arms standing up. Maybe it wasn’t that weird for there to be a Celtic cross, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling. I racked my brain for information on it, and I just couldn’t see it used in Christian churches anymore. Though of course, I could be wrong, it's not like I go to church every day or even once a week. But again it felt a little too weird to just brush off–

“God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt” Roy continued getting loud cheering and more murmuring. I look at the people around me strangely, I forget how powerful religion is…

Speaking of which, that damn Celtic cross again. Alright, think. The Celtic cross represents life and death, creating dynamic tension, the vertical arm represents the life aspect while the horizontal arm signifies death, the circle acting as a portal to transformation. In simpler terms, the cross and circle represent opposing forces; life and death, yet they harmonize with the Celtic cross, emphasizing unity and balance, they coexist. But what does that mean here? Okay, well he’s supposedly healing people which would be the life aspect and the death could represent the healing cheating death? No, that sounded like a stretch. Maybe this was all a stretch and the cross meant nothing. I’m just overreacting because I'm scared of what will become of this if this man was a con or whatever else. Yeah, that makes more sense—

“It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts,” Roy proclaimed.

“Yeah,” Dean whispers just loud enough for Sam and me to hear, “and into their wallets.” But it wasn’t quiet enough, “You think so, young man?” Oh, that was weird. The crowd falls dead silent, “Sorry” Dean apologizes. “No, no. Don’t be.” Roy shakes his head, “Just watch what you say around a blind man, we’ve got real sharp ears.” The crowd laughs but an unpleasant feeling worms itself into my stomach. It was innocent enough but something felt off and I don't think it has anything to do with Dean being scrutinized. “What’s your name, son?” Roy asks. He clears his throat, sitting straighter in his seat, “Dean.”

“Dean” Roy repeats nodding to himself, “I want…I want you to come up here with me.” My eyes widened, maybe God finally listened. “No, it’s okay” he shakes his head. “What are you doing?!” Sam whisper-yells, but his brother ignores him.

“You’ve come here to be healed, haven’t cha?” Roy inquires.

“Well, yeah, but, uh…maybe you should just pick someone else” Dean attempts to reason. And I hate the way he doesn't believe he is worthy of saving. The crowd claps loudly, “Oh, no. I didn’t pick you, Dean, the Lord did.” Had we been here for any other reason I might have been more disturbed by that proclamation, but this was a chance. The crowd roars in excitement, voices mixed in encouragement. Dean looks overwhelmed, I place a hand on his knee gaining his attention quickly, “Dean, this is good, go” I whisper to him even though I was unsure of this whole thing and that odd cross. He studies me for half a moment, something I couldn't recognize passing over his features before he reluctantly raises, my hand slipping from his leg.

The woman from before helps Dean to the stage, situating him next to the healer, “You ready?” he asks Dean. “Look, no disrespect, but, uh, I’m not exactly a believer,” Dean says, looking between the crowd and the old man. But Roy just smiles, “You will be, son. You will be,” he turns to the crowd arms raised, “Pray with me, friends.” Again, almost like a cult, the crowd joins hands as Roy moves his hands to place on Dean; one on his shoulder and the other to the side of his head. I hold my breath, I want this to work so badly, I hadn't even begun to think of a plan B if this didn't.

Suddenly Dean’s eyes glaze over, it was never like that when I healed him, and then he seems to wobble sinking to his knees. I gasped, I didn't think it would be so intense or that my heart would beat so fast. A deep chill runs up my spine seeping into my bones, my skin prickles with goosebumps, the Celtic cross comes into view again and I suddenly feel sick, a horrible feeling tangling itself in between my stomach. I don't know where to look the cross or Dean, my eyes flipping between the two rapidly all until Dean's eyes roll back and he crumbles down onto the stage floor. Sam manages to jump over me, using his long legs to his advantage he gets to the stage in seconds grabbing the front of Dean's hoodie. I catch up quickly, glad we were close to the stage, I kneel in front of Dean his head lulling back. The loud noise of the crowd cheering becomes nothing but background noise, as I check his pulse my fingers against the side of his neck the steady but fast beating of his heart thumping below my touch.

With a sudden gasp his eyes shoot open, eyes wide and mouth agape.

I tap my foot impatiently on the clean floors of the hospital, thankful that right after testing I was allowed to be in the room. Dean looked better, he moved normally and his color was back, but we all agreed we should check officially. Now we were waiting and although the room sparked with anxiety, the dark looming cloud had cleared up a lot, and once we knew for sure it would most likely be gone. I just wished the doctor would come quicker. “So, you really feel okay?” Sam asks for the hundredth time since Dean woke from being healed yesterday. Dean stares at him blankly, “I feel fine, Sam” he grumbles.

Finally, the Doctor walks in, reading from the charts on his clipboard, “Well, according to all your tests there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was. Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, still strange things happen.” The cloud fades away, and I don’t hold back my beaming smile. “What do you mean, strange?” Dean asks, his face serious rather than elated. “Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack,” the doctor shares. Dean nods, giving the man a handshake, “Thanks, Doc.” The man leaves, closing the door behind him. “That’s odd,” Dean points out, referring to what the doctor said.

“Maybe it's a coincidence,” Sam shrugs, “People's hearts give out all the time, man.” I looked at him taken aback, what was he talking about, “Dude, what world are you living in?” He gives me a pointed look, annoyed with not only my response but also my not agreeing with him, “Do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life, Dean, and move on?”

“Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why” Dean bites back. I sigh, wishing we could just avoid this all, “Me neither.” Dean gives me a strange look, “You neither?”

“Yeah,” I nod, “I just, I don’t know, when we sat down I recognized something which automatically made me suspicious. Then you know the whole thing was happening and, well, maybe it was just nerves but it got really cold and I felt sort of sick. Which really doesn't make sense, but I just had this weird feeling, I don’t know.”

“I felt cold too,” Dean answers, face scrunched, “When I was healed, I just...I felt wrong, ‘cold. And for a second...I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, it was a spirit.” Maybe it wasn’t nerves and I wasn’t crazy. Sam huffs, clearly trying to ignore the red flags here, “But if there was something there, Dean, I think I would've seen it, too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately.”

“Alright, but he literally saw something and I felt something.” I reason, “You can’t deny two people saying something’s up, and whatever it was there’s probably a reason why you couldn’t see it.”

“You’re just gonna need a little faith on this one, Sam” Dean muses, using his own words against him. Sam sighs, finally giving in, “Yeah, alright. So, what do you wanna do?”

Dean steps into the leader role again, as if nothing had happened, “I want you to go check out the heart attack guy. Y/N, we’re gonna visit the reverend.”

I sit next to Dean on the nice leather couch, Roy sitting across from us. He and his wife had been very understanding and didn’t question our want to speak to him about yesterday, I figure he got this a lot. “I feel great,” Dean answers the reverend, “Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened.”

“A miracle is what happened,” Sue Ann, Roy’s wife and the woman from before answered, “Well, miracles come so often around Roy.” I gave her a half-hearted smile and nod, maybe it was just me but that response came off a little weird. I was getting a bad vibe from her, “So, um, when did these miracles start?” I ask Roy. Any desire to possibly learn from him had been subdued, caution taking its place. “Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh, we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, 'You just keep right on praying.'” He smiled sweetly at his wife before continuing, “I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone.” He takes off his black sunglasses, his eyes pure white, “If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it.” He puts the glasses back on, it was a touching story and his eyes added a horrifying touch but it just left more questions.

He seemed genuine, and I don’t think he would lie about being in a coma. When you’re sick like that, and experience something like that, you don’t create lies about your experience, not when it was traumatic like that. And staying on that belief, there was no way he suddenly just stopped having cancer and was able to heal people. He couldn’t have been responsible for whatever caused his initial health change. Which would then mean someone else was involved. “So then, you could just…heal people?” I ask.

“I discovered it afterward, yes,” he nods, "God's blessed me in many ways.” It didn’t add up. I couldn’t get it to add up in my head. Besides the whole no more sickness ideal, how could he just suddenly heal someone? I mean, how do you even discover you can? Was it an accident? Did the hypothetical person who might have caused him to get better tell him too? Or, tell him to try? Whereas for me I knew it was something I was capable of in general as a witch, but I also had many spell books, history books, journals, and everything to learn from. And if my mother had lived longer she would have been able to teach me it too.

“And his flock just swelled overnight,” Sue Ann added, her eyes full of endearment, “And this is just the beginning.” I study her for a moment, balancing on the thin line of suspicion and paranoia. There was nothing inherently wrong about her or what she said, and maybe it was my mind making up the fact that her last words were just a little aggressive.

“Can I ask you one last question?” Dean asks, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “Of course you can,” Roy responded sincerely. He really does seem like a nice guy, genuine, and it could be my inherent lack of sleep that’s making me connect dots that might not even be there. “Why? Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?” My heart broke. Of course he didn’t feel adequate, especially when he tried convincing us for the last four days he wasn't worth saving, that we should give up and let him die. I place a careful hand on his knee, I don’t want to scare him away or clam up again, he never was very open. “Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me,” Roy answers, “I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest.”

Dean wets his lips, my eyes flickering up to the movement, he leans forward slightly, “What did you see in my heart?” I move my gaze away catching on Sue Ann’s innocent movement of picking up her glass of water, but as she leans over her necklace escapes from its place beneath her shirt. A small wooden Celtic Cross held by a thin silver chain, she catches my eyes, covering the cross with her hand and giving me an innocent smile. She assumes I would think it's just any ol’ cross, she does run religious ceremonies so such a simple totem shouldn’t mean anything else. Maybe there were dots to connect after all, and it was on full display ready to be fastened. I focused my attention back on the conversation, I left my bag in the car so I’d have to wait, and in the meanwhile, I did not wish for her to get suspicious of me either.

Roy smiles softly, “A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished.” I feel Dean tense beneath my hand, his face full of shock. Whether Roy did see something or not, it might have been the thing Dean needed to hear regardless.

I wanted to run back to the car and look through my spell book and journal, but Sue Ann was seeing us out and if I had easily become suspicious of her then it was possible she would grow suspicious of what I knew too. I could almost feel her gaze burning into the back of my head, but I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on Dean's warm hand on the small of my back leading me down the short wooden stairs of their porch. But I had not expected to see Layla and the woman she was with before, I think her mother. “Dean, Y/N, hey,” she greets. “Hey,” Dean responds just as we reach ground level, his hand pressing further into my back before curling around my waist, his hand lying on my side before he pushes me closer against him. I don’t know why he was being so touchy, not that I was exactly complaining. I welcomed it and the warmth it brought.

“How ‘you feeling?” She asks him, tilting her head slightly, her face beaming in sincerity. “I feel good. Cured, I guess. What are you doing here?” he responds.

“You know, my mom, she wanted to talk to the reverend.” Layla nods toward the door prompting Sue Ann to step fully onto the porch rather than standing halfway between the screen door. “Layla?” she asks, probably not having seen her from where she stood. “Yes, I'm here again,” Layla answers softly.

“Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting. He won't be seeing anyone else right now.” Sue Ann informed, nodding sympathetically. Every word she said just made me want to turn around and head to the car, I was itching for it. I wondered if Dean could feel it from where he was touching me or just sensed it, giving me a questioning look with a raised eyebrow. But I couldn’t exactly say anything right now so I ignored his look.

“Sue Ann, please,” Layla’s mom pleads, “This is our sixth time, he's got to see us.”

“Roy is well aware of Layla's situation,” Sue Ann declares harshly, “And he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke.” And with that, she goes back inside. I might not know exactly what’s going on but her continuous frustrated comments regarding the healing and her perhaps overly religious nature were enough to make me antsy. We should really go to the car, call Sam to see what he found, or even just head to the hotel. Layla’s mom turns sharply to Dean, glaring at him she spits, “Why are you still even here? You got what you wanted.”

“Mom. Stop” Layla insists, looking at us nervously.

“No, Layla, this is too much” her mom fumed, “We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you. Strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder.” I do feel bad for her, but it's not like we had control over any of this so she shouldn't be mad at us let alone Dean who was quite literally on his deathbed and might not have made it to the end of the week. I open my mouth to say exactly that, but Dean cuts me off before I get a chance, “Layla, what’s wrong?” he asks.

She looks everywhere but him, “I have this thing…”

“It's a brain tumor,” her mother cuts in bluntly, “It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say…” Layla cuts her mom off putting a hand on her shoulder. Maybe it was good Dean didn’t let me say what I wanted to, it would’ve been too cruel to do that to someone who was going to lose her daughter. It seemed like we were surrounded by death, more now than ever and I hadn’t thought that could be possible. I didn’t like death, or sickness though I suppose who does. “I'm sorry” Dean says, and I just nod in agreement not trusting my own voice. “It's okay” Layla responds softly. Her mother shakes her head slowly, “No. It isn't,” her sharp gaze is back on Dean, “Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?” Then she storms away, Layla hesitantly following. I know that woman was just upset and projecting her anger but it was not fair. Grief isn’t fair.

I look at Dean, his jaw clenched tightly, a slight furrow of his brow, his eyes a little far away in thought. I recognized that look. “Don’t listen to her” I declare, slipping from his hold to look at him straight on, “Death is not kind and it is not just, but you deserve to live. You deserve to live just as much as Layla or anyone else does. I know that look and I know you're thinking poorly of yourself, which I hate that you do so ‘cause you’re amazing and brave and kind and you care so much for others regardless of your gruff attitude.” His eyes are wide and written with shock but I continue, “So don’t think for one second that you don’t deserve to live.” I didn’t realize my chest was heaving, or that a lump had formed in my throat. I’ve watched too many people die, I’ve been down the rabbit hole of grief. I knew it well, it became a second skin. And I've watched someone run themselves into the ground because they didn’t feel like they deserved to live, or at least not when the love of their life was dead. I watched the evolution of that grief while dealing with my own and my brother’s. Death was not kind.

His jaw was slack with surprise and I know I said too much, I gave him a sharp awkward nod before turning around and heading for the car. I have something to look into.

Dean throws his keys on the bed the second we enter, the soft jingle of the metal ringing through the quiet room. I unzipped my sweatshirt, making my way towards Sam who sat at the small table to the side of the room. I take a seat next to him, putting my sweater behind me, “So what’d you find?” He seems hesitant to answer, his adam's apple bobbing, “Um, I’m sorry Dean” he says weakly looking up at his brother.

Dean takes his jacket off putting it on top of mine, his face written in confusion, “Sorry about what?” he asks, leaning on the back of my chair, his knuckles just barely brushing my back. Sam huffs out a breath, “Marshall Hall died at 4:17.” My eyes widened, I shouldn’t be surprised it was just another dot to be connected to whatever was going on with the damn cross. “The exact time I was healed” Dean adds solemnly, voicing what we were all thinking.

“Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits,” Sam explains, “Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time.”

“Oh frick” I mumble, apparently nothing is allowed to be easy for us. And I wasn’t exactly expecting that to be what we’re dealing with. “Someone's healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?” Dean asks for confirmation, even though it’s clear that’s what’s going on. “Somehow. LeGrange…” Sam sighs, “he's trading a life for another.”

Dean stands up straight backing away from the table, from Sam, “Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?” Sam shakes his head, “Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed.”

“You never should've brought me here.” Dean declares, running a hand down his face.

“Dean, I was just trying to save your life.” Sam reasons.

“But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me.”

“I didn't know,” Sam answers quietly.

I stand up abruptly, “Hey, there’s nothing we can do about that now. What’s done is done.” This all got very complicated very quickly, maybe Adeline was right you can’t save someone from death without making difficult decisions and sacrifices. “But what we can do is stop this from happening again, before it gets worse” I add and I know I don’t sound so convincing. You don’t get to choose who lives and who dies, and we had crossed that line whether intentionally or not, just wanting to save Dean from death was already putting a foot past that line. “That’s the thing I don't understand, how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?” Sam questions. “Oh, he’s not doing it,” Dean answers, “Something else is doing it for him.”

“Do you mean the thing with Sue Ann?” I ask with a tilt of my head, maybe he had picked up on it too. “What?” his face contorts in confusion, “No? What are you talking about?”

“Oh” I say, now I'm confused, “Wait. What are you talking about?”

“What are both of you talking about?!” Sam exclaims looking between us. Dean sighs, pinching the space between his brows, “The old man I saw on stage” he explains, “I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down I knew.” He pauses and I begin to wonder if it’s for dramatic affect. I motion my hand for him to continue and he does, “There’s only one thing that can give and take life like that. We’re dealing with a Reaper.”

“Pardon?” I say, my mouth agape. “Yeah,” Sam agrees, face just as shocked as I am, “You really think it's THE Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?”

“No no no, not THE reaper, A reaper.” Dean clarifies, taking the seat I once occupied, “There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them.” My mouth still hangs open, it can never be something normal with us, ever. “But you said you saw a dude in a suit,” Sam voiced.

“What, you think he shoulda been working the whole black robe thing?” Dean countered, “You said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you guys couldn't.”

“Oh my god,” I say, the realization finally hitting me, “That’s where it comes in!” Both boys stare at me confused, “Where what comes in?” Sam asks.

“Okay, remember I said I recognized something and thought it was a little strange,” I paused waiting for them to nod before continuing, “It was a Celtic Cross, which was all I could focus on the entire time ‘cause like what is it doing there. And then I started thinking of what it symbolizes, here’s the interesting part” I point out, “So basically, the Celtic cross represents life and death, creating dynamic tension. The cross and circle represent opposing forces; life and death, yet they harmonize with the cross, emphasizing unity and balance, they coexist. Which now makes total sense with the whole Reaper thing.”

“Sorry sweetheart, I’m not following here” Dean admits. I huff a laugh, “Right. Let me get to the point. So, as far as I know someone has to control the Reaper to, you know, dictate who lives and dies and to do that you need a spell. And I’ve seen it before…” I head over to my bag that I had just plopped down right next to the door when we walked in, I pull out my spell book holding it up, “This book has been in my family for generations. Now as you know my mother and her family didn’t see eye to eye, so when it eventually became my mothers and she ran away she changed a lot of stuff in here, crossing things out etc.” I open the book, flicking through the pages, “Basically there’s some pretty dark stuff in here, straight up black magic, some stuff even ancient,” finally I find the page, “Aha!” I turn the book around pointing at the page, “As you can see by the frowny face in the corner my mother did not appreciate this spell. Anyways, this is a binding spell for a Reaper where you create a black alter with bones and human blood etc, you get the point. You can then control it with a Celtic Cross, and before I saw Sue Ann with the necklace.”

“So you think Sue Ann is using dark magic to control a Reaper and kill people to save people because you saw a necklace?” Sam asks. I close the book, “Yeah, and it makes sense she was desperate when her husband was sick. I don’t know how I didn’t think of this sooner.” I knew this page existed, I've seen it in passing multiple times, especially some time since Dean was in the hospital. I guess I did listen to Adeline’s warning because even though I was ready to go far to save him I had kept away from pages like this. “Yeah but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?” Dean points out. I shrug, “Money? She’s psycho? I don’t know, maybe there’s a connection with the victims.”

“How would we break it?” Sam voices.

“We gotta get that cross from her, the one around her neck” I answer, “And let me just add, that Reaper is gonna be pissed, I mean the second it gains back its control…” I don’t need to say it out loud for them to get what I mean.

The Impala bounces down the badly graveled and potholed road, passing a sign that says Service Today. Hopefully we will be just in time. Dean brings the car to a stop and wordlessly we exit, “How do we get Sue Ann alone?” Sam asks. I nervously tap the side of my legs as we approach the tent, some guy handing out leaflets stops us, “Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He's no healer.” Dean accepts the paper, “Amen brother” he nods. “You keep up the good work” Sam points at the man and he looks taken aback, he probably didn’t get many if any people that agreed. “Thank you,” he says, surprised.

Focusing back on the task at hand I open my mouth about to say something about not knowing where she goes when she does the spell when I spot her near the side of the tent, “I see her” I say already moving in that direction, “Find her spell book and keep Roy distracted too in case this does not work.” I don’t wait to hear a response before I’m running off to catch up with the woman playing God, “Sue Ann!” I call as I approach. She turns, her eyes wide, the necklace peeking out from her blouse, “Hi Y/N, what are you doing back here?” she asks sweetly.

“Oh well you guys are doing such amazing stuff here, wanted to say thank you one last time before we had to head off” I answered hoping my lie was believable. “Don’t thank us, you just thank the Lord” She says pointing to the night sky. I nod, I had to keep her talking long enough to figure out how to get the necklace off, “I have to admit I always had a hard time believing in the man upstairs, but you and Roy really turned me around.”

“Oh I’m glad, it’s never too late to welcome Him into your heart,” she smiles, “Now if you’ll excuse me I must get going, the sermon is starting.” Uh oh, do I just rip it off of her? No, she’s already turning around, “One last thing!” I call out getting her attention again. This time when she turns around she looks annoyed, “Uh, um…”come on Y/N come up with a lie or something, “I saw your necklace earlier today, I think you caught me staring,” I laugh, “I was just…I was wondering where you got it from I’ve never seen something like that before.” She clasps her necklace, “It’s just an old thing, I don’t remember where I got it from.”

“Could I maybe take a closer look at it? Maybe I can find a replica, you know, for my new found belief.” I was practically begging her to just let this be easy, maybe I should ask Dean to give me a lesson on finessing cause this is not working. She clasps it tighter, “I’m sorry, maybe later I really have to help with the sermon now.”

“Right, right sorry” she begins to turn around again but I call out again, “I know you said to thank the Lord and I have and will, it’s just” that gets her attention, “I feel like you and Roy are also responsible and like I said I came to thank you again…I know it’s maybe unprofessional or what not, but, could I just give you a hug? You’ve really done so much for us.” God I was bad at this. Her face softens a fraction, hey maybe I wasn’t bad at this, “Of course.” She holds out her arms and I move closer to allow myself to be embraced, I wrap my arms near her neck hoping she couldn’t feel the tension in my body. “Thank you” I say softly, all the while sneaking my hand to the clasp of her necklace.

She pulls away abruptly, once more grasping her necklace, “What is wrong with you!” she exclaims. I back up, hands up in defense, “After everything we’ve done to help you, healing your boy” she glares at me with wide eyes, “I never expected this from you Y/N.” I stare at her blankly, do I jump her? “You get out of here, before I call over those officers. Looks like your boy is already in trouble too. Disappointing, both of you.”

I look over my shoulder, Dean’s being pushed away by two cops and there’s a large crowd surrounding the tent including Roy. Maybe they evacuated. I turn back to Sue Ann but she’s already pushing past me, heading to the crowd. Oh no. Layla walks up to him next and she seems to be upset with him. How much did I miss? I rush towards Dean, Layla walking away, “What did you do?” I whisper yell. “You said to distract Roy!” he argues.

“I didn’t mean to get in trouble with the police!”

“‘Don’t matter, did you get it?” Dean asks with a quirked eyebrow. “No,” I grumble, “She caught me in my attempt and started lecturing me, I was thinking of just jumping her before she pointed out your run in with the police.”

“You were gonna jump the woman?!” He exclaims.

“I didn’t know what to do!!” I hissed, “And it’s not like I did it!” I let out a frustrated sigh, crossing my arms across my chest, “We need a new plan, where’s Sammy?”

“‘Think he’s waiting by the car, ‘hope he’s got somethin’ Roy’s gonna do a private healing session with Layla tonight.”

“Great,” I mumble, “I really should have jumped her.”

I sit criss cross applesauce on the hard motel bed. For a hunt that I knew so much about I had royally blown it. She was right there. The necklace right there. “Please tell me you found something helpful in their home” I pleaded.

“I found the spell book, written by a priest who went dark side,” Sam answers, holding up the small book, “And she isn’t just killing random people. She’s forcing the Reaper to kill people she finds immoral, from some teacher who was openly gay to a woman who advocated for abortion rights.” The room fell quiet for a moment, there were more layers to this than we thought. “May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work” Dean muses.

“No seriously that’s messed up,” I add, shaking my head. “Yeah,” Sam nods, “I think you should hold onto this book Y/N.” He hands it over and I hold it cautiously in my hand, “How nice.” I’ll probably spend the next couple of days reading it over before ultimately sending it home, I did not need a spell book on dark magic with me, didn't even need to own it but rather me than get in the wrong hands.

“We should head back soon” Dean says, “Layla could be there any minute”

The Impala rolls over the graveled road for the second and hopefully final time today, this time with total darkness cloaking us no lights on. We roll to a stop, “That's Layla's car. She's already here,” Sam points out.

Dean nods slowly, “Yeah.” He was upset, “Dean…” Sam began. But Dean ignores him, looking out the window instead, “You know if Roy woulda picked Layla instead of me she'd be here right now. And if she's not healed tonight she's gonna die in a coupla’ months.” I should’ve known my dramatic speech from before wouldn’t magically resolve him of his guilt, no one has that power. “What's happening to her is horrible,” Sam reasons, “But what are you gonna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God.”

Dean goes quiet for a beat before getting out of the car, Sam and I following. We approach the tent, peeking inside to see Roy speaking to a small group of people including Layla and her mom, “Gather round, please everyone, gather round. Come in closer, come on up.”

“Where's Sue Ann?” Dean whispers. I tried to crane my neck to look around the tent, maybe she was off to the side somewhere… “House,” Sam answers simply.

We creep up to the small house, weary of making too much noise we couldn’t afford to get caught, “You guys go find Sue Ann, I'll catch up,” Dean orders. I look at him confused, “Wait, what are you gonna—“ But Dean’s already backing away from us yelling, “Hey!” to two figures in the distance. “You gonna put that fear of God in me?” he yells out, of course he would be taunting the police. The officers drop what looks to be coffee cups before running after him, Dean taking off at full speed. Only he would do something so stupid. “Uh, anyways” I begin, “If she’s doing it at her house she’s probably by the altar, and considering the size and necessities of the thing and the fact her husband doesn't know it would have to be in an attic or basement.”

“I’ll offer you one better” Sam nods off to the side of the building, “a cellar.” He was right, that would be better. And on top of that definite light emerges from the metal doors. Sam leads the way opening up the heavy doors and propping it open as he makes his way down first. I follow suit immediately being hit with the sight that is the altar, a small table adorned with candle operas filled by tall burning candles, parts of dead animals, bones and blood sprawled out meticulously across the red table cloth. And right in the middle was a black and white surveillance photo of Dean before he was healed, the photo smeared in blood.

“I gave him life and I can take it back too” A familiar voice suddenly says. Sue Ann. I turn around hastily being met with cold eyes, behind me I hear a large crash and I don’t have to look to know Sam had flipped over the table. Her eyes flip to the scene and I use the initial shock to rush her, but she was already close to the stairs so it did not take her long to sweep up them slamming the cellar doors behind her. Something clicks and shifts, she must have locked us in here. Sam joins me at my side, pushing and fighting against the barred doors. “Can't you see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked,” she reasons, “And Dean is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will.”

Oh, so that twisted psycho thinks that’s how it is. Well she messed with the wrong witch. “You're gonna wanna back up” I tell Sam. I press my palms to the cold metal of the doors, I’m pissed now. No one gets to use magic, let alone dark magic, on either of my boys. The doors begin to rattle harshly, almost as if there’s an earthquake, “Goodbye Sam, Y/N” she says. I put more force on the door, my entire being focused on it until it burst open bits of chipped paint and screws flying away, a satisfying break of the wood she used to block us ringing in my ears as broken bits of the wood come crashing back down.

Sue Ann stands but a couple feet away, her eyes wide as she watches me exit the cellar with shock and fear. She backs up further and I follow after her like a predator trapping its prey. “I-I read about things like you” she says weakly, her voice shaking. She keeps backing up, “You’re a—You’re a—“ her back hits the wall of a nearby trailer house. “Witch” I finished for her, yanking off that necklace once and for all.

I throw it off to the side, far away, and back up from her. My job was done and the Reaper would come knocking for its own revenge. “My God, what have you done?,” she heaves, pressing a hand to where her necklace used to be. “He’s not your God” Sam says cooly. Her head snaps to something in the distance, her face falls growing pale she must be seeing the Reaper. Then all at once she takes off running, not making it very far before she falls to her knees, her body convulsing once, twice, before falling to the ground. “I think we have just aided in her murder” I muse.

“Yeah…” Sam nods, “We should probably…” This time I nod, not saying anything as we walk away from the crime heading back in the direction of the Impala. We intercept Dean on the way, meeting at the car. I give him a small thumbs up to say we did it this time and he nods solemnly. “You okay?” Sam asks him.

“Hell of a week” he answers.

I glanced up from my phone for the fifth time in the last minute. I was trying to text Adeline to update her on everything but kept getting distracted by Dean's blank face as he stared off at nothing while sitting in bed. I made eye contact with Sam, giving him a sad smile, we were thinking the same thing. He turns to his brother, watching him for a moment before speaking, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Dean replies gruffly. Sam looks back at me again and I give him an encouraging nod, “What is it?” he asks again this time more gently.

“We did the right thing here didn't we?” Dean asks, finally breaking. It was difficult to answer him, on one hand we stopped someone from playing God and killing people who they found immoral in which none of the victims were bad people, it wasn’t like they were criminals but to her they were still wicked (god forbid someone has a different opinion than you). But on the other hand it was saving people, except to pay one life for another wasn’t exactly gracious work. Yet, we were doing the same thing, trying to play God and cheat death. I had even admitted to being willing to make great scarface’s to do so, in that aspect I wasn’t so different from Sue Ann in the very beginning.

“Of course we did,” Sam answers, and he really does sound sure. Dean sighs, hanging his head, “It doesn't feel like it.” Suddenly there’s a knock at the door and the parallel from only earlier in the week is not lost on me, “I got it” Sam volunteers getting up from his seat to open the door, “Hey Layla. Come on in.”

Huh.

“Hey” she waves awkwardly. Dean quickly rises from his place on the bed, “How did you know we were here?”

“Sam...called. He said you...wanted to say goodbye?”

Dean glances at Sam and I join in on the glaring, he really needs to start telling me things sooner. But he just smiles sheepishly, “I'm gonna...grab a soda.”

I stand abruptly from my chair, Dean should have his time with Layla. Maybe he won’t feel as guilty, “I’m gonna join you” I declare, “A soda sounds great!” I follow Sam out the door, closing it behind me.

[imagine-lcorp]

Stubborn Love (One Shot)

Request

Hi! How about where Lena and reader broke up because Lena want to focus on being a CEO, fast forward in the future where they meet again and Reader has a child with her, whose also Lena's, and Lena tries to make up with reader and their child (Time where women can make a baby together, if you're okay with that)

A/N: Hey little beans!! missed me? Ok so a lot fo stuff has happened and I know I always promise I'm back, but all things considered I just gotta tell you, I'm just here, lost in space, I'll never be gone so at least theres that, so as long as you're here, I'm here, let's just enjoy our time together. Pls enjoy this little something!

Lena Luthor x  Fem!R//Word Count: 2, 546

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"Give our children your dark-bright eyes or your enchanted smile. So that even when we are gone, the world will find within them all the reasons I loved you." -Nizar Qabbani

Kelly put glass of water on the coffee table in front of you and sat next to you on the couch. She put an arm around you, rubbing your back and shoulders, trying to provide any kind of comfort she could.

It had been late at night when you had come knocking at her door. From the moment Kelly had opened it she knew something had happened. Your eyes were swollen?, red and you could barely say a word. You were holding a small bag of luggage beside you with a trembling hand. She practically pulled you inside by pure instinct without asking any of the questions that were swirling in her mind to put you in a safe space. It was her number one priority and she wasn't going to leave your side until she was sure you were alright.

When you were calm enough to speak, Kelly found herself shocked by what had made you come to her in the middle of the night. You and Lena had broken up.

Kelly had known you since she had arrived to National City to help her brother. It had been years ago but she still remembered you and Lena together and how happy you had seemed back then. You were probably one of the most estable relationships she had seen among her friends and it surprised her to find out how things had developed between you two to want to end it so abruptly.

Of all your friends, she was probably the only one who could grasp what you were going through and she promised you she was going to help you sort things out.

"Alex is out in a mission, she'll be back home in a couple of days so you can stay without problem. The spare room is ready." She said as she kept rubbing your back and shoulders. She could only imagine how tired yo would be after what had happened.

"I can't stay." Your voice came out hoarse and in a whisper.

"C'mon, you know I won't let you go like this. It's late, we can get to the problem solving tomorrow."

"No, I…I." You swallowed, gathering yourself as best as you could. "I can't stay in National City."

That took Kelly by surprise. "Let's not rush things, alright?"

"No, Kelly, I can't." You turned to look at her so she could see the determination in your eyes.

"(Y/N), I know this may seem difficult but you need to talk to Lena first. I think- ."

"I'm pregnant." You blurted, leaving Kelly with an open mouth.

There was a moment of hesitation in which Kelly didn't know what to do first. If jump in excitement about the new member of the Superfriends family or hug you because this seemed to trouble you more than she would have expected. Kelly opted for the second option and you let her embrace you, she pulled you into her arms as you let another handful of tears roll down your cheeks.

You would remember that first night after leaving Lena as one one of the most painful ones of your life. Your last conversation with Lena, the way you had left her apartment with a single suitcase in your hand, reaching for someone that could help you, and leaving National City behind to start a new life. Everything had seemed too dark and painful but you had something to pull you forward, someone that was going to change everything.

And so, years later you would find yourself stroking a little head full of black hair with your hand while you held his little body with the other against your chest. Little (Y/S/N), your son, was a little more than four years old. He was the light of your life and you loved him with all your might.

Since you had left National City, it had always been the two of you. From the nine months you carried him in your womb until that moment in your life, you had been inseparable. You had been afraid at first, for him and for yourself. Strangers in a new town, trying to make your own home, with no idea of how family was supposed to work. Things were not perfect, but he didn't need them to be and neither did you. You had made it and you had made something beautiful.

It was also true that you had your own regrets. There were moments when you thought a little too much about the past. About how things could have ended up if you had taken better, or less reckless, decisions. You feared the what ifs, the maybes, and the past that had been left that night at Kelly's door. And one particular ghost still haunted your mind and your heart.

Every time you looked at your son, you looked at her. Black hair, green eyes, and a young mind as sharp as a knife. Now I know whose genetics are stronger, you had thought to yourself with a smile so many times. Of course, if you looked at him you could also recognize yourself. (Y/S/N) was the little perfect combination of the best of you.

"She will have your nose, I'm sure." Lena had told you once, delighted at the thought of having a little you running around the house.

She had been sitting on the floor behind you, with her head placed above your shoulder as you both read the required papers to start the medical process that would make you both mothers. You had leaned back, humming in thought. Your fingers moved through pages and pages of information, trying to grasp as much as you could, amidst the distraction that supposed Lena's breath so close to your neck.

"What if she is a he?" You had questioned with a little smile.

"Then we'll have to think of more names." She had placed a kiss close to your ear and then had helped you read the rest.

It had been years since you had last seen her but there she was, with you, with him, even if you couldn't name her. You had said as much about her as you had been able to to your son when he was old enough to question you about it. Why he didn't a father? Or another mother? Two parents like most kids like him? Because his Mama wasn't ready to come to them yet, you had said, but that one day she was going to, and it pained you to realize how much you wanted for that wishful thing to happen too. And it was not long before it became true.

"(Y/N)?"

The phone had almost slipped from your hand after hearing her voice after so much time.

(Y/S/N) had turned his head away from the TV on the living room to watch you, trying to imagine who was talking on the other side of the line to make his mom make that funny face.

"Lena?" You had answered with a shaking voice.

"It's been a while."

The conversation started as it usually did, with people who used to know everything about each other and ended up becoming complete strangers. An exchange of words, questions and answers that seemed to lead to nothing but the abyss that now separated you from your past selves.

"I'm sorry." You heard her say on the other side with a hesitant tone so rare in her it surprised you even more. "I know I should've called you a long time ago."

"Yeah, you should have." You tried to keep your wounded heart from spilling as you looked at your son.

"Would it be too late if I ask , can we see each other again?"

You sat in the corner of the coffee shop with a warm cup between your fingers, sipping your beverage as you waited. You were nervous. You kept bouncing your leg and looking at the door until you saw her come through it.

It reminded you the very first time you had sat together, in that little coffee shop across the street from the office. You had been dreading the moment she would have to cross the door to meet with you, that if she even thought you were worth her time, after you had asked her to have a coffee with you. You could still remember the little smile playing across her lips when she accepted the invitation and the way your stomach had fluttered when she grabbed your arm, promising to met you after work. Time had passed and there had been no sign of her yet. You feared or a moment she had forgotten, and if that was the case you would not hold it against her. She was a busy woman, what was a coffee date compared to the empire she had to keep from crumbling. Still, you waited and, against all hope and all odds she had come.

Time seemed to freeze when your eyes found each other. She was all goddess looking even after the years you had spent away.

When you finally settled at the table, words seemed to be lost for both of you. Small talk was painfully dull. Another reminder of all that had been lost between you two.

"Lena?" You held your gaze towards her and finally asked her. A question too obvious, maybe, but necessary nevertheless. "Why are we here?"

She smiled, sheepishly and not without a hint of regret in her emerald eyes. "'Cause I was wrong".

The moment you had crossed her door to never come back again was the moment Lena knew what true and complete loneliness meant. An unyielding emptiness filled by shadows and rumors of what life she had with you and she had no one else to blame but herself. She had put her company above you, trying to make it the force of good the world needed and wanted, that she forgot you also needed her and wanted her and loved her.

And when Lena had realized her mistakes, when she had tried to reach you, to bring you back, you were so long gone and lost from her sight that it made her want to destroy everything she had worked so hard to build if that meant she would have you again.

"I'm sorry." Lena's eyes were full of regret.

"Don't be." You shook your head. "You were out there saving the world, trying to change your family legacy and I…I didn't want to hold you back."

"I don't think I would have done most of what I did if it wasn't for you." Her lips curled in a little smile. "We did many great things together."

"Yes, we did." The image of your son flashed through your mind and you swallowed hard. "One in particular, I think you need to know."

You stood in the sidewalk among the rest of parents that waited patiently for the school bell ring. You had not dared to answer Lena's questions about where you were going and why you were there after your encounter but you knew she had surely figured it out by now as you watched her fidget with her hands. Instinctively you reached for them, a gesture that had been so common between you, in an attempt to soothe her and yourself. You held hands as you kept waiting.

"How is he?" Lena asked, her thumb caressing the back of your hand in a nervous tick.

"He's very smart, first of his class." Lena raised her brows in surprise. "He likes big animals, wants a bike for Christmas, and wants to be an astronaut before becoming an Olympic athlete, in all sports." You sighed with a smile.

"Wonderful." A wave of warmth rushed through her, feeling herself proud of the little boy she was about to meet, and a moment of silence passed before she dared to ask. "Why did you never tell me about him?"

"I didn't know how." You took a deep breath. "Back then, you were so focused on being a CEO, on working for the good of the people. I saw how much it took from you but I also understood how big that responsibility was. It's true, what I said before. I didn't want to hold you back. I didn't want us to be a distraction, not particularly after our last fight."

"I'm sorry I ever made you feel that way." Lena turned to look at you with pleading eyes. "I never wanted you to face this alone and I'm here to amends…If you let me."

You couldn't say more as the bell finally rang. You could feel your heart pounding hard against your chest and you squeezed Lena's hand.

"Ready to meet him?" You managed to said.

"I am." Lena nodded.

You headed inside the building with the rest of the parents, ready to pick your son. You reached her classroom in no time, greeting his teacher and asking if your son had behaved during class. His teacher was all smiles when she told you your son had been in nothing but his best behavior. Then she called your son and you watched from the door as he stepped out of his little chair, rushing towards you. You picked him up, holding him in your arms, and thanked the teacher before turning around to leave.

You asked him about his day and the things he had learned that day. He replied with nothing but excitement and you were happy to hear him.

"Hey, I bring a friend today with me." You said after he had finished. "Would you like to meet her?"

"Yeah." He replied with a smile.

You walked through the hallway and there, sitting in a bench, was Lena waiting patiently for you. She rose from her seat once she saw you approach and her face couldn't hide her awe. As if she was seeing a true miracle, she didn't know what to do or what to say, until you were close enough.

"Hi." She said wearing that beautiful smile of hers.

"Hi." Your son responded with his little voice.

"My name is Lena, nice o meet you."

"You're pretty." He said, making you and Lena chuckle.

"What do we say when we meet new people?" You reminded your son.

"I'm (Y/S/N). Nice to meet you, Lena."

"Good boy." You said kissing his temple.

Lena took a look at him, seeing herself in that little face and there was no denying he was hers and yours. A pang of regret struck her heart for all the years she had not known about him. If she had only called after you, if she had called you, if she had tried to contact you sooner rather than later, how different things would have been for you three. But she was there, with you and your son, and that was all that mattered to her.

This time, she promised herself, she was going to do whatever that was in her hands to make it up to you and she wasn't going to waste another moment.

[mymelodymia]

Hey bby how r u? I got a request cause my emotions have been wonky asf can you write where Mike has a younger sis like 13-14 basically going through a lot and is getting bullied at school for not being the "prettiest" being teased and picked on constantly for being the "weird" one, shy, mostly to themselves hard to make friends etc. Iv gone through that and it sucks :(

Uhh fluffy lots of comfort mike lowkey beats the shot outta them. Anyways ty 😊 have a good one hun 🩷

Bullys // Mike Schmidt x sister!reader

**not a ship**

Summary: you're being bullied and don't say anything,

Warnings: bullying, bruises, Mike beating the shit out of some middle-schoolers,

Age: 13

A/N: hi baby! I'm doing good, I hope you like the way this came out 🥰

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

You had been being bullied for a while now. You kept it a secret for a while, most nights you cried yourself to sleep. What did you do to them? You hadn't done anything to them, they just did it to be little pains in the ass.

You tried to make friends but no one liked you and you didn't know why. You got good grades, you helped people in class, and you were literally the sweetest person in the world.

One day you couldn't take it anymore, you were riding home on your bike when you were suddenly hit the ground. Some kids had pushed you, (assholes) you skined your knees on the road, and Injured your palms from catching yourself.

They all took turns kicking you, before an old man walked out in a robe, yelling at them to get off his lawn (sorry)

You were badly injured from the force of the kicks. You could barely stand back up. You had been able to cover up most of your bruises with hoodies and sweaters, but you couldn't take it anymore

You broke down crying on your bike, sobbing loudly. You somehow had the strength to slowly peddle the bike and got home two hours after your curfew. It was now sundown, the street lights had turned on not long ago.

Mike was extremely worried about you. You had been very distant and quiet over the past few months. You spent most of your time in your room. And you oddly always left food on your plate. He didn't know why, he assumed it was connected to puberty in a way.

But when he saw you biking down the street, he let out a sigh of relief, but soon turned angry.

"Where have you been!? Do you know how late it i-" he yelled, pausing when he saw your tear-stained cheeks and puffy red eyes. "What happened? W-who did.....whats wrong?" He asked holding one of your shoulders

You slowly took of the jacket you were using to hide the cuts and bruises all along your body. He gasped and gently caressed a few down your arm.

You sniffed and he hugged you. Wrapping his strong arms around you securely. "Who did this to you?" He asked as you sobbed into him. "Y/n...please tell me who it was, i need names." He said in a soft tone.

You slowly whispered every single person who ever hurt you. And that took a while since practically everyone in the school was bullying you.

He listened carefully, remembering everything you said. He carried you inside, sitting on the couch, he allowed you to crawl into his lap and cling to him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, he held you to his chest. He couldn't belive someone would hurt his baby sister. This disbelief quickly turned into anger.

Filled with rage, he slowly set you down and took his car keys and put on his coat. You didn't have the strength to follow him, so you curled up into a ball and sat there for a good hour.

Mike returned with a small bruise on his cheek, just under his eye. Let's just say that he took care of them 😈

He picked you up like a baby, cradling you in his arms. He walked you over to his room and plopped you down, forgetting about your injuries.

When you winced in pain he immediately apologized, "oh im so sorry, i forgot, im sorry baby.." he said taking you his arms again, kissing the top of your head.

He walked out for a moment and returned with a tube of something, he applied a small amount to his cheek in a mirror, before coming over to you.

He rubbed it gently into your skin, being sure not to hurt you.

You thanked him when he was finished, he set the tube down on his night table, he climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you gently. You rested your head on his chest softly.

"Mike."

"Hmm" he responded, waiting Patiently for you to continue. "They have been doing this for a few months now, they'd call me fat and ugly all the time and whenever i would laugh they'd say its ugly." You kept going on and on about what they did to you for a few more minutes.

"Y/n, baby, you are not fat, and your laugh is one of my favorite things to hear, dont let that stuff get to you okay? I love you, and since i haven't heard you laugh in so long i would definitely tickle you right now, but i might hurt you so, just wait until your bruises are gone" he said with an evil smirk on his face. You whimpered, giggling at the same time, you snuggled into his chest.

He ran his fingers through your dark curly locks, rocking you back and forth, he sung you a lullaby to lull you to sleep. This was one of the only nights were he didn't dream abt Garrett.

This was a good excuse.

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

Tags

None :((((((

[callsign-magnolia]

Undiagnosed // Ch. 15

MATURE CONTENT 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents, smut.

Word Count: 6.4k

Chapter 14 | Masterlist

We rode to Bob’s house in silence. I looked out the window, tears streaming down my cheeks. He had to know what he said hurt, he had to. The way he kissed me last night, there was something there, I know it. Unless I was the only one that felt it. That thought alone made more tears stream down my cheeks. I managed to stop the tears a few minutes before we got to Bob’s place, I just hoped my cheeks weren’t red and splotchy. As we pulled in the driveway Bob stepped outside, smiling at us. I slid out before Jake even cut the truck off and walked up to Bob. I was a little surprised when he opened his arms for a hug but didn’t hesitate to step into them. He hugged me tightly as I squeezed him in return. “You okay?” He whispered and I pulled back, giving him a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He eyed me for a second before turning to Jake. “Finally willing to part with it are you?” Jake asked, looking at Bob with a smirk. “Yeah. At least it’ll be in good hands.” I furrowed my brows in confusion as Bob handed me some keys. “It was built in ‘01 and I've been the only person to own it.” He said pointing to an older truck that Jake was now leaning on. “Like it?” Jake asked and my brows shot up. 

“Oh no! No, I can’t accept this.” I said as I handed the keys back to Bob. “Too bad,” Jake said as he walked over taking the keys himself. “It’s already paid for.” My jaw dropped and I gaped at him as he opened the drivers side door and climbed in. He started it up and the truck roared to life and he grinned. “It sounds great.” Jake said and slid out. “Well, go on. It’s yours.” I stared at him for a moment, challenging him but he had that stupid smug grin on his face and that just pissed me off even more. I snatched the keys from him, huffing before I climbed in. I sat down and looked to my right, scoffing. “If you’re such a genius, why did you buy a straight shift?” I asked and he raised a brow. “Do you not know how to drive a straight shift?” He asked. “My parents never taught me how to think for myself. What makes you think they taught me to drive a straight shift?” I snapped and he reeled back, looking at me confused. I know when we had our blow up when he came home, we talked about me getting angry with him but I think I have a legitimate reason. 

“Well I can teach you.” Bob said and I sighed. “School starts in two weeks.” He nodded. “You’ll learn by then.” He responded. “Let’s take her for a drive.” Jake shut my door and he and Bob came around and slid across the bench seat from the passenger side. “I don’t know if this is gonna work.” I said and Jake chuckled. “I’ll help you. Now, the clutch is on the far left. I suggest only using your left foot on it and using your right between the gas and the brake.” I situated my feet as he said. “Okay, press the clutch and the brake.” I did and he took my hand, the warmth of it engulfing me. He set it on the gear shift, wrapping his around mine. “The reverse is gonna be in the bottom right. So, we gotta come out of neutral and move down.” He did and slid the gear over to the right. “There. This is reverse. So when you release the parking brake and back up, let off the break and slowly come off the clutch. Not too fast, you’re not going anywhere fast.” I nodded and brought my foot off the break, looking in all the mirrors before releasing the clutch. I backed out and hit the break and clutch. “Now into first.” I looked at the top of the gear shift and shifted myself, causing Jake to smile at me. “Now come off the clutch.” I did and the truck died. “What’d I do?” I panicked, worried I’d already messed it up. “I should’ve told you to not come off the clutch so fast. Let’s try again.” After a while I was able to make it down the road and back with little issue. 

We got out and I sighed. “I just don’t know how I’m gonna learn in time for school.” I said and Bob chuckled, tossing his arm over my shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you know.” Bob used to be so shy around me, but I came to find that once you got to know him he was as friendly as anyone else, funny too. “I have to buy scrubs and books for school by next Tuesday. If you have time then maybe you can teach me while we go do that?” I asked and he nodded. “Sounds like a plan. I’m free Monday.” I smiled at him. “Great.” At my words Jake walked over, handing me his keys. “You take my truck and I’ll take yours?” He asked and I nodded. “YOu guys wanna go get dinner?” Bob asked and we shook our heads. “No, Katie said she was cooking tonight.” Jake motioned to me and I nodded. “Well maybe another night then.” Bob said and I was quick to agree. “Sure, maybe we can go on Tuesday after we get my stuff.” I said and he nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” Jake looked between us but I just pulled Bob in one final hug before heading to Jake’s truck. “See you at home.” I said, shutting the door as I adjusted the seat. I didn’t want to be near him right now. I needed distance. I backed out of Bob’s driveway and started for the house. I had tears streaming down my face again, and I was getting angry with myself. 

Angry for letting myself feel things for him. I knew better, even though he kissed me, I shouldn’t have let myself feel these things. You’re hard to love.  I decided to crank up the radio, hoping the rock music would drown out my mother’s voice. It was loud and I had the windows down as I coasted down the road. It was nice and by the time I got home, I felt a little better. I got inside and shut the door, deciding to preoccupy myself with dinner. I started on the asparagus and the potatoes, putting them on the same pan before seasoning them, when Jake came in. “So… what do you think?” He asked. “About the truck?” He nodded, looking nervous as he leaned on the doorframe. I put the pan in the oven and turned to him. “I think I’ll like it just fine when I learn to drive it.” He pursed his lips, nodding. “But I’m really grateful, Jake. You’ve done a lot for me and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay you for any of it.” He gave me a smile. Not a smirk, a smile before walking closer and pulling me into a hug, which caught me off guard. “I don’t want you to repay it, Katie.” 

I didn’t hug him back, just stepped away and started dinner. “I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.” I could tell he was looking at me, in what way, I didn’t know. I wasn’t turning around to find out. I heard him walk away and it’s like I could finally breathe. I hated all this. I should’ve known better than to kiss him. We live together and he just got out of a serious relationship. It was a stupid move and now I have to deal with the regret of it. Once dinner was ready, Jake set the table before I could and helped me put the food on the table. As soon as we started eating Jake moaned, the same way he did last night. “God! You’re such a good cook!” He exclaimed. I couldn’t help the small smile that came to my face at the compliment. “There’s that pretty smile.” He said, gently nudging my cheek. We went through most of dinner in silence and Jake cleaned up the kitchen while I retreated to my room. The only other time I came out was to shower and then I went back to my room, shutting the door. I read most of the night before drifting off with my book on my chest. Saturday and Sunday were rough. Jake was teaching me to drive the truck, and I was doing good at first but then we started on hills. 

“DAMMIT!” I screamed in frustration. “What the fuck am I doing wrong?” I asked him just after I killed it for the eighth time. “Okay, deep breath.” He said and I turned on him. “Don’t tell me to take a deep fucking breath.” I snapped and he nodded. “It’s all about timing and it takes a while to get it. It took me months to learn.” He said and I groaned, leaning back on the bench seat. “I don’t have months to learn. I have two weeks!” He took a deep breath, releasing it through his nose. “I know that. That’s why I’m trying to teach you, but you can’t learn if every little things sets you off!” His voice grew louder and I sat quietly. I know he’s right, but it’s so hard. All this anger and frustration builds in me and I just explode. “Now one more time.” He said sternly. This time I gently pressed the gas, let the RPM’s get between two thousand and three thousand, then quickly downshifted. The truck took off and we finally made it up the hill. “Thank god.” I said as I took a left around the corner and went to pull into the driveway but Jake stopped me. “Again.” I could’ve cried. Needless to say, we didn’t get back up the hill again for a while. 

I was thankful for Monday because Jake was gone all day at work and when he came home, he was exhausted, Mav worked them really hard. Then on Tuesday Bob showed up to go with me to get all my school stuff. I made my way for the door and just as I grabbed my purse I heard Jake from the kitchen. “Don’t forget this!” He said, coming over and handing me his credit card. “Oh, are you sure you just don’t wanna give me cash?” A set amount of money. “No, books may cost more than you anticipated and you may need more than two sets of scrubs.” He said, holding the silver card out to me. I looked up the books on the bookstore website and wrote down all the prices, so I knew what the total should be. “Jake-” “Take it. I’d feel better knowing you had it just in case.” He took my hand, laying the card in it and closing my fingers around it. I just huffed and agreed, grabbing my wallet from my purse and putting it inside. “When will you be back?” He asked as I opened the door, Bob standing against the porch railing. “Uh, I’m not sure.” I told him. 

“Ready?” I asked, turning to Bob and he nodded. “I think I should be asking you that.” He said and I chuckled. “Yes.” We started for my truck and Jake called out to us. “Hey!” We turned towards him, his eyes shifting between us. “Go easy on her.” Anger flared inside me. I don’t need anyone going easy on me. “Sure thing.” Bob replied and we got in. As soon as both of our doors shut I turned to him. “I don’t-” “I don’t intend to go easy on you. Now, show me what you know so far.” With that I cranked the truck and backed out of the driveway. We started down the road, thankfully going the opposite direction of that damned hill. “You’re a little jerky, but I think you’re doing good so far. The longer you drive, the smoother you’ll get.” He said and it felt good to know that I didn’t completely suck so far. Once we hit the freeway it became easier, I didn’t have to shift as much and soon we arrived on campus. We walked into the bookstore and I sighed, feeling overwhelmed by everything. “You got a list?” Bob asked and I nodded, pulling it out of my purse and showing him. 

“Which editions do you need?” He asked. I sighed. “Fuck. I didn’t think about different editions.” I muttered. “Let me pull up the email.” I said, digging out my phone. “You guys need any help?” A woman asked as she came over. “Uh, yeah.” Bob said. “First year nursing program.” She smiled and motioned us to follow her. We did as I still searched for the email before Bob waved a paper in my face. I leaned back, blinking a few times so my eyes could adjust. “List of books?” I asked. “Your books.” It had a picture of the covers and everything. “This makes everything so much easier.” I said. “Most of the books are over on the fifth aisle.” The lady said and I thanked her before we wandered over to the aisle. It was pretty easy to pick them all out and soon I had them all. “Do you need notebooks or anything?” He asked, motioning to the displays of pens, pencils and notebooks. “No, They’re more expensive here. I can go to Walmart and get them for super cheap.” We made it to the counter and all the books came out to the exact total I added it up to be. I checked out and we carried them out to the truck. “I hope you don’t have to carry all of these to school everyday.” Bob said and I shrugged. “Knowing my luck, I probably will.” 

Once we left campus we headed for the scrub shop that was recommended. I was shocked to find it not busy when we walked in, just one woman at the counter and another sifting through the racks. “Is there a specific color you have to wear?” I nodded. “Royal Blue.” With that we spent an hour flipping through the racks, grabbing all different brands. Once I went to try them on, Bob sat outside waiting for me. It didn’t take too long and I left with four sets of the brightly colored scrubs. “That was more complicated than I thought it would be.” I said. We could only have a specific style of scrubs then I had to leave them with the shop owner so she could embroider the name of the school on the left breast so I only left with my pants. “Wanna get dinner?” Bob asked and I nodded. “Where?” “There’s this great diner over by base. Then when we’re done, we can go to Walmart and get some more of your supplies.” I nodded and we headed that way. We were almost there when we got to a hill. They aren’t a problem unless I have to stop, and this hill had a red light at the top. “Come on. Come on.” I whispered, hoping the light would stay green long enough for me to get through. 

But it turned yellow and the car in front of me hit the brakes. “Dammit.” I muttered and Bob looked at me. “Trouble with hills?” I nodded. “I got it a few times but I mostly fail.” I was panicking because there were a bunch of cars behind me. There’s never anyone behind me on the hill in Jake’s neighborhood. What if I stall? “Don’t panic. Just watch the light.” I did as he said and as soon as it turned green, he spoke. “Hit the gas.” I did and as soon as the RPM’s were high enough I downshifted and we took off. “I did it!” I said loudly and he laughed at me. “See, just remain calm and it’ll all work out.” As soon as we topped the hill we pulled in the diner parking lot and got out. “So what’s going on with you and Jake? You seemed… off when you came to get the truck.” He said as we sat down. “It’s a long boring story.” I replied, not really wanting to talk about it. Just the thought irritated me. Of him just deciding to take it all back. “What’d he do?” He raised a brow at me. “What makes you think it’s something he did?” I asked. 

“It’s Bagman. He always does something.” He replied, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “He kissed me.” I muttered. But he heard me, his eyes widening. “He did what?” He asked and I nodded. “When I found out that I got into the nursing program. Or really, I kissed him but he’s the one that kept doing it. We were intoxicated and he said we should wait till we’re sober. But the next day he came in saying we should just forget about it. Pretend it never happened.”  My gaze dropped to my lap as Bob sighed. “Katie. I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “Don’t be. I should’ve known better. Just because he’s nice to me, doesn't mean he has feelings.” I responded. “You’re right about that in general. But I think you’re wrong about him.” He said. “Oh, don’t you start too! Apparently after Bradley’s birthday party he talked to Jake the next morning and insinuated that he had feelings for me, which Jake denied.” Bob chuckled. “You know why he called Rooster?” He asked and I shook my head. “He was jealous.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Jake does not have feelings for me!” I exclaimed. “He ditched his girlfriend-” “We made plans prior to his date.” I cut him off. “She told him if he left, it was over. He didn’t think twice. Got up, took her flowers and went back to you.” I looked at him stunned. 

“Those were her flowers?” I asked quietly and he nodded. “He said he snatched them right off the table.” I sat back in the booth. “I don’t know if I should be offended. Being given another girls flowers.” I muttered. “He literally snatched them from her. I’d say be flattered.” Bob said and I sighed. “Can we not talk about this anymore?” I asked and he nodded. “I still don’t think he has feelings for me anymore.” I told him and he smiled at me. “You’re wrong.” He said, turning his head down to look at the menu. We ate and then went to Walmart, getting more supplies before he took me back to Jake’s. “I can’t believe you tripped over your own feet!” Bob chuckled as we walked in. “I’m clumsy!” I responded with a laugh. I had tripped in Walmart and fell flat on the floor. “You’re usually in heels and walk fine!” I huffed, setting the bags on the table as Jake came out. “Look. I am vertically challenged in flat shoes!” He laughed loudly at my words and even Jake smiled. “Have fun?” He asked and I nodded. “We did. We got all the things I needed, had dinner and then we got more school supplies from Walmart!” I said as I pulled out a notebook. He nodded. “How do you feel about the truck?” He asked. “I’m still not great but I’m feeling more confident about it now.” He nodded with a small smile. “Do you need anything else for school?” He asked, looking at the pack of highlighters I got. “Uh yeah, I need a bag, stethoscope, and they suggested a good water bottle.” I said and he chuckled. “You’ll probably be too busy to actually stop and drink something.” He took the list from me, looking it over. “You’re gonna need a laptop.” He said and I shook my head. “I’ll get on just fine without one.” I told him. 

I spent the next two weeks getting everything ready. Natasha bought me a brand new backpack, light gray and it had plenty of room for all my stuff. Bradley even bought me a lunch box, saying tha hospital food is gross and I’d be better off taking my own food. The night before my first day I made sure to do things like shower early. That way I had plenty of time to read and wind down for bed. I was about to lay down when Jake yelled for me. I walked downstairs and he smiled at me. “I don’t like that look on your face.” I told him and he motioned me closer. “Come ‘ere. I got you a few things.” I stepped closer and he handed me a long box. I had a feeling I knew what it was, so I ripped the paper off and opened the box. Inside was a Tiffany blue stethoscope. I gasped as I pulled it out, admiring it. “This is gorgeous!” He smiled at me, grabbing the chest piece. “And look.” He turned it a few times then handed it to me. There was an engraving on it. My name, between two hearts. “Oh, Jake.”

It was a whisper but I stared down at the gift, my heart thudding in my chest. It was such a small gesture but it meant so much. “You like it?” He asked and I nodded, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you.” I whispered in his ear. He squeezed me tightly before letting go. “I have one more gift for you.” He motioned to the box on the table. I smiled, grabbing the paper and ripping it off, my face falling when I saw what was in it. “Jake. I told you I would make do without a laptop.” I told him and he sighed. “I know. But it will make school easier on you.” I shook my head. “You can take it back.” He shook his head. “No.” I wanted to scream at him, throw something. “Yes!” “Why?” He demanded. “You have let me live in your home! You bought me a phone, books, clothes, a fucking truck!” I yelled at him. “And what have I done? Eat your food-” “Make meals when I’m exhausted. I’ve had more time to do what I want because you constantly clean even though you don’t have to. You keep me from getting lonely. Katie, I told you I didn’t want you paying me back.”

“It’s not a matter of if you want me to or not. It’s the fact that I feel like I’m freeloading off you. Jake, you’ve spent thousands of dollars on me! I would’ve been just fine taking a bus or hell, walking even.” He just smiled at me and I wanted to smack him. “I wanted to spend that money.” He said. “Where the hell are you getting all this money anyway? Money you can just throw away? The navy doesn’t pay you that much.” He just chuckled. “Darlin’, I’m a fighter pilot. I make more money than you think. Besides, I’m good with money. I put back a lot.” “YOUR SAVINGS?! JAKE! Don’t spend your savings on me!” He just chuckled again and I was starting to hate the sound. “Didn’t make a dent in it, darlin’.” He kissed my head and walked upstairs to go to bed. I groaned, setting the half unwrapped box back on the table and followed. He went into his room and I went into mine. I had to calm down, get a good night's sleep. So I curled up in bed with my book, reading till my eyes drooped and after a few minutes of fighting sleep to finish the chapter I put the book down. I rolled over, facing the window, the moonlight streaming in as I finally drifted off.  

By the time I woke up the next morning, Jake was gone. Which I was grateful for. I was already stressed and I didn’t need him asking questions or telling me to calm down. Once I did my hair and makeup, I slipped into my scrubs. They were more comfortable than I expected. I put my tennis shoes on, tying them before grabbing my already packed bag and heading downstairs. I made my coffee, filled the giant water bottle I bought. I should have plenty for the day. I tossed my lunch into my lunchbox and went to grab my bag. I saw the laptop sitting on the table, unwrapped, with a sticky note on top. ‘Charged and ready for your day. Please take it.’ I wasn’t going to, but I caved. It could make school easier so I grabbed it, placing it into the pocket of my backpack and grabbed my truck keys. I was practically shaking as I drove to school, but thankfully keeping both hands busy made it easier. 

I walked into class half an hour early. There were two other girls in there and I made my way to the front, taking my seat. I pulled out my notebooks, pens, pencils and highlighters, setting everything up. Then I pulled out the laptop, turning it on. I got the basics set up on it with my email just as someone sat next to me. “Boy am I glad there was one more seat up here.” The girl to my left said. I just smiled at her, feeling even more nervous now. Once it was set up I put it away and pulled out the folder that had stuff like the syllabus in it. “I like those highlighters. Where’d you get them?” She asked and I looked at her, following her pen that was pointing at the pack of pastel highlighters. “Uh, walmart.” I said quietly, looking down at my notebook. “I’m Brook.” She held out her hand and I gently took it. “Katie.” She smiled at me and opened her mouth to speak when a voice from behind us spoke up. “Good morning ladies!” A chipper voice spoke up and as I looked around, I realized this class was in fact, all women. The blonde woman took her spot up front at a tall desk with a monitor on it. “I am Rebecca Ford. I have a masters in nursing education but before that my focus was on Orthopaedics. You can call me Mrs. Ford, Rebecca, but most students just call me Becca. In this class you’ll be learning the basics. Your professors will rotate out of the room, it’s easier than dragging you from one room to the next. This orientation will last two weeks and you will start your clinicals in October. While you are in orientation, you will be in scrubs. When you go to clinicals, you will be in scrubs. But after orientation, when you have class you can wear whatever you like, as long as it is appropriate. I don’t want another two-thousand-eight bikini case.” We all chuckled and she grinned. “Kid you not. We had a girl come in wearing a bikini, no cover-up all because she was going on a boat after class. Shorts, tank tops, crop tops it doesn’t matter. I just don’t want to see boobs or ass.” With that she kicked off the class and I struggled to keep up in my notes and by the end of the day my hand ached.

I drove home, flexing my hand but feeling good. I missed a few things in my notes but Brook said she’d take pictures of hers and send them to me. I walked into the house and Jake immediately rushed over to me. “So? How’d it go?” He asked and I bumped into the wall. “Woah! Ease up!”He immediately back up, taking my bag. “It was good. A lot of information but I got most of it.” I told him as he set my bag on the table. “You think you’re gonna like it?” I nodded. “I really do. I’m gonna go change out of these scrubs.” I rushed upstairs, slipping on some shorts and the sweatshirt Jake gave me. “Got any homework?” I nodded. “Yeah. A lot of intro stuff but I can do it pretty quick.” I told him and he nodded. “Want me to start dinner?” He asked and I nodded. That sandwich I had earlier barely held me over till I got home. Thankfully we have a break area with a microwave so I can heat up leftovers. So tomorrow I won’t be so hungry. I did the online homework given to us then I reorganized my notes with the ones Brook sent me. “Make any friends?” He asked as he set the plate of hot food in front of me. “This one girl, Brook. I don’t know about friends, but she’s already sent me her notes because I missed some. So I think she’ll be a big help.” He nodded. “Maybe you can record your lectures on your phone. That way if you miss anything you can go back and listen. Plus hearing it over and over will help you to remember it” I nodded, shoving broccoli into my mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat so fast.” 

“I’m hungry!” I said. “That sandwich wasn’t much.” He chuckled. “Well we’ll make sure you have plenty of food tomorrow.” And he did. I sat down with Brook and another girl, Annie outside and they gaped when I opened the container holding my food. “Did you make that?” Brook asked as we sat on the grass. “Uh, no. Jake did.” I said, taking a bite. “Ooh, whose Jake? You’re boyfriend?” She wasn’t teasing, but she seemed genuinely interested. But her question reminded me how I needed to keep my feelings guarded. “Uh, no. He’s uh… he’s a roommate.” I said. “But you have feelings for him.” Brook and I both looked at Annie who had a look of indifference on her face. “No.” I said quickly. “Yes you do.” I opened my mouth to snap at her but she cut me off. “Katie. I’ve been in your exact situation before. I lived with a guy who I had deep feelings for. In the end, I got my heart broken. Just be careful.” I shook my head. “Jake wouldn’t hurt me.” That was a lie. He already did by telling me to forget about our night of kissing. “He probably wouldn’t on purpose. But you may tell him and he may think he’s letting you down easy. But it still hurts.”

Annie’s words sat with me all week. So much that they’ve distracted me in class. I’ve been coming home every night, listening to the lectures again and reorganizing my notes. I was sitting on my bed, laptop open, papers spread everywhere as a knock sounded from my door. I looked up to see Jake leaning on the doorframe. “Hey.” I muttered. “Hi.” He said, walking closer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work so hard. Never for your law classes.” I nodded. “Because I actually want this.” He nodded, looking around. “Did you… need something?” I asked, finally looking up at him. “Oh, uh… I did have a question.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay. What is it?” I didn’t have time for a run around. I have to know this stuff, our first exam is slowly creeping closer. “There’s a… naval ball coming up.” I nodded, half listening as I read over my notes. “I was wondering if you’d go with me?” My head snapped up to him. “Absolutely not.” I said and stood from my bed. “Stand in the same building as my father? No thank you! In case you’ve forgotten, if he so much as sees me he’ll pull some shit.” He held his hands out, palms up as if to say, ‘there’s more’. “But that’s the beautiful thing. You’re father has a meeting with the other admirals that evening and it could go on for hours.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “He could still show up. Plus I don’t wanna deal with Coop. He’ll tell my father I’m with you and so could anyone else.” He shook his head. “Everyone is sure you left of your own free will. No one is looking for you and Mav banned Coop and Richardson from attending.” I shook my head, sitting back down. “I’m still not going.” He sighed, looking down at me. “Well, it’s in three weeks if you change your mind.” I hummed, highlighting some things as he walked away. This was good. Even if I thought it was safe this would keep the distance I needed to get over my feelings for him. 

That Saturday I went over to Bradley’s, him and Natasha eager to hear about my first week of class. “You think you’re gonna do well?” Bradley asked as he sipped the wine Natasha brought. I nodded. “If I can stop having distractions I will.” Nat raised a brow. “Distractions?” I nodded. “Jake asked me to go with him to that fucking ball.” I said, irritation growing in me. “Your father won’t be there.” Bradley said and I nodded. “I know. That’s not the only reason.” I told him. “Then what is?” I sighed, debating on telling them. “Is it the kiss?” My head snapped to Nat. “You know?!” I asked and she nodded. “He was all giddy the next morning. Talking about how  great he felt and what happened.” My eyebrows shot up. “Then why did he tell me that we just needed to pretend it never happened and forget about it?” They both sat up straight. “He what?” Bradley asked. “Yeah. Came in from work and it was the first thing he said to me.” Bradley groaned, falling back into the couch. “What a dumbass.” Nat nodded. “He really is.” She sighed. “He probably said that because when he was going on about it, I told him he needed to make sure he wasn’t using you to get over Kelly. I wanted to make sure he didn’t drag your heart through the mud to make himself feel better. Not that he would hurt you on purpose, I don’t think he’d realize it.” Bradley nodded. “The man is oblivious.” 

“So you’re telling me that he didn’t regret it?” I asked and Nat shook her head. “Oh I doubt he regrets it. He probably just wanted to make sure he wasn’t gonna hurt you.” Bradley nodded again. “You could go home and kiss him right now and I bet he wouldn’t resist.” Throughout the night Bradley’s words rang in my head and when I got home I sauntered up to the front door. I was warm and everything was fuzzy, even with my glasses. I probably shouldn’t have driven and I realized that as I leaned against the wall in the entryway. I hung my purse up but stopped when I heard something from the living room. “Fuck.” It was a breathy moan. I peaked around the corner, half expecting to see Kelly. But I was shocked to find Jake alone, shirtless, boxers pulled down as he pumped his thick cock. I squeezed my thighs, excitement pooling in my belly. My panties were damp almost instantly at the thought of him between my legs. “Katie.” He moaned. Right now, I wanted the heavy weight of his cock on my tongue.

I stepped out from around the corner and watched him for a moment. He was slowly pumping himself, as if to drag out his high. I took three slow steps forward before he looked at me and jumped. “Katie!” He looked like a deer in headlights as I walked closer. “I-I uh-I don’t-what are you doing?” I was standing before him before I kneeled down on my knees before him. He stared at me in shock. “You fantasize about me between your legs. I fantasize about your cock on my tongue.” Before he could do anything I reached forward, taking him in my hand. He was large, a prominent vein running down the underside. I stroked him a few times before leaning forward, resting the swollen head against my tongue. He was like velvet, smooth as I wrapped my lips around him. “Katie.” He moaned, hand resting on my cheek as I looked up at him through my lashes. “Are you sure?” My only response was taking him deeper in my mouth. I slowly took him deeper until he nudged the back of my throat and I gagged. Jake’s hand disappeared into my hair and I used my hand to pump the rest of him. “God. How are you so good at this?” He asked and I pulled back. “I read a lot.” I held my tongue out, letting saliva fall onto his cock before I took him back into my mouth. 

I hollowed my cheeks and he thrust into my mouth, hardly able to contain himself. “Darlin’. You feel so good around me.” He moaned and I had to admit, most girls complain about blowjobs but I’m thoroughly enjoying it. I took the plunge and buried my face in his pelvis, deep throating him as I nuzzled the short hairs at the base of his cock. I reached up, cupping his balls and he jumped. “I’m about to cum down your throat if you don’t stop.” I smirked to myself and swallowed, throat constricting around him and he groaned, gripping my hair a little tighter. “Do it again.” It was a growl and I happily did it again. I bobbed him in and out of my mouth, the noises coming from me were pornographic and obscene but his moaning grew louder and his grip on my hair tightened. “Take me so well. You like sucking on my cock?” I pulled him out to the tip and nodded before burying my face in his pelvis again and swallowing. “Fuck!” Without warning hot spurts of cum hit the back of my throat. I pulled him out, letting it shoot out onto my tongue. His body was tense and my nails dug into his thighs. Once I was done, I pulled back, holding out my tongue for him to see his load before swallowing. “Katie, I-” I cut him off by wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss, licking into his mouth and allowing him to taste himself on my tongue. I let him go, room spinning as I stood straight. “Goodnight Lieutenant.” With that I walked away, stumbling up the steps and falling face first onto my bed where I fell asleep without changing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @wkndwlff @alltimereverie @cherrycola27 @daisydaisygoose @rosiahills22 @deanoheartspie @cornishkat @high-speed-r @fogle97 @mygyn @ohgodnotagainn @emma8895eb @senjoritanana @kmc1989 @sandaltoesocks @mayhemmanaged @dempy @itsdesiree86 @sunderland-6 @jstarr86 @brooke-stinson @rachkon @topguncultleader @bethbunnyy @topgun-imagines @clancycucumber230 @seitmai @kkrenae @djs8891 @shanimallina87 @wildxwidow @eugene-emt-roe @hisredheadedgoddess28 @littlewhiterose @formulapierre @wade-wilsons-chew-toy @bethabear12 @halstead-severide-fan @gg-trini @memeorydotcom @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker @inthestars-underthesun @praline357 @fanboyluvr @greaser9902 @felinegrate @lemmons1998

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Pomegranate Lips Ch 1: Morning Cup of Black & Blush ~Sub!Larissa Weems xFem Fallen Angel!Reader

New series! Pomegranate lips, Fallen Angel/Demon reader- Larissa falling for teacher!reader; also like a point that appearances aren’t reality, that reader isn’t necessarily evil…

Link to Part 2… & Part 3

Mommy…Master List

Prompt-List

Warnings: sub!larissa, demon!reader, more to come

Beginnings of a series…

Enjoy (;

Larissa had gone to the Weathervane like any other morning to grab her regular, like any morning.

This time with 2 shots of espresso because she had just found out that Morticia Addams’ daughter would be joining Nevermore in the upcoming semester…

She was waiting for her coffee, when someone entered the shop.

Clicking of heels, confident walk, and dark pomegranate lips…

Larissa felt magnetically attracted to the mysterious woman who had just entered the coffee shop. She wasn’t from Jericho, that Larissa could be sure of…

Swaying hips, light aura, yet a seemingly dark soul lurking underneath…

Larissa gulped. She didn’t get intimidated often but damn…

“I’d like a coffee please. Black.” you ordered at the register.

Dark color scheme, authoritative voice, oddly outcast like…

You walked over to the pick up side of the counter where your eyes raked over a tall, poised, blonde woman. Aesthetic almost completely opposite from your own…

Yet… you couldn’t shake the feeling that your souls were flipped. She appeared dark and dominant when her soul screamed light and soft…

“You must be new to Jericho.” Larissa matter of factly stated, trying to keep her voice steady and her legs from the slightest tremble.

A light smirk graced your lips, making Larissa’s stomach roll over, “Just stopping in.” you told her.

“Really? Where are you headed?”

“Hell.” you said with a wink and a flash of a wicked smile.

“You’re an outcast?” Larissa asked, becoming more and more entrenched in this conversation.

“Excuse me?” You quipped back.

Larissa’s face went red.

“No, sorry let me explain.” Larissa quickly tried to recover from her slip of words, which you find absolutely amusing, “My name is Larissa Weems and I run a school called Nevermore, which is for outcasts- outcasts meaning people who aren’t fully human…”

“Ah I see…” you mused, “Well then, Larissa…” you played with her name in her mouth, you decided at that moment that you wanted to keep it in there…

“I am indeed an outcast. Daughter of Lilith, Y/N Black.” you said with a smirk as you observed Larissa having absolutely forgotten about your coffee.

“Your coffee.” You indicated to the counter, watching her blush in embarrassment at having forgotten.

“Ah yes…! Well Ms. Black, If you are interested, we could always use another teacher at Nevermore.” Larissa said, cheeks flushed, hoping to dear god that you’d say yes…

“What’s in it for me?” you purred, already ready to pounce on the idea, to pounce on the marvelous woman in front of you…

This caught Larissa even more off guard. “Um… I’m sorry…?” She almost chocked on her coffee at your comment.

You stepped into her personal space, and lowered your tone, “How about…” you mused, while tracing the neck outline of Larissa’s dress, “A coffee date with the principal of Nevermore?”

Larissa gulped yet again.

“Staff relationships are…” Larissa was trying desperately to keep herself together, “they are frowned upon…”

You grinned, Larissa staring at your luscious deep red lips, “Well… I’ve never been one for following the rules…” you quipped back.

Larissa breath faltered, your presence was doing worlds to her…

“Ok then. If you come work at Nevermore, I’ll agree to one coffee date.”

“Excellent.” You purred and left with your coffee and wink towards the mess of a woman you were leaving behind.

Larissa looked at her coffee and saw a number scribbled onto it with a winking face. She blushed again.

God, that woman was going to be her unraveling…

~~~

Part 2 right here 😏

And Part 3 here…

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[yallthemwitches]

A Quiet Moment

Sirius thought he was going to get a moment to relax alone in the dorms for once--but all the best laid plans...

For Jily Kinktober Day 9: Accidental Voyeurism.

I thought about resting on my laurels and just posting a excerpt of Ch. 16 of Catch the Wind ( or any of my Snape POV jily fics basically...), but then I've also been toying with a James/Lily/Sirius story for a while---so consider this a soft launch (but don't get too excited---this is very much still just a jily smut fic) ;)

AO3 here

Sirius didn’t get quiet moments often. He did it to himself really, filling his days with endless pranks, music, banter—anything possible to drown out the otherwise existential dread that haunted him in a nearly endless cycle. Noise, chaos, and sarcasm were what he was good at—being silent was not. 

He sat on his bed, completely knackered. The full moon the night before had been a hell of a time, complete with a loose Moony wreaking havoc throughout the forbidden forest. He owed it to himself to shirk off classes, opting for the first time in his life to relax a bit. He wondered if he was doing a good job as he tried to focus on his book, barely keeping his eyes open.

Pounding feet echoed from the stairwell, rousing him from near sleep before the door crashed open. A curtain covered his view, but through the break in the fabric he could make out the untidy hair of James, arms wrapped and clawing around a red headed girl with green eyes.

What the fuck. What the FUCK.

He had known that Evans was starting to warm up to him, fuck, James reminded him every waking second how she now laughed at his jokes and lingered in the halls to talk to him. Sirius had even acknowledged how she had gradually migrated herself nearby during meals, capable of leaning in for a cheeky comment or two about whatever the lads were blathering on about. But this ...Sirius fancied himself a very observant person, but this was coming completely out of left field. 

The couple barreled into the room, James guiding their feet while continuing to kiss, mouth open. Lily let herself be led, curling her hands into his hair and making soft moans when James reached over to cup her arse. 

“This one’s mine.” James nodded towards his disheveled bed and Lily broke her mouth free, taking a moment to regard the space theoretically known as his side of the room. 

“A bed? You spoil me, Potter.” She leaned into his mouth which had begun to trail down her neck. 

“Maybe if we told people about us we could come here more often,” There was a hint of sadness to his teasing. Sirius could see Lily’s brow furrow for a second, but she softened as James' hands wrapped around her middle, pulling her body to sit on the edge of the mattress. 

“ Prat,” She said it through a smile and James caught her lips. “In any event, we don’t have much time do we?”

James sank to his knees. She opened her legs enough to let him slot between them as he kissed her from the inner kneecap upwards, grazing his teeth and leaving pink lines against creamy skin. 

“Merlin Lily, please let me taste you. It’s been—”

“It’s been one day! Not even!” Lily chastised, looking more pleased than annoyed. 

“Don’t worry,” Sirius saw James’ hand disappear under her skirt and she breathed out a high pitched oh, “I’ll fuck you however you want, just let me lick you first.”

She didn’t need to answer, under his hand she was turning into a complete putty, melting like wax in a flame. Sirius hadn’t realized that he had moved into a craning position, trying to peek out of the tiny space where the fabric of the poster bed opened. 

Fuck—what the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I watching this? Am I mental?

James pushed Lily up onto the bed, crawling after her all while not separating his mouth from the inside of her upper thigh. Lily watched, mouth agape and eyes blown, legs angled open giving Sirius a clear shot now of soaked knickers under her skirt. 

She grabbed at his cheek, motioning for him to stop for a moment, then flipped herself onto all fours.

“Like this—we both always come quicker this way.”

James let out a deep fuck and rose up onto his knees behind her. He flipped up her skirt, grabbing a handful of her ass and squeezing. 

“Fucking Merlin, how are you so beautiful.”

Both hands were on her ass now and she pushed into the bulge of his crotch, eliciting a guttural moan. A hand raised off her ass and slammed down. Sirius could tell it wasn’t a painful slap, but it was a slap all the same. James froze up, looking down at the red now blooming on her cheek.

“Oh fuck, Lily I’m so sorry. It just happened, I—”

“Do it again.”

Sirius couldn’t see his eyes at this angle, but he knew his mate enough to know the exact dopey expression bursting onto his face. 

“Yeah?”

“Please, again.”

James lifted his hand again and smacked it down in the same place he had before. Lily let out a soft squeal at the impact, her ass bouncing lightly. 

“ Merlin Fuck, oh shit, that’s so hot,” James babbled, completely mesmerized by how each spank made her ass move under his hand. 

Sirius felt completely out of body, stuck in some sort of purgatory of morals which he was already not the best at maneuvering. Am I being punished?  

He tried to level with himself, weighing the options. Ok-fuck, what would the lads do in this situation? Peter would probably watch also–that little freak, but Remus? Would he scream? Close his eyes and cry? Ah fuck how am I not prepared for this. 

During his inner turmoil, James had crouched down so his mouth was level to Lily’s center. He held her knickers out of the way against her ass with a finger while his tongue started to lap at her. Facing at an angle, Sirius couldn’t tell if he was happy that he was unable to get a full view of James’ work, but if Lily’s response was any indication, he was doing a brilliant job. 

Her hands curled into the bed sheets. With every bob of his head, she let out a mewling cry, lengthening his name until it sounded more like a note than a word. She reached a hand behind her, grabbing into his hair to push his face further between her legs. The action made her back arch dramatically and she used her other hand to fondle a breast still hidden underneath her uniform. 

If it wasn’t already apparent before, there was no ambiguity about it now. This was not by any means their first foray into shagging each other. James lifted his head, locking eyes with her with a glistening mouth. 

“Come for me—come on my mouth. I can feel you’re close. Shit, I need to fuck you soon, Lily. You look too fucking fit, I’m barely holding on.”

He burrowed his head back into her and she let out a cry. 

“Just like that—you’re incredible James. Yes, baby.”

And she was coming. Through it all, Sirius reflected that he really never thought much about watching someone as they climaxed until now. Of course, he had seen someone do it before, but he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to the complete physical shift that occurred. He watched in fascination as Lily’s face scrunched up, all muscles taut before her whole body released like a blank slate. Her mouth hung loose and her eyes stared straight at everything and nothing all at once. 

James continued to lap at her through her shudders, then scrambled into a kneeling position. His cock was weeping as it pressed against her wet center. 

“I’m sorry, I need to be inside you now—fuck I love it when you come on my mouth—”

It took no effort for him to slide into her. His pace was quick and jagged, head bowed forward already teetering towards his own end. 

“I’m sorry–I’m not going to last very long—shit how do you always taste so good. ”

He was slamming into her and the noises of their conjoined bodies echoed through the room. Lily threw her body back against his, head turned to watch him over her shoulder.

“Come for me—I want to feel you come inside me—please—”

Sirius watched as James’ body shuddered, forehead craning all the way to make contact with her back. He let out a string of curses riddled with her name as she kept the rhythm of their hips for the both of them. It was only until the two collapsed that Sirius realized his mouth was wide open and hand had instinctively moved to his groin. 

He jumped the hand away from his cock, semi relieved he wasn’t fully hard, or else he would have some soul searching to do. He laid back on his bed and closed his eyes tight, taking deep quiet breaths. He could hear them whisper affirmations between soft kisses, and he wondered how something so utterly pornographic could fall into saccharine sweet so seamlessly. 

“That was incredible–I really needed that.”James sounded euphoric, even happier than when he had won a challenging quidditch match.

“Wound up from your adventures with your little club?” Lily snorted. There was a sound of a scuffle, Lily shrieking with laughter. “Ok, ok, I’m sorry. You’re… cohorts? Team? Cult?”

“Hey, now you are just being ridiculous.” Some more playful shrieks, then silence.

“I have potions soon.” 

“Stay,” James was doing his best whining voice. 

“Later—I promise.” Someone was moving off the bed. Sirius opened his eyes to watch Lily stand to tidy all of her clothing, smoothing down the mess of hair that framed her face.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else but you for the rest of my life.” It seemed like an awfully big thing to say after shagging a secret lover, but it was James after all—and not just him, but him with Lily. 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Her voice was soft and she didn’t elaborate. The door closed, and silence shrouded the room. 

Sirius waited. He wished that Peter or Remus would show up. That someone would do something that would break him out of the purgatory he somehow was still living in despite the event reaching its conclusion. He peeked at James who had wrapped himself in his sheets, looking as content as a newborn child. His breath slowed and his mouth started to fall open in sleep.

He took his chance. Lightly pulling back the curtain, he placed one foot onto the ground, hoping praying that James wouldn’t—

“What the fuck.”

James' eyes were wide, glaring at Sirius with more terror and shock that he had ever hoped to have directed at him in his life. 

“Please don’t ask me how long I was here.” Sirius’ hands instinctively went up in surrender. 

“How long.” James’ voice was hard, almost pained. 

He blinked, wondering why the world hated him so much. A thousand ideas sprung to mind before he landed on the one only logical enough to keep him alive to see another day. 

“Long enough to see that you are very talented, mate.”