#all I do is shut down and hysterically cry when I so much as think abt shit let alone do it 👍 why is everything so much.

[makismei]

thinking about toji with a sensitive girl who runs away before she cums, saying it’s too much and she can’t take it! cw: hints of sadism & machoism, unintentional edging, squirting, he’s pretty sweet ^.^

“baby, c’mon, you’re making this harder for yourself.” he chides, dragging your twitchy hips back. your thighs stay shut and he sends you a pointed glare, “what’s this?”

“toji,” you sniffle, “s’ too much, i can’t do it.”

with your teary eyes and quivering legs, toji can’t help but be mean. you’re so cute. it might be the death of him.

“want to use your special little word?” he asks lowly, already knowing your answer.

you shrink in on yourself, “n-no…”

he hums, a sick grin tugging on his lips. “i’m gonna need something more convincing than that, baby.”

you pout. he’s teasing you. he likes to see you like this.

shyly, you open your thighs, revealing your soaked cunt to him. his eyes lock in on your needy hole, twitching and drooling all over the bedsheets. “please, toji, make me cum..”

“aw, how sweet. saying please too, how can i say no?” he mutters, thick hand caressing your thigh, trailing closer to where you need him.

“you’re not gonna run this time, right?” he pats your pussy, entertained by the way you tense and how you force your legs to stay open.

“m’ not!” he knows you’re lying. but it’s fine, he likes testing how far you can go.

he thumbs your clit, watching you intently. you’re staring down at his hand, anticipating his next move. slowly, he pushes two fingers inside, groaning to himself when you squeeze down on his digits, “what a slutty cunt,” he grouses, “see doll, she’s begging to cum, but you’re not letting her.”

toji prods around, still thumbing your clit and you think you’re going to cry.

“hold your legs back,” he doesn’t even bother looking at you, “your legs are trying to close on me.”

you know what’s gonna happen if you hold your legs back. but also, what happens if you don’t. you shake your head, defiant. “i don’t wanna…”

the man hums, amused. “you’re gonna be like that?” you nod, testing him.

“hmm, i think m’ done being nice to you.” your pupils morphing into hearts at his words, barely even realizing that he’s putting a hand on your thigh, pushing it down to make room for him. he locks your other leg underneath him.

his fingers know exactly where to poke, thumb still on your clit. he’s so precise, aiming for that one spot again and again.

naturally, because he’s already tried to make you cum a few times, it doesn’t take long for you to know you’re gonna cum.

“don’t.” he scolds, already knowing what you’re up to, “don’t hold it, cum.”

it’s overwhelming, you’re not sure if you’re holding it intentionally, but you like it when he forces you to cum anyway. “i c-can’t, toji, toji no!”

you’re trying to squirm away. away from the onslaught of pleasure. toji glares at you and then you hear it.

a soft buzz and you look down, mortified. he’s still fingering you, despite the fact you’re clenching down so hard he can barely move his fingers.

“wait.. wait toji, baby, please,” you beg, “i’ll cum, i’ll cum now. but plea—easeeee!”

“i’ve given you enough chances,” he frowns, pressing the little toy against your clit, he continues driving his digits into you. “c’mon baby, make me happy.”

you’re sobbing hysterically, unable to get away from the pleasure. toji laughs, “let go, i dunno why you’re doing this to yourself.”

writhing on the bed is useless because you can’t escape his hold—teetering on the edge of orgasm is making your mind go numb.

“n-no, m’ gonna cum, toji i can’t hold it! it’s gonna come ouuuttt!” he doesn’t let up, shaking the toy and watching your back arch up.

“hands.” he scolds and you immediately withdraw your clammy fingers from his own, “that’s good, now c’mon, you know what i want.”

it’s paralyzing, left leg shaking uncontrollably underneath him while you babble incoherently. he keeps a watchful eye, working you to it. he feels his cock drooling pre at the sight of you—the feeling of you falling apart on his fingers is making his mind hazy.

your vision whites. toji whistles lowly, watching you splash liquid all over his lower tummy, soaking his boxers. he tosses the vibrator aside, thick fingers gently working you through it.

you’re practically screeching, becoming so fidgety that toji has to use his free hand to scoop up your wrists, keeping you at his mercy.

“shh, baby, that’s good. that feels good, don’t it?” when your body relaxes, he pops his fingers out, shamelessly putting them in his mouth. he leans over you, pressing his weight onto you.

burly hands hold your face, grinning at your bleary eyes and tear soaked cheeks. “hey, gorgeous,” he hums sweetly, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek. you’re panting, trying to catch your breath and he doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but it’s in his nature to be a little mean.

pressing his tongue into your open mouth, you moan, unable to keep up and he breathes out a laugh, pulling away. he knocks his nose against yours, praising you quietly.

weak arms throw themselves over his neck, keeping him close to you. you can feel his bulge twitch, a familiar warmth beginning spread over your body.

“tojiii~” you tease, “i think your little friend wants some attention too.”

he’s amused, grinning wolfishly. “haven’t you had enough, lady?”

you pretend to ponder, “i can’t say for sure.”

“you started this,” he pulls away, manhandling your body so you’re on your knees, face smushed into the pillow, “i think you’re biting off more than you can chew, doll.”

more pleasure dom!toji here ^.^

[yandere-daydreams]

exhibit #1 - dacryphilia

an installment of the freak shit march gallery showcase.

pairing: yandere!alhaitham x reader (genshin).

length: 2.0k.

warnings: non/con, student + teacher, rough oral sex, wildly unbalanced power dynamics, academic stress, degradation, mild infantalization, and forced helplessness.

The worst part was – it really wasn’t that easy to make you cry.

Before enrolling in Alhaitham’s class, you could only remember it happening twice. Once in adolescence, when hearing that your adoptive guardian had lost his life during an encounter with a group of thieves, and later on, after you failed your first attempt at the Akademiya’s entrance exam with a score so low, it could be expressed in single digits. It wasn’t that you were the stoic type – no, you and Alhaitham had nothing in common, let alone your dispositions. You just preferred to express yourself in more productive ways. Something so irrational, so hysterical, didn’t come naturally to you, and it never had before. You just didn’t cry.

Hence why it was all the more frustrating to be seated in front of Alhaitham’s desk for the fifth time in as many classes, fighting back tears. Your latest paper, an analysis of mythological tropes shared between the ancient folklore of Sumeru’s desert and forest regions, sat in front of you, drowned in red ink and creased from careless handling. You were sure his notes were thoroughly scathing, but so much as thinking about trying to read over them left tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, a fresh sob rising into your throat. It was humiliating. It was pathetic. Children cried over bad grades, not adults. Not you.

If Alhaitham noticed your distress, he kept his concerns to himself. His narrowed gaze remained centered loosely on the book in his right hand, the pointer finger of his left tapping idly against the tabletop. “I’m sure you understand why I can’t accept this,” he started, disinterest thick in his tone. You might’ve found some amount of comfort in his boredom, if it hadn’t been so degrading. “The Akademiya holds certain standards of quality for its students, and the work you’ve submitted is—” A measured beat, a shift to his inclination. “—less than. The orthodox course of action would be supervised revisions, but given the severity of the corrections needed, starting from scratch seems more advisable.”

You tried to control your breathing – five seconds in, five seconds out. The tactic was mildly effective until Alhaitham glanced up from his book and, rather jarringly, you processed he expected you to answer. “…I understand,” you managed, keeping the tremors in your voice down to a slight, nearly imperceptible shake. “But—”

Alhaitham cut in. “But?”

Your chest started to ache, and you realized you’d stopped breathing entirely. “It’s just—I do have other courses this semester, and the amount of time I’ve dedicated to your rewrites—It’s starting to affect my other classwork.” And your social life, and your psyche, and your physical health. You couldn’t remember you’d fallen asleep without a quill in your hand. “I’m sorry, but if there’s any way I could get any amount of credit for what I’ve already done, that would—”

“That would be letting personal circumstance circumvent academic merit.” The knot lodged in the base of your throat tightened. You balled your fists in your lap and counted to ten. “To give you any amount of credit, the work you’ve submitted would have to be worth any amount of credit. Unfortunately, it isn’t.” His gaze shifted to you. “Is that clear?”

You opened your mouth, but it was too late. The dam was busted, the pillar split, and despite your best efforts, the totality of your despair came crashing down around you. You tried to set your jaw, to shut your eyes, but the sobs escaped regardless – tiny and whimpered, fractured by unsteady breathing and your own failure to choke them back. The tears were almost worse, more pathetic, more childish – staining your cheeks and dripping down your chin, spotting the collar of your uniform. You pawed at your face with your sleeves, but that only drew more attention to your instability. If you’d had any less pride, you might’ve fled his office entirely, but the only thing worse than breaking down in front of your professor would’ve been breaking down in front of your peers. You couldn’t take their coddling attempts at kindness, their cooed assurances that Alhaitham really wasn’t that demanding, not after you knew what he was expecting. You couldn’t make yourself seem anymore hopeless than you already were.

Alhaitham, at least, had the decency to keep his mouth shut. He watched on in silence before sighing, setting his book down, and pushing himself to his feet.

He rounded the desk with no great sense of urgency. You were sobbing into your hands when he came to a stop next to your seat, and for one brief, horrifying moment, you thought he might actually attempt to comfort you. He kept his arms crossed over his chest, though, his voice remaining painfully neutral as he spoke. “You need to pass my class, don’t you?”

“Y-yes.” It was a required credit, and you’d missed the unenrollment period. Trying to back out now would be nearly, if not flatly, impossible. “I’d do—”

“Anything, I know. Save put the bare minimum amount of thought into your assignments, apparently.” You felt him reach down, raking his fingers through your hair. “And you mean that? Anything I’d ask of you?”

Had you been a little more lucid, a little less sleep deprived, you might’ve noticed the cloying note to his last question, the uncharacteristic warmth to his touch as his hand slipped from your scalp to your check, a thumb idly brushing away your tears. But, you were distraught beyond the point of reason, and the last of your energy had been spent on a paper he hadn’t deemed worth his time, and it was all you could do to nod into his hand.

Alhaitham, practical as always, wasted no time. “Get on your knees.”

…

Where there might’ve been shock, there was only dull dread. You’d heard about things like this before – tutors holding study materials over the heads of desperate lower-classmen, department head leveraging funding against the morals of insecure young scholars. Of course, you’d always assumed you would never fall into something so obviously depraved, and of course, you sniffled pathetically as you lowered yourself to the floor, collapsing onto your knees in front of Alhaitham. He let his hand drift to the back of your head, its weight settling against your scalp. You tried not to think about why he might want to hold onto you.

He took the initiative, mercifully. You were still biting back pitchy little cries as he shrugged his pants low on his hips, taking his cock in his free hand. Horrifyingly, he was already stiff. You couldn’t tell which had gotten him hard – the idea of the act itself, or the opportunity to exploit a student.

Alhaitham pumped his fist over his length, tightening his grip as he reached the flushed head. His eyes never left you. “Do you know what you’re doing, or will you need remedial courses in this subject, too?”

You pursed your lips. “That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

You weren’t looking forward to this, but having to keep talking to him suddenly seemed like the worse of two evils. You managed to swallow back the last of your tears as you leaned forward, awkwardly replacing his hand with your own. He carded his fingers through your hair as you took his tip past your lips, letting it sit on your tongue. The taste was earthy and bitter, with something more acidic playing just underneath. In another context, it might not have been entirely unpleasant, but right now, it only made you want to wretch.

Shutting your eyes, you soldiered on. Guiding him into the hollow of your cheek would’ve been easier, but Alhaitham was quick to correct you – jerking your head upright as soon as it started to lull to the side. He held you in place as he bucked his hips, the head of his cock bumping against the back of your throat as the girth of his shaft forced your jaw open. You gagged around him, but if Alhaitham cared, it would’ve been impossible to know. There was an airy grunt, then a click of his tongue – a teacher correcting their pupil’s latest mistake. “Breathe through your nose. If you pass out, we’ll only have to start over.”

The bastard. The heartless, sadistic bastard. Your hands shot to his legs as he thrust himself deeper into you; manually nodding your head in time with his languid strokes. You would’ve been better off going limp, letting him do what he needed to and ending this that much sooner, but something primal and contrarian in the darkest depths of your mind spurred you to try and keep up, to bob, to dig your nails into his thighs and stop your throat from seizing around him. The pressure was the worst part – all force, no relief, the gnawing awareness that you were losing air paired with the alien weight of something occupying a part of you that was meant to be vacant. The tears were back in an instant, leaking from the corners of your eyes, joining your spit where it was starting to spill out at the corners of your lips, and Alhaitham groaned, twitching against the inside of your throat.

“This doesn’t mean you won’t need regular tutoring sessions.” His grip tightened, blunt nails biting into your scalp. You whined in pain as he pressed your nose to his stomach, holding you there for a second, then another before jerking your back. “Home visits should prove to be the most effective. You’ll come to me, of course. The student accommodations are too public – it’ll distract you.”

You started to shake your head, but Alhaitham held you still, keeping you concentrated on his cock. By now, his pace was steady, his face flushed, his cock battering its shape into your throat. Tasting him wasn’t an option, anymore. It seemed to coat your tongue, drip down your throat, slather itself over every part of you it could infect. You cried out around his cock, and Alhaitham cursed, his hips stuttering against your mouth. “You’ll come to me, every day, and I’ll—fuck, I’ll—”

Suddenly, violently, he pushed you away and pulled out of your mouth. His hand made it to his cock in time to pump once, twice before your black-rimmed vision was spotted with white, before thick ropes of something hot and terrible were being painted over your face. It was all you could do to blink, to stare, to wonder why he was still looking at you with that awful, frigid intensity. You wished he would look away. You wished you’d never taken his fucking class at all.

You opened your mouth to say as much, but something thick dripped off of your upper lip and onto your tongue. Numbly, you let the bitter, corrosive taste wash over you, and then, you broke down.

What little pride you had left wasn’t worth salvaging, anymore. You sobbed and shook unabashedly, wailing like a child as his cum cooled on your skin. Alhaitham made a passing effort to hush you before kneeling to your height and taking you in his arms. With no strain whatsoever, he carried you back to his seat and fell into it, keeping you bundled against his chest. “You’ll come to me, every day, and I’ll make sure you’re not thinking about anything beyond you and I,” he finished. “That way, you’ll only have to remember what I tell you to.”

Alhaitham paused, sighed. “That is, if the General Mahamatra doesn’t decide to expel you from the Akademiya altogether. Trying to seduce an instructor is a very serious offense. You won’t need to worry about studying after word spreads.”

Rather than draw back, you melted into him, burying your face in his shoulder. For the first time that you could recall, Alhaitham let out a breath of a laugh, holding you that much closer. His lips pressed into your temple – the imitation of a kiss. “But that’s not surprising, is it?”

If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought you felt him smile.

“You were always going to need someone more capable to take of you.”

[slut4thebroken]

Reminisce

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jackson Rippner x reader

Summary | Your boyfriend of almost nine months finally reveals something to you.

Warnings | Consensual to NON CON, smut, forced breeding, baby trapping, scars, praise, forced orgasm, crying, blackmail?, past rape, lots of talk about rape, like a lot.

Words | 1.4 k

Notes | Pretend I posted this a week before Halloween like it says in the fic lol.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 19: forced orgasm

Also idk this gif just reminded me of this part “he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in.”

“Good girl… Take my fucking cock.” He gruffed, wrapping a hand around your neck, fucking you even harder. You cried out and clung to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. He was leaning over your body with your legs on his shoulders basically pushed flat against your chest, unable to do anything other than take it. 

“Jackson..” You whined. Each hard thrust was punching little breaths and grunts out of you and he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, just barely smirking at the state he had you in. 

“God— This reminds me so much of our first date.” He groaned, confusing you. Your first date was at a restaurant and he only kissed you after walking you to your door… You didn’t know what he was talking about and his cock ramming into you was making it really hard to think about it. He chuckled quietly when he saw your furrowed brows. 

“You don’t remember? It was right here in this bed, you were dressed up as a cute little fairy for Halloween and I was wearing a mask…” He trailed off, waiting for you to finally figure it out. Your stomach dropped as you recalled what was probably the worst night of your entire life. “You looked so pretty crying and begging for me like that, I knew I had to make you mine.” He said with a small smile, sounding almost endeared. 

You stared up at him in shock and horror as the small scar below your collarbone started aching at the memory. There’s no way that your boyfriend of almost nine months was the one who broke into your apartment and raped you last Halloween. 

“W-what?” You said through a breath, voice barely audible. His smirk widened as he took in the terror on your face. 

“I was thinking of waiting until Halloween, but I just couldn’t help myself.” He chuckled. “Plus it’s only a week away, and I figured you might shut down on the actual day.” 

All you could do was stare at him, a huge wave of emotions crashing down on you. When the angle of his thrusts shifted a little and he hit that one spot inside of you, you suddenly remembered that he was still fucking you and you started pushing him away. 

“Get the fuck off of me.” Any malice in your tone was completely overshadowed by fear. In response, he just grinned and squeezed your neck even harder until you gasped for air. 

“You were so tight that day… I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for almost a year.” He groaned, then his eyes flitted down to your chest. “And that scar… Every time I see it I remember how pretty you looked, crying and begging under me as you took my cock like a good little girl— just like you’re doing now.” 

“Get off!” You yelled, the tears in your eyes beginning to fall as you thrashed under him. He shushed you and just grabbed your wrists to pin them above your head with one hand while the other moved to trace over the scar. 

“You know… The first time you got all choked up when I asked about it, I had to go to the bathroom and jerk off.” He chuckled quietly, looking between your face and the scar with an almost fond expression.

“Stop!” You screamed, becoming hysterical. “Jackson, please.” When you broke out into a sob, he cursed under his breath and moaned loudly, his thrusts becoming more frantic. 

“God- you were crying just like this…” He groaned, dragging his gaze all over your tear streaked face. “Only last time you weren’t about to come on my cock.” He said smugly. 

You shook your head almost violently, but you could feel your orgasm still approaching, despite what you just learned. 

“And, between you and me… based on how hysterical you were last year, I was worried you wouldn’t be interested in a relationship at all— let alone sex…” He said teasingly, but his voice was becoming breathless as he neared his own release. “But you surprised me.” He chuckled quietly. You could barely focus on his words with how hard you were crying, feeling completely frozen underneath him. “You were so desperate for it too. I guess that’s normal though… Something about reclaiming control over your body and what not.”

“Jackson, please stop.” You sobbed brokenly, but he wasn’t deterred at all.

“Stop? But you were just moaning like a little whore for me two minutes ago.” He said coyly. 

“I hate you!” You suddenly screamed, making him laugh again. 

“No. You hate yourself because you’re about to cream all over your rapist’s cock.” The hand not holding your wrists down moved to rub your clit and your crying intensified. 

“Stop!” You shrieked, thrashing under him uselessly. 

“Beg harder, baby… I’m close.” He moaned as his thrusts sped up. The smirk on his face that used to make you blush, made you sick to your stomach this time. 

You were mumbling incoherent protests and pleas and he let his head drop down as he moaned loudly. His fingers never faltered on your clit and you could feel your unwanted orgasm rapidly approaching. 

“No… No— please.” You sobbed weakly, making him look at you again. 

“Do it, slut. Come on my fucking cock while I rape you again.”

You were crying almost violently now, tears streaming down your cheeks as you practically started hyperventilating. “Please..” You whimpered, squirming under him weakly. The coil of arousal in your belly wound tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, sending you over the edge. “No,” you sobbed and Jackson groaned as your pussy fluttered around his cock. 

“Oh, good girl…” He cooed, making you cry harder. “That's it… Cream all over my dick, baby.” His usually smug tone that used to fill your stomach with butterflies, now just made you nauseous. 

“Stop! Please stop, Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, unable to hold back your moans and whimpers as his fingers continued rubbing firm circles on your clit. 

His lips parted in a silent moan and his eyes closed as his head fell forward, landing on your chest. With one final grunt, he bottomed out, his cockhead pressing against your cervix uncomfortably. You whined through quiet sobs, all while Jackson moaned… savoring every last bit of your suffering.

“Fuck..” He said through a breathy laugh once his orgasm finally faded. He leaned up, taking in the sight of your glossy eyes and quivering lip, then grabbed your cheeks to hold you still, letting him kiss you. No matter how hard you tried to turn away, he was stronger. He only released you once he was completely satisfied. “Mm… good girl.” He murmured, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. You were completely frozen under him, only able to let out hiccuping sobs. 

“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, his voice overly sweet. “But you’re not gonna leave me.” You stared at him, trying to keep a brave face, but you knew he could see your fear. “Raped twice? You’re damaged goods, sweetheart. No respectable man is gonna want you now.” You let out a choked sob and closed your eyes, hearing him coo again. 

“Plus…” when his voice turned a little serious, your blood ran cold in anticipation, “you’re gonna need me to stick around for our kid.” 

Your lips parted and you stared at him with both confusion and fear as you trembled. “What?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Lucky me, finding a girl who’s selfish enough to make sex feel less good— all because of the ‘hormones’ and side effects of birth control.” He sneered, his voice cold but with a cruel, almost playful lilt. Then he casually added, “You should be pregnant by now. I’ve been poking holes in all the condoms for almost two weeks.”

“Jackson…” You sobbed brokenly, not even knowing how to react. 

“I know, honey, but I’ll take good care of you.” He pet your hair gently, then wiped away the tears on your face. “Your boss should be getting something in the mail soon. After he fires you, you’ll finally be able to live up to your full potential. You can move in with me and only have to worry about taking care of the house and our kids, and servicing my cock. Doesn’t that sound nice?” All you could do was cry and shake your head. 

“You’re gonna love it.” He smiled, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead. “I promise.”

[judejazza]

ʚ・ AFFECTION ⟢ JUDE JAZZA

Warnings: Non-consensual drug usage (suitor), references to sexual assault (not reader or suitor)

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Masterlist | Request | Tip

Where Jude was, Ellis was often not far behind. It was a truth of their contract together, that when Jude was at his happiest, Ellis would stop time for him, and so in an attempt to never miss it, or to facilitate Jude’s happiness, Ellis was always with him.

But this was new.

In the foyer of Crown Castle where you’d been waiting for Jude to return from a mission he’d absolutely forbidden you from joining, was Jude and Ellis — Ellis clinging to Jude’s arm and snuggling against his shoulder like a kitten. Between the contented look on Ellis’ face and the disgruntled glare on Jude’s you almost found yourself laughing had it not been for the faint sense of jealousy lurking under the surface. You knew there was absolutely nothing to be jealous of, Jude saw Ellis as an annoying little brother, that much was clear from how he treated him, but— but you wished you could snuggle against Jude like that without feeling that he might get annoyed at you.

“Did something happen?” Roger asked, trying to stifle the laughter in his voice.

“I dunno, Quack, you tell me,” Jude half barked, trying to shrug Ellis off. He clicked his tongue in annoyance, his eyes briefly meeting with yours before he swallowed and looked away. “They were usin’ some airborne drug to, well-“ he huffed, looking at Ellis with exasperation. “All of them exposed to it started acting like this to the first person they saw.”

“And then they’d be taken advantage of,” you said slowly, eyes narrowing. Jude seemed very unaffected. It would be like Ellis to go in alone ahead to check, but it would also be like Jude to do everything to protect those women, whether he would admit it or not. 

“And you didn’t get a whiff of it?”

Jude snorted, finally shrugging Ellis off his arm and barking at him to ‘fuck off’. “I did, but I ain’t about to let it affect me, who the fuck ya take me for?”

Right. Of course. You gulped down, trying not to be affected by his response. It wasn’t that Jude wasn’t affectionate, just more that he showed it in other ways. You let out a small sigh, feeling your shoulders slump. For once it would be nice to feel like Jude was the one who needed you around, or the one who couldn’t let go of the other — you always felt like you were constantly annoying him with your desire to be around him, and…

And it would just be nice for him to cling off you like this.

“Alright then,” Roger murmured, staring at Jude with half suspicion. “Hey, Ellis, c’mere-“ It only took the calling of his name for Ellis to rush over to Roger, this time hugging him around his broad torso and snuggling right into his chest and letting out a happy sigh. “Woah, hold on there, I was just going to tell you that I-“ Roger paused, thinking for a moment, before a smirk flit upon his lips. “Actually, Victor baked fresh. Bread especially for you, Ellis, why don’t you go and find him to thank him?”

Oh boy, you thought, imagining the scene that was about to play out. Victor would be overjoyed at being snuggled so enthusiastically by the youngest member of Crown, in fact you thought he might actually cry from it. Deciding you wanted to see the scene unfold with your own eyes, you started to follow after them when Jude grabbed your hand.

“C’mere,” he grumbled, dragging you away from the scene and up to his room. 

“But, Jude, I want to see it — you know you do, too.”

“I don’t care, it’ll be loud, the old man will be hysterical.”

“Yeah, but-“

The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Jude suddenly turned and wrapped his arms around you, his face pressed against your neck. You shuddered at his warmth breath hitting your skin, tensing in anticipation of him biting you — that was how he’d usually start things off, your neck was one of his favourite spots, after all.

Yet it never came. 

Instead Jude held you tightly, his breathing slowing and his fingers gripping to you tightly as if he were somehow afraid you were about to slip away. 

“Jude?”

“I just wanna hold ya,” he muttered, voice sounding strained. “Don’t turn it into somethin’ else.”

“Mmhmm,” you murmured, letting your arms wrap back around him, reaching your hand up to stroke his hair. “So you got exposed to the drugs too, huh?”

“Shuddup,” he grumbled, squeezing you into a tighter hug. 

You wanted to laugh at his reaction, but you found yourself unable to do it. There was something quite wholesome, and perhaps heartbreaking, about the way Jude Jazza was clinging to you. He guided you gently to the bed, and rather than push you down under him, he let himself down onto the bed first, pulling you on top of him where he continued to crush you against him. 

“Jus’ don’t wanna let ya go tonight…” he half grumbled. 

“Is it really so bad to admit you just want to be with me?” You asked quietly, resting your head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. You didn’t expect much — this was Jude after all. He rarely voiced how he felt, instead showing his affections in the way he’d constantly touch you or spoil you with thoughtful gifts that you never had the heart to turn down. But, this was still different to how he’d usually touch you. Usually he was rough with you, stripping you bare until you were at his mercy; but never uncaring, never anything to actually hurt you. He’d say things that would make you want to vanish right into the bed sheets, but with the softest look in his eyes.

But never like this.

This was almost innocent, and as much as you enjoyed being intertwined with him, there was something so special about this type of closeness that you found yourself wishing the effects wouldn’t ware off so soon. 

You lifted your hand to continue playing with his hair, smiling when he let out a contented sigh. There was an undeniable urge to tease him, to make him blush and squirm, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to ruin the moment at all.

“I like this,” you said quietly, kissing his temple. 

“Yea…?” Jude muttered, peering up at you. “Ya prefer it to the normal me…?”

“What?”

Jude grunted. “Really gonna make me say it again….”

“No, I heard you, it’s just-“ you gulped down. It’s just you didn’t expect him to actually worry about that. 

“Jus’ I know I ain’t the picture perfect boyfriend, and women often prefer this kinda shit.”

“So you aren’t enjoying this at all?”

“I didn’t say that,” he growled. “Just….”

You moved yourself so you could properly gaze into his eyes, watching his facial features change slightly as an emotion you never expected to see on Jude’s face slowly appeared. Insecurity. 

“I want… what’s best for you. What makes ya happy.”

“Jude-“ you replied, voice trailing off quietly as emotion choked you up. “I know you love and care about me, even if you don’t say as much… and I like you as you are normally. That’s the Jude I fell in love with.”

“Yet ya sure seem pleased right now.”

“Of course I am,” you replied, gently stroking his cheek and revelling in the way he nuzzled against your hand. “But only because it’s you, if you were like this all the time, I-“ You paused, thinking about it. If he was constantly like this, what would it be like?

You shake your head, dismissing the images that fluttered up; ones you found yourself increasingly uncomfortable with. “You wouldn’t be Jude if you were like this all the time, in fact it might be a little weird. But once in a while it’s nice to be like this with you… don’t you think so, too?”

Grumbling, Jude crushed your head back agains this chest in a tight hug, his chin resting on top of your head as his legs tangled with yours. Obviously he agreed, but he wasn’t about to say as much. You laughed softly at his attempt to hide his very obvious feelings on the subject and placed a soft kiss against the exposed skin of his chest where the buttons of his shirt had come undone. 

“I love you as you are, Jude.”

“Ya sure got weird tastes, Princess,” he replied, voice sounding strained. “Real strange.”

“Yeah, you say that a lot, but you don’t seem to mind.”

“Course not,” he said gruffly. You could hear the smirk on his lips and you smiled to yourself, enjoying how he seemed to be returning back to his normal self quicker than you’d thought. “Ain’t another man who can satisfy those twisted desires of yours, is there?”

“Jude!”

He let out a bark of laughter, this time his hand playing with your hair as he remained lying there with you atop him, tangled in a mess of limbs. Jude’s lips gently placed a kiss against the top of your head, and you let out a contented sigh as your eyes slowly closed. As always he smelled perfect; sandalwood and smoke, a combination you’d grown to find comfort in.

“Am I wrong, Princess?” Jude asked, his tone far gentler than you’d come to expect. No hint of teasing or tormenting remained; it was a genuine question to which you quickly shook your head to.

Of course he was right, at this point no other man, and no other version of Jude was ever going to enough for you. 

taglist: @nightghoul381

[ethereal555]

FUCK BOY PT.1

player!jude x stonerblackfem!reader

You laugh, not quite believing your ears, “What?'

'Please don't make me say it again. Honestly baby, I'll never forgive myself'.

You fixate on him. The man you loved, gave your body to and had the lowest of lows with has done the one thing he promised never to do.

He betrayed you.

You get off of the couch, as if it’d become hot lava. You feel your blood vigorously pumping through your veins, heating up your cheeks and ears. Like church bells had just gone off, your ears were ringing.

“Get out my flat - now” you forced out shakily, you felt as if your throat was closing in. Your chest raising rapidly.

He blinks, as if I was speaking a foregin language.

'No, sit down' he pleads reaching for my hand. You swat his hand off of you, taking a huge step away from him.

“Jude please, I don’t want you to touch me. How dare you think you can even come into my home right after disrepecting me? Do you think I'm a joke?” you pant

'I'm not going to even ask you why you did it? She's clearly who you wanted all along. The world's right; you only got with a black girl to make your Mum feel better. I swear I should have listenied when they called you a man!fucking!whore”.

'I've wasted my time with you, time I'll never get back'! I realise in hysterics. You feel like someone has hit a wong in your ear, its an intense feeling you feel in your head. You cover your ears to silence your thoughts that were going off on autopilot.

You pace around going on a tangent, finding all the offesive words in the dictiionary to throw at him. You search to find any small inanimate objects to throw at him, a way to inflict the hurt you felt emotionally onto him.

'Yeah, Yeah,ok' he bitterly chuckled trying to play off as unfazed, as if all the lethal words you spat had fallen upon deaf ears. His jaw was tense, it was taking everything for him not to shut you up himself, but he knew how genuinely wrong he was in this situation and how much he deserved the names so he decided against taking any action. This time.

You scower the kitchen trying to find any items that were bought for you by him. You take the Gucci scarf off of your kitchen highchair, lobbing it at him. He sat there, with the nerve to have a scowl of his face 'Take it' you yelled as you threw the cloth. 'I don't want anything of yours, you're disgusting'.

It landed on his face, and he, in an act of self -discipline didn't react, folded it up placing next to him on your couch, licking his lips. I must admit it must've taken a lot for him to not retaliate, the Jude last year was another story.

'This too’', you removed the burgundy coloured Van Cleef bracelet he had gifted you for your birthday back in May, aiming it for his face. The athletic boy, with instincts like a cat, caught this too, placing it untop of the scarf next to him. His left leg was shaking with irritation. A scowl on his face. His teeth tucked into his plump bottom lip as he sat back cross armed on the couch, pissed.

“You're not fucking intimidating me, not in my own house. Good try. GET the fuck OUT JUDE!”

I was seeing red, because he wasn't listening to me. My nose and eyes running like a water fountain. I looked a hot mess. I wipe my face with the back of my hands. Embarrassed.

To my advantage, I find my tedbaker slippers on the floor near the door. I laugh at myself picking it up with full intention to throw it -

He stand ups “Don’t you fucking dare, I swear to God Tiana act like you have some fucking sense”.

'I will do whatever the fuck I want to you. You’re not welcome here anymore, I dont want you in my house anymore. Listen to me Jude, for once... leave' I cry, shaking. “I’ve told you to leave and you’re still here”

“I can’t, I can't leave you. Why dont you listen to me for once, just once, I can explain” he fought shouting over her cries.

'Why dont you understand' i hiccup, 'i cant, i physically cant sit here, whilst you, a fucking vile the vilest man ive ever met, wants to speak, to me and justify him sleeping with someone he's lied to me about for 8 FUCKING MONTHS'

' A bitch that racially abused me, and you fucking too? You are not worth anymore of my time. Like, really Jude? Are you that fucking desperate for pussy? Are you that desperate to hurt me? For fucks sake, if you really needed to fuck someone, at least fuck someone that resemebles the woman you claim to love 'more than football' she looks nothing like me Jude' you drag..

'It didn't happen rec-' he started

You felt the waterworks again but you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. It was the fact he wasn't understanding that him explaining the details was causing you to have to envision him with another woman. Having had enough of this row, you turn around immediately going to your cabinet to get your pre rolled blunt.

'I wasn't in the right mind, I have no excuse, it was a genuine mistake. Baby, please..' he argued.

You turn on your stove, shoving your blunt into it, to light it. You sit on your counter once it finally draws and you inhale deeply, making sure to cough so it hit you harder, Cali. You weren’t in the right mental headspace to deal with this sober.

“You hear me Ti?” he begged

It was like pathetic fallacy, a dark day for you emotionally and the only things illuminating the house were the many Central London streetlights outside your grand glass windows as well as your purple led's shining from your room upstairs.

'You can check my phone, my social media DM’s, theres not one trace of a woman Tianna, because I've decided all I need you. You don't understand I cant do it without you- this thing called life, no. Hell i cant even go a day without thinking about you and the life we could have’ he confesses clapsing at his heart.

Then there's a deafening silence.

You transfix on him fresh tears still imprinted on your cheeks, as you inhale, one toke after another after another. You both hold each other’s eye contact for a split second, before you withdraw focusing on your blunt.

The boy you loved most in the world, now turned traitor, sat across from you looking helpless. The only things that can be heard in the flat were both your infrequent sniffles, your sharp inhales and distant modes of transport outside.

Emptiness.

He rubs his eyes, typical, always seeming to cry when you cried, excusing it as something he couldnt help because he loved you so much. Well if only he thought of that before he decided to fuck the bimbo.

You snigger, you’re eyes low, the weed has you feeling like you’re floating.

“Jayy” You drag, your head and body feeling extremely light

“Yeah, yes” he answers quick, attentive

“You know, it’s a true shame, for Denise. I just wonder, like, if only she knew what an absolute bitch she would have raised before having you, would she have had an a-' you giggle

' Don't finish that sentence or we'll have a problem' he growls shooting up, charging towards me.

'Get up off the counter now, Tiana. Have you lost your fucking mind?' he spat. His natural doe - shaped eyes enlarged with anger, this dark brows furrowed.

You look at him, your giggles disentergrating into the air just like your weed smoke, daring him to do what he's been doing indirecting for the past 8 months.

'Fucking dare do what, what are you going to do about it? Hm, Jude? I’m going to continue to make you feel like shit until you leave because I’ve asked you to LEAVE MY HOUSE and you're still here, so take the insult”. You take another puff of your blunt, feeling the anger rising again.

Granted, the blunt was probably making you say things you shouldn't, he deserved it.

“I could’ve hurt you, so so badly” he lets out his jaw clenched.

'I beg your pardon?, you fucking idiot what do you think I'm -“

'Shut up and let me talk, i could have kept it silent and have the whole world find out at the same time as you, but i didnt. i've flown here on Chrismas to tell you. To be here I’ve sacrificed spending time with my brother and my parents. I've literally put your feelings and wellbeing first before my families,before mine but you're too bloody dense to be objective and see things from another person's perspective'.

You drop your blunt on the counter, hopping off of it. At the same time, not caring if you blew the rest out in his face, although you knew he hated the smell.

'I don’t give a fuck about how it all unravels, or who's feeling you are putting first over others. You got your self here in the first place, you wouldnt be in this predicament if you had some sense about you; and stayed loyal to what we have built. And shit, even if you genuinely needed to fuck a girl, do better next time and fuck a woman who wont go round running your business, dumb boy. But you're too thick and pussy hungry to realise that' she seethed pushing at his chest with every last world.

'Jude, we are sooooooo done' you ridicule 'i cant actually emphasise it enough'

'We're not, technically can't be. Tiana, we havent been together since March, which is another reason I dont know why you're so angry'

You sneer, clenching your fists as your sides. Your nostrils flared, you decided against screaming or shouting; you didn't have the energy. So using up all the mature strength you could muster, you leave to go to your room. Genuine rage and shock slapped onto your facial features. You barge past him walking at high speed until he grips your wrist pulling you back to stand infront of him.

'Don't walk away from me when I''m speaking to you.' you snatch out of his harsh grasp.

You push at his chest, 'I've told you stop touching me, Jude. I'm walking away because this conversation can't be had with a 2 year old.'

'And who's the two year old?, I havent been the one throwing a fucking tantrum this whole time and gettting high thinking it’s cool, whilst an adult has been trying to have a mature conversation with you! He spits.

'A tantrum ? I have everyright to be fuming. You’re so lucky I'm high right now you should thank God because, if I was sober you know exactly what would happen' you threaten.

'Yeah I do know, because that’s the type of person you are. You’re so quick to dehumanise people',

“And rightfully so for you at least.. so... where do we go from here? Nowhere, bye. Shut the door after you'.

You push yourself off of the kitchen counter, that you were reluctantly leaning on.

'Stop fucking walking away from me. Tiana. We’re not finished. Act your fucking age', he exclaimed trapping you between himself and the counter, leaving no room for you too escape. Both his arms, decorated in bulging green veins, clenched either side of you.

He gets in my face as if you make it clear to me ‘I’m going to ask you again ok.. Why are you so fucking angry?'

'BECAUSE YOU'RE STILL FUCKING ME JUDE ME !!! WHAT DONT YOU UNDERSTAND!! you rage in this face.

You feel you're eyes watering again so you break out from his constraint and turn around to go a relight your blunt before taking another 3 tokes.

“What type of question is that-have you no emotional intelligence or sympathy?” you exhale

'Because you fly me out to Madrid to fuck and hang out. You choose to spend time with me when instead you could be with your family or friends. You come over here during you're off season to fuck me, kiss me, cuddle me, give me presents, bags and jewellery. You eat my ass, we've been fucking on my period for Gods sake - all these things have happened whilst we've been broken up. so dont - please dont try to play it like we're just sneaky links, sneaky links dont have history , sneaky links are not ex's'

'For Jobe’s birthday you flew me out, for Mark’s and Denise’s birthday you flew me out to celebrate with you and them. When you went to go check on your grandma I was there, all of this happened when we were broken up. Doesn’t this sound particularly “together” to you ?

'I explicitly rememeber telling you that if this was truly over than the fucking, and seeing each others family and all that had to stop, and then what did you do, you came to London the very next month and stayed 3 nights.'

'So excuse me for feeling cheated on, Jude’ you pant, out of breathe, you take some tissue roll from your counter top, wiping your eyes. Saying all of this makes you feel dumb, and taken advantage off.

He only looks at you, with regret, sympathy. Stillness befriended him. He turns around going to sit down.

“I wish you and Laura the best in the future.”

Jude sits down on your black fur rug, playing with his fingers, something he never did unless we was uncomfortable. His plump lips parted looking at the ground.

He clears his throat, his eyes glazed over. His tone was soft, you'd given a different persepctive he was to blind to have seen

'Love, I've tried to explain to you that there was no emotional connection there with Laura, she was something easy, she was something i used, as horrible as it sounds, to distract myself from the fact that i felt like i might lose you, the love of my life. But now that, well, we were back on track I feel the need to tell you because i don’t want anything in the way of our relationship progression. I - can assure all the while we have been sleeping with other, i swear i havent so much as touched another girl, this happened in early April before we started messing around again. When you gave me the expression it was really done. I needed to tell you about it today, because she’s been threatening to tell people and news outlets. And if she did that-“ he paused swallowing the lump in his throat.

'It would kill me Ti, you have to believe me, i don’t want to do this thing called life without, i'd rather die' he swears.

You stand there watching him, your blunt was now finished and to be honest you were so high, not even his most compassionate love poem would sober you up.

You start to clap, obnoxiously 'Weooooo, and the Oscar goes to Jude Belligoallll, wooooo', you fall into a fit of laughter.

He wasn’t amused. Not one bit. He looks directly at you, his widened eyes connecting with your red hazy ones.

You walk over to sit down infront of him on the floor. He listens attentively.

'Ok that was mean, sorry' you giggle

'Jude you can't hurt me and then apologize expecting everything to be better again, we need to - ' you hesistate trying to find the right words.

'To, level the score, surely. You play football baby, you know how it goes. We need to draw, right now its 1-0 to you. When I score, then its over right because then it'll be 1-1', you advise.

'Between me and you' I lean in closer, he stares following my lips.

'I like the look of Levi', you draw back, you lick your lips. The cotton mouth getting to you.

'I need water Jude, and you look like you've just seen a ghost. So I'll make that two waters, since you're not going to leave anytime soon right?'.

He snickers,a frown on his face when he grabs my jaw, tight.

'You're not going to do such a thing, not to me'

'So what? you can do it but I can't, boy please' you tut trying to leave from his grip.

'Sleep with him or any man for that matter and I swear I'll make you miserable' he swears

Your mouth drops, the audacity you think mentally

'Jude you're insane, clinically -'

' I mean just think of all the friends you've lost, because they were trying to fuck me, all those friends you've had to cut off are at my beck and call you know that right'

'You wouldnt dare' you snatch out of his grip on your jaw. You felt dizzy moving your head too fast, and the cali was only intensifiying both feeling of heartbreak and dizziness.

'I actually hate you Jude, oh my God, why would you say that?" you softly cried. It was such as slap in your face, espeically because those women he was mentioning were childhood bestfriends that it had taken you ages to get over, still to this day.

You stumble up, stomping into your room, slamming the door shut.

'What, are your feelings hurt baby?" he shouts after me, mockingly. His voice following me up the stairs.

---

part 2 may have smut

this was requested, a toxic jude. this page is for my girls that have been through many toxic relationships. im here to heal you LMAOO

[moonybug444]

(sorry for my bad english!) hii! I found your account and i want to tell you that your stories are, like, a GREAT comfort, the few you have are, it sounds weird but, in my opinion reading stories (or writing) about abusive relationships is an escape route to avoid falling into those relationships in real life, I mean, i read them and i get the adrenaline because of reading it instead of living them dhfjkshfsk so yes, they are also very, very well written <:

can i ask for a story where Connie is a little older thanreader, and constantly manipulates her with the excuse that he knows better and reader believes him, because, for a long time, he was the only older figure she had, something like that, I don't know. , bonus if reader cries hysterically in his arms (his fault, of course, he slapped her or something)

i really agree with your take on the whole writing about traumatic relationships because that’s how i feel. i’ve been thru so so much and i know it’s different but this is most definitely how i cope, im glad someone else can relate to me especially during these times i’ve felt so alone💗 you english is beautiful by the way, thank you 😊

tw: grooming - reader was 17 when she meant 24 year old connie / mental abuse / physical abuse - from connie and from readers dad / very mean and manipulative? connie / unestablished relationships / not proofread

such a baby

——————————————————————————————————

“really thought you were over that stupid shit y’know, (name)?” he looks down at you, sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed and spits, “you’re still just a fucking kid.”

he hates it when you cry. you know he does, he knows he does, so you don’t know why it feels like him making it happen is always his main goal.

you sit there silently looking up at him as he scrolls on his phone. after a couple minutes he puts it down and looks down at you.

“you’re gonna have to find a place to go.” your eyes widen all the more and you feel your heart beat quicken. it scares you when he says stuff like that. find a place to stay? where could you possibly go? you feel like you’ve been with connie so long, he’s taken care of you for so long…

“w-what?” you get up suddenly, trying to ease your way into his lap. you’re get even more nervous even harder when he meanly pushes you away, you pretty eyes water.

“c-connie..! hic wh-what— how will i—?” you can’t even finish your sentence you’re so shaken. you really can’t help it, you can’t imagine any life without connie. how could you? he’s the one that took you in, he’s the one that knows exactly what to do when you don’t, he tells you what to do when you’re just about to make the wrong choice. he’s shown you what love is when nobody else could.

while you’re breaking down crying you can tell connie’s losing his patience by the second, he’s getting up waving his hands all type of ways getting all in your face, yelling all types of nonsense.

“dammit (name), shut the fuck up, y’know i hate that crybaby shit, go fix yourself before i do it for you” when you don’t shut up he doesn’t give you a second warning, just slaps you clean across your face. you damn near fly across the room from the impact, connie’s just so much stronger than you.

“—oww ..!” your body shakes as you try to lift yourself up, your crying even harder now. “y-you’re a liar…! you said—you said hic you were d-done hitting me—!”

he stomps over to you, eyes wide and mad while he starts dragging you by your little arm to the front door, “who the fuck do you think your talking to?! i don’t owe you shit you know that, little girl?!”

connie goes to open the front door, “i’m fucking tired, (name) i’ll sleep like a fucking baby without your fucking crying tonight—”

when you don’t stop he freaks out a little more. he hates when you don’t listen.

“think i fucking won’t?” he gets louder, “think i won’t put you out this fucking house, right now?! i don’t give a fuck what time it is—!”

connie drags you back to your shared bedroom and starts ripping your clothes out wherever he can find them and putting them in so random bags, while you cry and hyperventilate. he doesn’t give one fuck, to him you deserve this shit. you’re always running your mouth.

“who got you all this shit, huh?!” he moves on to the vanity and starts packing all your cute little jewelry, breaking some in the process.

he stops for a second and just looks down at you. veins popping out of his neck as he screams, with the bag he’s stuffing all your belonging in tightly gripped in his hand and that mean look of sternness in his eyes, you realize just how how much older connie really is. just how scary he is. with him being 7 years older than you and all, you’ve always put connie on the high horse, always seen it as a flex. but you don’t think you’ve ever really seen it until now. how truly scary he can be.

“you wanna go back, (name)?” he takes a deep breath. “you wanna go back to that shit everyday? living in that fucking house, getting treated like some fucking shit?”

you sob when he finally lets go of your now bruised arm. he goes to sit on the bed.

you were 17 and connie had just turned 24. it was late out when you ran away from home. you were sick of it. your dad was terrible to you, all the yelling and screaming and the bruises—you couldn’t take it anymore. connie was one of your friends older cousin, you had meant him at her birthday party and you think you fell in love. he just seemed so…mature. at the end of the night when he saw you all alone, he went up to you and asked if you were alright. turns out your dad was pissed so he didn’t pick you up. connie couldn’t be more excited to hear that shit. cute little shy teenager, and she’s got daddy issues? he hit the jackpot. he ended up taking you home and giving you his number, in case you ever, “needed anything.”

you’d call connie whenever, no matter what. he always knew exactly what to say.

one night your dad blacked your eye and you called connie. connie showed up 8 minutes later and came barging in, beating the shit out of your dad. that was the last night you heard from your dad and the last night you ever weren’t by connie’s side. you’ve been living with him ever since. you’ll never forget that first night he held you in his bed. he whispered about how everything would be ok and how much he’d take care of you. and you believed it.

it’s been only 2 years since then and connie’s still that ever so cool senior that you look up to. you love connie to death and you don’t think you ever won’t. he knows you’re completely dependent on him now too, he thinks he'll always use it to his advantage.

“you’re such a baby.” you look up at him and he nearly melts, he wants to fucking ruin you. you eyes are all glossy and swollen from crying, your lips are stilly wobbly from the wailing, and your tears—don’t even get him started on the fucking tears.

connie thinks about how perfect you are.. you’re already as naive as you could possibly be, but the age gap just puts it more in his favor.

you look in his eyes to see if that gaze is still there…you know, the loving one even after everything, and it is.

“i love you….” you whisper it like it’s a curse, anxious for his answer.

connie smiles and kisses your forehead watching you light right back up just from the small gesture.

“i know you do.”

[alenseress]

"Oh. Hah."

Elias makes his way in without much commotion to it. There's certainly enough space around Jon's somewhat limp body sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of the doorway and he makes use of it, eventually stopping to neatly fold his coat. Jon is not entirely sure he finds it in him to be surprised. Or scared. Or, maybe, he just doesn't have enough will of his own left to feel pretty much anything.

"Take the shoes," he clears his throat out, trying to find his voice. "Take the shoes off. Georgie doesn't—"

"I know."

Of course.

"Of course," he blinks first and shuts the door second.

They go by a kind of move-stare-follow protocol while Elias proceeds to make himself at home. Although it's mostly Jon doing the staring, Elias doesn't look at all. He walks across the flat blindly, like his muscles remember the floor and the corners. Jon supposes they might, in some omniscient and messed up way.

"Charming," Elias proclaims dryly at the thin mattress Jon came to inhabit.

"Indeed," Jon echoes.

Seeing the man plop down gracelessly in his thick flannel suit doesn't have the same effect anymore. Jon used to think it was some weird corporate thing, something they'd teach you at a workshop about great leadership. Make yourself approachable. Sit down with them on a dusty curb in the back alley, share a cigarette, address them by their names. Crush a man's scull into a purée in their office. Make them feel. Make yourself human.

"Don't," Elias said softly as Jon takes a breath in.

He reaches out a hand that Jon doesn't take. Instead, he sits at the opposite end of the mattress, feeling a sudden vertigo. Elias drops the hand into his lap, palm up. "You're burning up."

Jon cracks a hysterical laugh, heavily propping himself up. He feels a tug at his chest, a yearning for a solid form beside him, spitting "fuck you" in the viper's face — a sad, childlike desire, to call for Tim like he'd make all the monsters go away in an instant. Jon squints at the hungry void across from him, all alone, he's so alone, and the monster creeps closer. Elias takes his still burning, still bubbling hand in a firm hold and tugs until the void swallows Jon whole. He watches the fall of his own body, wet forehead pressed into the wooly fabric, bones twisted in an unnatural position. Elias jolts involuntary as Jon tumbles into him but sits still for the few excruciating moments Jon needs to collect himself. Mentally, mostly, because to recuperate his body on the ground — mattress, — and push himself up against the wall proves to be easier than walking.

They sit now, shoulders and sides touching, and Jon now can't see the void. He closes his eyes to be sure and pants heavily.

"What are you doing to me?"

"Nothing. You're just dehydrated."

"Sure."

Elias sighs and runs circles over his wrist.

"I might get sick," Jon adds.

"You are."

"No, I mean." He gestures vaguely, shaking off the cold fingers. "I mean puke."

"Mhm."

Jon makes an effort to pull his knees up and double over, curling in on himself. He breathes, fast and panicked, trying to will the nausea away and the cold hand returns to pet steadily at his back. Jon feels a very particular nothing about it being there.

"You..."

Killed. A complete sentence, not even an accusations, because Jon doesn't know how to finish it. Leitner. Gertrude. Sasha. You killed me, he wants to say, even when he's still hurting and breathing.

"Time and place, Jon. There's no use to try right now."

Jon squeezes his head between his knees and wants to wail. He wants to cry more and he wants Elias to be gone. He does get away, truth be told, the mattress shifts and pangs and Jon doesn't know if this twisted delirium of his is ever coming back until Elias carefully unfolds him.

"Don't get the wrong idea," he sounds almost amused as he cradles Jon close, pushing a bottle into his hands and palming greasy hair out of the way.

Jon drinks in gulps that hurt him more than the burning and drops his head onto the bony shoulder in some exhausted kind of surrender. Elias smells like the archives. Cologne and cigarettes, too, but mostly dry rot and dust. Never sweat. Never the must of a human body. Jon feels cold terror bite at his ankles and curls up again, this time pressing himself into Elias' rigid form, nose buried in satin. He doesn't knows gods, not the way his grandmother did, but he imagines this to be the smell of those catholic statues adorn in silks and left to stale for centuries on end.

Feed your god fearlessly and without hesitation, or it will feed on you.

He feels a gentle press to the top of his head. Might be lips or something else, Jon doesn't know, but he laughs coarsely, clinging to the shirt with bloodless fingers. "Don't get the wrong idea."

He doesn't really think there are any wrong ideas left between them.

Elias hums and it echoes all around. Jon speaks again. "Is this real?"

He's not sure if he's doing the thing, but Elias scratches at the base of his skull with repulsive tenderness and answers earnestly. "It is."

"What do you want?"

"At the moment?"

"I... Yes."

"For you to sleep, preferably."

"Why?"

Jon feels his pitying gaze. Like he's a blind rat staggering in a labyrinth under a watchful eye from the above.

"There's a job to be done, Jon."

Jon pushes away with a sigh, not meeting much resistance, and buries himself into the scattered sheets. Maybe this is the kind of acceptance the underground woman felt in the face of death. He never understood it before, not before a kiss touches his temple and slips onto his cheek. He's not sure he wants the touch. He's not sure if he resents it. Papers slide across the floor, a statement he won't read, not now, not in this room. He kind of expects footsteps and shutting of doors now, but instead Elias gives them some distance and seemingly settles for good, prickly eyes creeping up Jon's spine.

"Do you want to hurt Georgie?"

"No."

"Are you lying?"

"Not to you, Jon."

Jon turns his back on the monster in his bed and doesn't find it in him to care if he doesn't wake up.

[sissylittlefeather]

Suspicious Minds: Part 3

A/N: Phewwwww alright, y'all. I finally was able to finish this!!! I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out, so I hope you all love it too! Please let me know your thoughts in the comments. Seriously, we writers live for that. Your love was the only way I was able to break through that writers block!

Need to catch up? I know it's been awhile. Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS ALLOWED, kissing, cussing, gun violence, blood, espionage, and sex, oral sex (m receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: ~4.4k

"Elvis!"

bang

******

You cringe and shudder as the bullet hits the wall right behind your head. Elvis rips the earpiece out of his ear and tosses it on the ground, stomping on it quickly. Before you even register what's happening, he does the same thing to yours.

"Elvis, what the fuck is going on?!" You ask shakily. He grabs you and pulls you to him, holding you tightly and trembling.

"I just either uncovered two traitors in our organization or betrayed my country."

"Why did you almost shoot me?!" He pulls back and cups your face in both of his hands.

"They told me you were working for the enemy. Tell me that's not true, honey."

"Of course it's not! I swear it, Elvis, I-"

"I trust you." He leans in and kisses you. "I lo-"

Just then the door busts open and multiple armed security guards enter the room, automatic weapons pointed in your direction. Elvis turns and pushes your body behind his. That's when West saunters in.

"Ah, Agent Presley, I knew you would be a problem for me."

"West. I should've known, you fucking rat-"

"I think that's plenty. Grab him, boys." The guards approach Elvis and he fights back, but they get him restrained and drag him away from you. "Her too."

You shake your head as the guards grab you and pull your hands behind your back with zip ties.

"Elvis!"

"It's okay, honey, I'll come for you as soon as I can. It's okay."

But it doesn't feel okay as you're dragged down a hallway to a room away from Elvis. They plop you in a chair and the two armed guards assigned to you circle like sharks.

You sit in the chair trying to assess the situation. Maybe you should just wait for Elvis to come to you. But you are probably significantly less guarded than he is. You can't just wait here. What if they kill him? No. That's too much to even think about.

You look between the guards and try to figure out what to do. As you do, tears begin to stream down your face. How did you get here?

"Shut up that crying." One of the guards yells at you.

"I can't! I don't belong here. I'm just a person. I'm not a spy." You continue to cry hysterically, increasing in both volume and intensity and an idea occurs to you.

"I said shut up!" The guard hits you across the face and you yelp in pain. You don't stop crying though. If anything, that makes it worse. You shudder and hiccup and cry with everything inside you. "I said-"

"I'm sorry! I can't help it! I'm so scared and I don't know what to do! I need my meds." The guards exchange a glance.

"Meds?"

"Yes! For my anxiety. I have them in my pocket. Please." You sob loudly again and the guards look at each other.

"No. Just shut up."

"I literally can't! Please! I won't do anything. I'm just a girl. What would I do?"

"No." He says it shakily. You can tell his resolve is faltering as you continue to sob openly.

"Please! Just cut me free and let me take my medicine. That's all I'll do. I promise." The guards seem to be trying to communicate silently. You whimper and cry and pray that they'll let you free. Finally, one of the guards walks to you and pulls out his knife. The other one shakes his head.

"If this'll shut her up then it'll be worth it." The guard leans down and slices open the zip ties at your wrists.

Before either of them can register what's happening, you rip the gun out of your shoulder holster under your vest and shoot the guard with the gun in the head.

"Oh God. Fuck." You try really hard to ignore what you just did. Your love for Elvis outweighs any other hesitation. You quickly point your gun at the other guard who has his hands raised, daring him to do or say anything.

"I'm going to leave here, and you're going to let me." The confidence in your voice shocks you. But still, you walk to the door and sneak out, leaving the guard standing there in shock.

Alarms blare as you search from room to room for Elvis. You have no idea what you'll do when you find him, but leaving without him is not an option. After a decent amount of time, you open a door and find him sitting in the middle of a room, hands zip tied behind him. Your heart stops when you see him. They've obviously been beating him. To what end, you're not sure, but his face is bloody and swollen and it breaks your heart. You immediately rush over to him, pulling the knife from your boot to cut him free.

"Baby, how did you-?"

"Shhh, Elvis, we need to get out of here." You get him completely cut free and he leans against you as you move towards the door. When you get there, he stops you and kisses you.

"You're incredible. I need to to tell you-"

"Elvis. We really have to go. They'll be here any second." He nods and lets you guide him out the door and up staircases. You manage to make it to the roof without running into anyone else. But once you get up there, you stand there with him wrapped around you, not sure what to do next.

"What's your plan, babe?"

"This was it. I don't know-" You're cut off by the sound of a chopper hovering close to the roof. Elvis pulls his gun out and points it at the helicopter, but the door swings open.

"Get in!" Its Nine. Part of you freezes. Whose side is she on? "All hell's broken loose. Get in the fucking helicopter!"

You decide you don't have a choice and half carry Elvis over to it and climb in. You slam the door and she takes off quickly.

"Well, that didn't go as planned, did it?"

"You could say that." Elvis yells over the sound of the chopper. You make the rest of the journey in silence, but she doesn't take you back to headquarters. Instead, she takes you somewhere else. It's not until you land that you realize you're at some kind of government location. She cuts the engine and the blades slow and you are finally able to speak.

"Where are we?" She looks at you, seemingly trying to decide how much she should tell you.

"Langley. My organization is shot. We need big guns." She leads you into the building and you're greeted by the deputy director of the CIA. Nine does all the talking as you hold Elvis up. He does his best to stand on his own, but you can tell he's in a good deal of pain.

Eventually, they separate you all to tell your pieces of the story. You sit with an agent and tell him everything, starting with the night you downloaded the information.

"And where is that flash drive?"

"We gave it to the Colonel." The agent curses openly.

"That traitorous bastard will be on the first plane to a country that doesn't extradite."

"I'm sorry."

"We'll get it back." You continue your conversation until he finally dismisses you. He takes you down to the cafeteria to eat something and then brings you back up to a waiting area of sorts. They appear to do the same with Elvis and he sits next to you about an hour after you sit down.

He immediately turns to you and wraps you in a hug, kissing your cheek.

"Honey, I'm so glad you're okay. I thought I'd lost you." He gently brushes his thumb across your face and looks into your eyes.

"I'm right here. We made it out."

"Yes, but you failed the mission." Nine appears, looking between the two of you cuddled together in the chairs. "You're obviously fired, Agent Presley."

"I know I should care, but right now, I really don't." He looks back to you, his hand on your face again.

"Good. That means you can work for me." The deputy director chimes in, interrupting your moment with Elvis.

"Work for you? Here?" You ask genuinely curious.

"Yes, here. The mission still needs to be completed. I'd like to have you both work here to make sure it gets done. Once that is complete, we will consider you for other projects in the future. Our concern is your skill, not your relationship status." Elvis looks to you as you nod and smile and then up at the deputy director.

"I think we can make that happen, boss." He stands up and shakes his hand, grimacing with the pain of getting on his feet.

"But not today. You two need some time to recover. We will resume the mission in 48 hours." Nine nods to the deputy director.

"We'll put them back in the safe house until then."

You both breathe a sigh of relief that you'll be alone again soon.

******

It's dark when you finally get back to the safe house. Elvis is really glad to see his Stutz is still there. He unlocks the door and you both drop your bags on the floor and wrap yourselves around each other, but he winces and pulls back.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize. Let's just get you cleaned up." You take him into the bathroom and manage to find a bowl and washcloth. He leans against the counter as you gently dab at his face to remove the dried blood. When you finish, he takes your hand and kisses your palm softly.

"Thank you, baby." He's dying to tell you what he's been trying to get out all day, but his exhaustion gets the better of him.

"Okay, let's get you into bed. You need rest." He nods and allows you to lead him into the bedroom.

You sit him on the edge of the bed and begin to undress him carefully. He grimaces as you move him to remove his jacket and shirt. The bruises on his ribs are starting to turn dark purple and it breaks your heart to see them. Your fingers are featherlight as you graze them over his skin.

"Oh, Elvis."

"It's not so bad."

"You don't have to play tough for me." He pulls you down into a kiss. Keeping his lips pressed to yours, he turns and lays back on the bed, bringing you down with him, his hand on the side of your face. He backs away from the kiss and his eyes flick between yours quickly. It's like he's trying to decide something. You stare into his eyes silently waiting and he finally opens his mouth.

"Baby, there's something I've been trying to tell you all day." Your heart flutters as he moves a piece of hair out of your face.

"Yeah?" He swallows hard. You can tell he's nervous too.

"And you don't have to say anything. I know it's quick, but I just can't wait anymore."

"Elvis-"

"I love you." It hangs in the air like something tangible, falling on you like soft rain drops. You close your eyes and let it wash over you. "Baby?"

Your eyes open and you lean in and kiss his cheek. You kiss above his eye where there's a deep cut. Then you kiss his other cheek, the end of his nose, his jawline, his forehead, and finally land at his lips. Then, you whisper.

"I love you too." He pulls you in to kiss you deeply and presses his forehead to yours.

"You do?"

"Of course I do." He smiles and kisses you again and then backs off quickly, grunting in pain. You kiss his neck and start to move down his chest, softly pressing your lips to the places where the bruises are forming. He whimpers as you leave a trail of kisses down his abdomen to the line of hair that leads down into his pants. You undo his belt and begin to strip him from the waist down.

"Honey, I want nothing more than to make love to you, but I can't really move-"

"Then don't. Be still and let me take care of you." His cock bounces free, standing at full attention, as you remove his pants and settle between his legs.

"Honey-OH!" He leans his head back and moans loudly as you take him in your mouth. You use one hand to push his foreskin back and then pull him deeply into your throat. "Goddamn, baby, that's good."

His hand goes to your hair and he grabs a handful as you bob up and down on his dick. You run your tongue up the bottom of his shaft and then lick a slow circle around the head. Then, you go back to bouncing up and down and pull him into your throat again. His hips buck and he moans and you know he won't last much longer if you keep this up. You pull off of him and stand up next to the bed, stripping off all of your clothes. He reaches up and touches your body, squeezing your breast gently, dragging his thumb across your nipple, and then moving down to your center where he rubs circles on your clit.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You have me body and soul, honey."

"I'm yours, Elvis." You whisper as you climb on top of him and straddle his hips. He groans as you sink down onto him, taking his whole cock inside you. You start to slowly grind against him, pushing him even deeper and he whimpers. "Does it hurt?"

"God, no, baby." You smile and lift your hips, sliding him back into you as you lower yourself. He grabs your hips and holds them, moving you up and down on himself sensually. "Mmm I'm not gonna last long."

"That's okay." He moves one hand back to your center and moves his thumb on your clit. "Me neither, if you do that."

You throw your head back as you ride him a little quicker and he continues to rub your sensitive bud. You moan softly and sweat as he groans and tenses under you.

"Cum with me baby. I'm so close."

"Yes, fuck. Me too!"

You both move a little faster, trying to push the other over the edge. Finally, your climax bursts inside you and you come so hard just as he grunts and bucks his hips up into you one last time, filling you with his release. You shudder and pulse around him as he trembles and groans. He pulls you down to his chest and holds you close as you both try to catch your breath.

"I love you, Elvis." He kisses the top of your head and sighs.

"I love you too, baby." He mumbles and you lay in silence for a few minutes before you realize his breathing has evened out. You look up at him and smile. He's asleep. For the first time in days, you feel completely relaxed and drift off to sleep in his arms.

******

For 48 glorious hours, you're in the safe house enjoying the bliss of being together uninterrupted. At the end of it, you dress again for the mission and he kisses your forehead with his arms wrapped around you.

"No matter what happens, remember that I love you. We can do this, baby." You nod and snuggle into his chest.

He drives the Blackhawk back to Langley and you both get out and walk in. You're led to the roof where there's a helicopter waiting for you. You find yourself again with a voice in your ear telling what to do and you start to have flashbacks to the last time you did this. Your anxiety hits the roof. Elvis can feel the change in your demeanor and he reaches over to take your hand and squeeze it gently. He gives you a smile and you breathe a little easier. Something about having him close by makes you feel like you can do anything.

Next thing you know, you're being dropped on the roof again. Security shows up a little quicker this time, but you make it inside. There are more armed guards and it's harder to make it to your destination. Elvis also has a harder time fighting hand to hand with all of his injuries. Still, you're doing okay and making it to your destination.

"One last corner, baby, then we're in the room." You nod and Elvis grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. He's smiling at you, distracted, when he walks around the corner.

bang

*

*

*

*

*

*

Everything is in slow motion as you watch in horror while Elvis's body hits the floor in front of you. Somehow, you think fast enough though to pull your gun before you turn the corner and shoot the guard. Turns out your aim is pretty good and he hits the floor too. You frantically kneel next to Elvis and watch as his fingers turn red where he holds the wound.

"Oh God."

"Angel! What is it? Is Agent Presley down?" Nine asks sternly in your earpiece.

"Yes!" You holler shakily in response.

"You have to continue. We will send someone to help."

"No! I'm not leaving him."

"Angel, you have to-" You rip the earpiece out and set it on the ground, turning your attention to Elvis where he lays on the floor in what is quickly becoming a pool of blood.

"You have to stop the bleeding." He growls, grabbing your hand.

"What? Elvis-" Your voice comes out a panic-stricken screech.

"You can do it. You need to cover the wound and then tie something around it to keep it in place."

"Keep it in place? I'll just hold it?" You strip off your vest and press it against the wound, holding it down as tightly as you can.

"You have to tie it in place so you can finish the mission."

"No! I'm not-"

"Listen to me. If you don't finish this, then it's all for nothing. Please. You have to do this. For me." His blue eyes plead with you and you know you can't tell him no. You rip your shirt off and tie the sleeves around him tightly to hold your vest in place on his bullet wound. Left in just your undershirt, you shiver a little, but you'd give every article of clothing to save him.

"I don't think I can do this."

"You can and you will, baby." He reaches up to touch your face, but his fingers are covered in blood. You grab his hand in yours and kiss the back of it. "I love you."

"I love you too. Please don't die." He smiles weakly.

"I'm not plannin' on it. Now go." You snatch the earpiece off the ground and stuff it back in your ear. Giving Elvis one last quick kiss, you stand and look up and down the hallway. You hear someone coming and pray that it's help and not another guard, but just in case it is, you quickly slide into the room and lock the door behind you.

Breathing deeply, you walk to the computer and start your part of the mission. Surprisingly, no one bothers you and you're able to download evidence of West's and the Colonel's treason with no issues. Then, you plant a virus given to you by the tech team at the CIA and watch as their system begins to crumble. That's when the alarms go off.

You sneak back out into the hallway, gun drawn, but there's no one there. Even Elvis is gone and there's nothing but a bloodstain where he was lying. You say another quick prayer that he's been rescued and not found by the wrong people. Miraculously, you make it back up to the roof without having to shoot anyone else. It seems like everyone is too busy dealing with the system crash to find you.

You run to the chopper as it lands on the roof and jump in, expecting to see Elvis there. But he's not. The helicopter is empty except for the pilot. You scream at him that you have to go back, that you're not leaving Elvis behind, but he ignores you, taking off as soon as the door is shut. He can't hear you over the sound of the blades, so he doesn't notice that you cry hysterically the whole way back to Langley.

Back in the building, you stomp and scream at anyone that will listen, begging them to tell you where he is. They shake their heads and tell you they don't know and you become more frantic by the second. Finally, you locate Nine and run to her.

"Where the fuck is he?!"

"Angel, calm down-"

"No. I want to know where he is! Did you leave him there?!" She purses her lips.

"Of course we didn't leave him! He's in surgery. It doesn't look good. If you'd stop screaming, I could take you to the hospital."

"Surgery? No." All of the adrenaline that was keeping you standing is sucked out of you when you realize he may not make it. You fall to the ground weeping quietly. "He's going to die and it's all my fault."

"I said he's in surgery. They're still working. Don't give up on him yet. Come on." She drags you up off the floor and half carries you to her car.

At the hospital, the doctor comes to you to explain what's happening, but all you hear is that he's in critical condition, has lost a lot of blood, and they're not sure they can get him back. You nervously pace the hospital waiting room, chewing your nails until they bleed. Nine watches you, in awe of your dedication to him. Several hours later, she tries to encourage you to take a break.

"Angel, why don't you go take a shower and change. Eat something." For the first time, you realize you're still in your undershirt, dirty and covered in Elvis's blood. You haven't eaten in almost 14 hours.

"I can't leave him."

"Then at least sit down." You nod and drop into the chair next to her, your exhaustion winning out. "You really love him, don't you?"

"I do. I can't lose him."

"I hope you don't." She pats your hand awkwardly. You can tell she's not one for conversations about feelings. But you are grateful that she hasn't left you alone. You're about to tell her as much when the doctor comes back. You immediately stand up and walk to him quickly.

"Doctor, what-"

"He's alive." Your heart skips and you breathe for the first time in hours. "It was touch and go and he has a long recovery ahead of him, but he is alive. I can take you to him."

"God, yes, thank you doctor." He leads you down a hallway to a room. It's dark with lots of beeping machines and you nearly lose it again when you see Elvis laying there on the bed. He seems almost childlike in his vulnerability and it makes you love him even more. You go to his side and sit down, gently taking his hand.

"He won't be awake for a while. You can go home-"

"No. I'll stay." The doctor shrugs.

"Alright, then. Let us know if you need anything." He leaves you alone and you lay your forehead on the bed. The exhaustion hits you and you're sound asleep in minutes.

You wake up to the sun peeking in through the curtains and a nurse there to check his vitals. You sit up quickly and look at him.

He smiles warmly.

"Hey, honey, you're awake."

"I'm awake? You're awake! Why didn't you wake me up?!" He reaches out and caresses your cheek gently.

"You were sleepin' so good, baby. I didn't want to bother ya."

"Elvis Presley, I could slap you right now."

"Please don't. I'm still in a lot of pain." You smile despite yourself and then start to giggle. He tries to laugh with you, but it hurts. Then, your giggles turn to sniffles as the tears start to slide down your cheeks. You wrap your arms around him and kiss him gently on the lips and then on the cheek. "Aw, honey, now why are you crying?"

He catches your tears with his thumbs and wipes them away.

"I thought I'd lost you." He pulls your face down to his and presses his forehead against yours.

"Baby, it's gonna take a lot more than that to get rid of me." You smile and close your eyes. "I love you."

He whispers and you whisper in return.

"I love you too."

******

One year later

You're in the kitchen staring at water and waiting for it to boil when you hear the front door open.

"And just what kind of time do you call this?" You holler to him. He saunters into the kitchen.

"Some of us have real jobs that require paperwork." He walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder. "We don't all get to work in a cushy office at headquarters."

You turn to face him and he kisses you tenderly.

"Listen, it's not my fault you botched that job and had to fill out a report. The direction I gave you was good, you just weren't listening."

"I was a little distracted. I kept thinking about you naked on top of me last night." You gasp playfully.

"You naughty boy."

"You love me." He kisses you again.

"I do love you, Agent Presley." He smiles and you kiss the end of his nose.

"I love you too, Agent Presley." This time he kisses you deeply, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You completely forget about the water you were waiting to boil as he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom.

He was right about one thing on the night you met him. You never needed that pink vibrator again.

******

The End!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@arrolyn1114 @ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[sanemistar]

cw: angst, slight mention of blood, character death

a few months pass by after you and your husband sanemi’s 25th birthday and both of you remain alive and in good health, so you think there’s nothing to worry about anymore. that you both safely overcame the demise caused by your demon slayer marks that the two of you had already awakened during the final battle against muzan, that your life with him will be filled with nothing but happiness from this point onwards.

only to realize, in the hardest way possible, when one day sanemi collapses on the floor all of a sudden right in front of you, that all of these thoughts about spending the rest of your lives together happily were just foolish wishes of yours that will never become a reality.

you immediately rush to him, holding him in your arms as you put your hand on his forehead that is burning hot. he also seems to struggle with breathing as he starts panting more frequently. you feel your heart clenching tightly inside your chest.

“y/n…” sanemi says your name in a faint voice that’s unfamiliar to your ears. you desperately try to remain positive, suppressing a stream of hot tears from flowing down your cheeks.

“nemi… you’ll be okay, everything will be okay. i promise you.” your voice is as shaky as ever, and you cup his scarred cheeks in the palm of your hands as you softly kiss his forehead.

“t-this might be the last time i see you, so i just want to thank you for everything, thank you for loving me. meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me. i love you so much, my dear y/n.” things get worse when he starts coughing blood, and in this moment you feel your vision getting blurred by your tears that you tried hard to suppress earlier.

sanemi slowly extends his calloused hand and softly caresses your cheeks as he leans forward to place his lips on top of yours in a long kiss as he tries to savor the taste of your lips for as long as possible before he can no longer feel them. such a sweet yet painful bloodly kiss that leaves you feeling overwhelmed.

you helplessly watch as the light and life in sanemi’s eyes start to fade, his eyelids slowly shut, his hand that once caressed your cheek not too long ago hits the ground. you scream his name on the top of your lungs but to no avail, he can no longer hear you. it hits you like a truck in this exact moment that this was your last moment with him, the last time you hear him say that he loves you, and the last time you feel his lips crashing against yours. this is truly the end.

“oh God why didn’t you take me with him, why do i have to stay here alone without him…” you wail endlessly.

your beloved husband, whom you love more than anyone else, even more than yourself, is now dead. he died and took your heart with him. you cry hysterically mourning his loss until you could no longer feel anything anymore.

“until we meet again, my one and only love, my nemi.” still tightly holding onto his lifeless, you place one last kiss on his forehead before you let him go.

note: GOD WHY AM I MAKING MYSELF SOB AT 4 AM WTF IS WRONG WITH ME

[1-800-fuck-this-shit]

“FINALLY YOU LOSER WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG” - someone probably (valid tbh)

【𝘚𝘗𝘖𝘐𝘓𝘌𝘙𝘚 | 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘈𝘛 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘖𝘞𝘕 𝘋𝘐𝘚𝘊𝘙𝘌𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕】

𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘚 1-𝘈 𝘚𝘛𝘜𝘋𝘌𝘕𝘛!𝘒𝘈𝘛𝘚𝘜𝘒𝘐 𝘉𝘈𝘒𝘜𝘎𝘖𝘜 𝘟 𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘚𝘚 1-𝘉 𝘚𝘛𝘜𝘋𝘌𝘕𝘛!𝘖𝘊 | 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛 𝘖𝘕𝘌 | 𝘗𝘈𝘙𝘛 𝘛𝘞𝘖

𝘞𝘊: 1,443

𝘔.𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

akina helped izuku move his all might paraphernalia into his dorm. all his classmates except (you guessed it!) katsuki were happy to see her.

the night after passing her Provisional Hero License Exam, akina originally had plans to watch old all might videos with izuku, but when he told her about his meet up with katsuki, she ended up aimlessly walking around campus. that’s when she heard the overwhelming sound of katsuki’s explosion. she turned around and ran back to where she’d just passed all might.

“they’re fighting. izu-kun and katsuki.”

and though she initially planned to follow him, akina stood still and watched the retired hero run off. instead, she walked to her dorm and laid down.

when she woke up, it was to the sound of incessant ringing coming from her phone. without checking the caller id, she answered.

“hel-“

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THAT LOSER GOT HIS QUIRK FROM ALL MIGHT!”

“…”

she hung up on him.

when it came to it, akina had some interesting choices for her work study.

“hey, hayashi! long time no see! who are you thinking of doing your work study with?”

“oh. hello, ashido. i don’t think i wanna go back to hosu. i might check out one of the agencies that i got internship offers from. maybe ryukyu’s agency or best jeanist’s-“

“NO WAY IN HELL!”

she ended up going to best jeanist’s agency.

she noticed izuku’s mood was off during the first few days of his of his own work study. however, she didn’t get much time to dwell on it before she’d gotten a phone call from a distraught mitsuki bakugou.

there’d been a house fire that night. her mom didn’t make it out.

when katsuki’s mom called him, he’d rolled his eyes but reluctantly answered. he wasn’t prepared for her to tell him, in hysterics, that their neighbor had died.

“katsuki, i need you to listen to me. that girl has no one, now. just for now, i need you to be a hero for her.”

“tch. shut it, hag, i know.”

it wasn’t long after she got that she heard the disruption that is katsuki bakugou.

“GET OUT OF MY DAMN WAY, EXTRAS!”

“you aren’t even in our class! what are you doing here?”

“SHUT IT AND TELL ME WHERE BARNEY’S ROOM IS!”

she became a shell of herself after that.

after the Shie Hassaikai Raid, izuku checked on her everyday (katsuki wouldn’t let him leave the 1-a dorms while he was crying), but it didn’t do much.

katsuki would go out to the kitchen and prep three meals every morning to make sure akina had food for the day. on days when he had his Remedial Courses, he’d ask make izuku to deliver the food.

after staff found out, her work study was promptly ended (prior to all the work studies being canceled), and she’d been excused from class.

she’d returned to class a week later, hair much shorter and choppier, heavy bags under her eyes, and a dead expression on her face.

even though it was sad to see, everyone had almost gotten used to her lack of expression over the recent weeks. so much so that it genuinely shocked them when her eyes widened and her face flushed at the sight of shinsou as he joined class a and b for Joint Training.

“oouu hayashi~ you got the hots for shinsou?”

“.. kaminari, shouldn’t you be with your class?”

akina got grouped with pony tsunotori, juzo honenuki, and tetsutetsu tetsutetsu. she held her own against ojirou until iida managed to get her into the irredeemable jail cell, where she sat until the time ran out.

she enjoyed watching the last two matches, not at all surprised by class 1-a’s swift win in round four.

what did surprise her, though, was the newest addition to izuku’s quirk.

after the final round, akina quickly tracked down her closest friend, not at all surprised to see katsuki right there with him.

life was mostly uneventful until the Paranormal Liberation War.

akina was helping evacuate when izuku took off without so much as an explanation. before she could blink, katsuki was gone, too. even though she wanted to go after them, she knew she had an obligation to help the civilians get out of harms way.

as the scene got progressively more chaotic, akina pushed to help everyone she could. so many were stuck under debris from gigantomachia’s storm.

while she was pointing an older woman in the direction of the nearest rescue tent, she spotted a huge chunk of an apartment building falling.

two small children sat crying right in the landing zone.

before she could think, akina was standing in between of the kids with her hands above her head. most of the concrete turned to dust and fell smoothly. however, there was a rather large piece that didn’t disintegrate until after it hit akina in the head. as disoriented as she was, she made sure to get the kids to safety. she wasn’t even gonna get looked over until one of her peers said something to her.

“dissolvere, you’re bleeding! what happened?”

ears ringing, the girl turned to look at the hero approaching her. their mouth was moving, but the girl couldn’t hear a thing besides an incessant ringing. insisting she was fine, akina went to continue her job.

she didn’t get far before everything went black.

when she came to, she was in a hospital bed, vlad king seated next to her.

“you’ve been out for a few days. the head injury should’ve only kept you out for a day max, but apparently you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

while her homeroom teacher continued to lecture her, akina noticed the far off look on his face.

“what happened?”

“UH? I JUST TOLD YOU WHA-“

“not to me. what happened?”

with a heavy heart, the hero gave his student a run down of everything that transpired. from the heroes storming and evacuating the hospital to the 1-a knuckleheads students getting caught in the middle of it all, he told her everything.

after hearing of the gains and losses, akina yanked the iv out of her arm and ran to the room izuku was in. all but snatching the door open, she came to an abrupt stop at seeing inko midoriya.

upon seeing her closest friend seemingly lifeless and his distressed mother, akina’s heart felt heavy. before inko could get a word out, akina was on her knees, forehead meeting the floor.

“i’m so sorry i wasn’t there to protect him.”

after everything had mostly settled and all the students were safely on campus, they had another problem to deal with.

izuku had disappeared.

he wrote letters to all his classmates explaining the circumstances of his quirk and how he was a danger to them all.

after promptly turning the piece of paper to ash, katsuki set off to find akina. if anyone knew where that bastard was, it would be her.

he made quick work of getting to the 1-b dorms and found her bedroom door cracked open. he pushed his way in and immediately saw the balcony door open, the curtains flowing in the window.

before he could even think, katsuki was on the balcony looking over the edge to see.. nothing.

“you just couldn’t wait to see me laid out on the ground, could you?”

katsuki gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around. tucked in the corner, legs bunched up and head resting on her knees, sat akina. beside her was a piece of paper.

“where the hell is he, hayashi?”

before giving her a chance to respond (she wouldn’t have regardless), the blonde picked up the letter she received from his longest friend rival. it was noticeably different from the ones he and his classmates had recieved.

Akina-chan,

I’m not going to tell you anything you already know. I just want you to understand that I have to do this. We both know that the league wants me. I need to leave. I’m so sorry to leave you like this. I know if I did this face to face, I wouldn’t be able to leave. I love you more than you know. You’ve been my best friend, my biggest support, my sister for my whole life. All I want from you is to take care of yourself. Put yourself first. You’ve been looking after me for years, and that isn’t fair to you. When I come back, I’ll make sure to return the favor. But for now, I just need you to make sure you’re okay.

Your best friend,

Izu-kun

𝘖𝘏 𝘔𝘠 𝘎𝘖𝘖𝘋𝘕𝘌𝘚𝘚. 𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳 ಥ‿ಥ 𝘪'𝘮 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘻𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 (𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭!) 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘬𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘢. 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵. 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘪'𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦? 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩 @starrynightsandcloudydays 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢. 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘢'𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘮𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧. 𝘪 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭. 𝘣𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘪 (≧∇≦)/

— 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Ngl I’m kinda REALLY excited for y’all to read this one, though I’m also slightly worried I bit off more than I can chew.

Part 1 | . . . | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22

Steve gets Joyce situated in a guest room then heads back downstairs. Just as he opens his mouth to address the group, the front door opens.

“Steve? Who’s here?” A semi-familiar voice calls. “There’s bikes and cars all over.”

She rounds the corner and Steve is faced with a younger version of his mother, who blinks at everyone gathered in the living room, then smiles at them. “Hi! I’m Alli.”

Steve feels like he’s going to fall over. All the blood’s drained from his head and his heart gives a painful lurch. “Robin,” he manages, reaching out to grab her without taking his eyes off Alli. “Robin. Now.”

“‘Scuse us, just a minute!” Robin says as she drags Steve upstairs and into the bathroom. He slides down the wall and digs his fingers into his hair as she shuts and locks the door.

“Okay,” she murmurs, placing gentle fingers on Steve’s forearms. “We’re alone. What’s going on?”

He swallows a hysterical sob. “Alli,” he manages to whisper. “Allison. M-my sister.” He gulps, feels like he’s going to throw up. “The last time I saw her, I was seven. She was sixteen. She’d left for a… a girls’ trip in Indy. We’d t-talked on the phone the night before she left to come back home. She was so excited… gonna go out to dinner, one last time. They walked.” He can’t swallow the sob in time and throws himself into Robin’s waiting arms. “S-she got hit,” he whispers. “Drunk driver.” She gasps. “Dead before she hit the ground, according to the paramedics.” He begins to shake. “How’s she alive, Robs? How? She- we- I-”

“I know,” Robin murmurs, holding him close. “Oh, Steve. I’m so sorry. But she’s here, she’s okay. And you’ll be okay, I promise. It’ll be okay.” She hugs him tighter, lets him scrabble at her back until he finds purchase, digging his fingers into her shoulder blades.

A tentative knock on the door. “Me again,” Eddie says. It’s enough to make Steve huff half a laugh. “I think everyone’s kinda wondering what’s happening. And, uh. I’m wondering if you’re okay.”

Robin smoothes a hand down his hair. “Want me to let him in?” She whispers. He nods against her neck. “M’kay. Want me to stay? Or should I go do damage control?”

He sits back and sniffs. “Should probably go,” he admits. “Sorry, Robbie.”

“Hey,” she murmurs, leaning their foreheads together. “You and me against the fuckin’ world, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispers, managing a smile when she kisses his forehead.

She stands and opens the door, smiles wanly at Eddie. “I’ll let him explain.” She slips past him and down the stairs.

Eddie shakes his head as he watches her before turning to Steve, who clocks the exact moment Eddie realizes he’s crying. “Steve?”

Steve sniffs again, rubs at his face. “Yeah.”

“Um.” Eddie sits on the ground, back against the sink, mirroring Steve. “You alright?”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Not in the least.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “With you… I knew. Right? I knew I was coming back, I knew I’d see you again. But her-”

Eddie blinks, frowns. “Your sister? Did you have a… a falling out, or something?”

Steve knocks his head back against the wall. “If only it were that easy,” he murmurs. “Last time I saw her, I was seven. She was sixteen, on a girls’ trip in Indy. Drunk driver hit her.” He swallows, tries to keep the tears in this time. “They were walking, it wasn’t that far from where they were staying. She was dead before she hit the ground.”

“Well, shit,” Eddie mutters.

Steve opens his eyes to regard Eddie. “Pretty much.”

Eddie opens his mouth, then shuts it with a frown. Finally he says, “I don’t know how to make it better, but I do have a joint.”

Steve laughs, only a little hysterically. “Maybe later. I want to, but…”

“You want to see your sister,” Eddie nods. “Do you have any idea how she’s here?”

Steve scoffs. “Not in the least. I’m sure Dustin’ll have at least one theory, though.”

Eddie chuckles. “He probably will.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, until Steve feels like he can face the world—face Alli— without immediately crying again. He sighs. “How do I look?”

Eddie regards him. “Better than I thought you would,” he says, then peers closer. “Damn, Harrington, the hell kinda genes you got to not look like a mess after sobbing?”

Steve chuckles at that. “Thanks,” he says, which he knows isn’t really an answer. “Still kinda feel gross, though.”

“Well, yeah, dude, you’re still covered in Upside Down shit.”

Steve grimaces. “Don’t remind me,” he says, and they both chuckle. He manages a small, genuine smile at Eddie. “Thanks, though. You’re kinda really great at making me feel better.”

Eddie blushes a little, but his gaze is steady when it locks on Steve’s. “I’m glad.”

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[digenerate-trash]

hey its the anon who had the scenario i wanted to ask about. Ok so what if PC managed to skip town. Like ok let me break it down. PC when they got this deal was at the police station for their crimes and was about to be sent to prison and they were just thinking about how their life managed to lead up to this point. And they start crying you know cause they didnt want to steal but they had to to get enough money for robin and themself. And now because of Baileys stupid demands they are now being sent to prison for their crimes. But then the guard opened up their waiting cell thing and this woman came in offering a job. One that according to her needed the expertise of someone like them. When PC asks if the job includes them being a criminal the woman just laughs and says the job isnt anything like that. Its a job that helps people. Helps people that are in the sex trafficking ring get out and live life again. And that they needed someone that is good at gettibg away wihtout leaving evidence and has fighting skills in them. The woman offers PC a place to live as well and a ticket to leave this town should they choose to accept. So of course PC accepts it.

Now the thing is PC doesnt tell anyone this. Not even Robin and especially not Bailey. They know Bailey wouldnt want to let go of his best moneymaker and it would just break poor Robins heart if PC told him they were skipping town. So they simply plan to escape the orphanage duribg midnight and meet the woman at pub street at the train station. The only people that knows PC would be leaving is Jordan and Leighton. Jordan because PC is a temple initiate so of course they have to tell him should they be leaving town permanently. Leighton so he could write in his records that PC would be transferribg to another school. 

And the plan succeeds. PC managed to successfully escape town without any of the yanderes foiling their plan! So how do the YAN DOL cast react? I know the School Li would know of this from their teachers telling them PC transferred. Who would find out first besides the people I have already mentioned? Would they try to get to PC or just wait in Rapechester?

Wow ok so that was a doozy. Would love to see your thoughts on this tho! Take care of yourself and have a nice day.

(I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I didn't mean to take this long promie. I was out of it and everything got away from me)

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Whitney 

Absolutely ruined, he's got no clue why you'd leave him high and dry like this especially after he claimed you as his. He's not having a good time and he's fucking sick of not having you around anymore. As soon as school is over he's hunting you down with nothing but brass knuckles and spite. 

You escaped and that's not how things work around here. You should know that. He's made sure to drill it into your thick skull and yet you left without so much as a goodbye. He's tracking you down and dragging you home. Not to the orphanage. You are staying with him. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Robin

He absolutely can't handle it himself he's crying every day and can't eat or sleep or handle himself at all. He calls around he can't find you. He wants things to work out but he can't see it happening. Robin is trying his best to keep it together but he becomes a terrible shut-in. would probably die in the orphanage alone. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Kylar

Coming after you no exceptions. He's looking through everything he's going through hospital records school records he's digging through baileys stuff and intimidating students. The man is hysterical and panicking. He packs up a bag and promises his parents he'll be back soon before he hits the road. When he does finally track you down he's so happy to see you he's crying. You haven't changed a bit! That's what hell insists on before he knocks you out and drags you back to his home. Youre never getting out of the basement now. (he took your legs)

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Sydney

Pure Sydney is regretfully relieved. Though sad. You were too tempting. You were a lot to handle and he's thankful that youre no longer distracting him and causing issues but he misses you. And he waits for you to come back. He plans on marrying you still. 

Corrupt Sydney is a bit worse. He bothers people in town about where they think you went he causes problems he tries to track you down but doesn't get very far. He's sent back to therapy by Sirris… 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Eden

Let's be fair. You never escaped Eden. He's on high alert all the time. Even if you did manage to get away from his grasp he found you first and dragged you to the cabin. He keeps you held down and in the cage every time you mention leaving. He's not great with letting things go. And he's even worse when you mention needing space. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Avery

Avery thinks this is fine. And it is fine. Youre just an aid date after all he can always get another one. But it still bothers him. Thinking yore out there somewhere. Indulging someone else probably. He says he is okay. He thinks he is even when he drags other orphans who look exactly like you on dates. He makes them respond to your name. He chokes them when they slip up. He is much less patient with them. After a little while he pays a private investigator to find you. 

It only takes a couple of months for Avery to show up to your new job. In person. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Black Wolf

Devastated puppy dog eyes. 

Can't handle it constantly looking for you can't even track your scent anymore. Can't even go into town. 

Blackwolf just has to wait for you back at the cave. He hopes you come back home soon

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Great Hawk

Same as black wolf but with more bird sounds. 

Has a pile of jewelry waiting for you. 

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Alex

Absolutely wrecked. He thinks he's the one whos done something wrong to drive you away. He asks around and finds out youre gone from town and no one can find you. He feels sick all the time can't even take care of the farm anymore

He doesn't track you down. He can't even think about you without feeling sick and angry with himself

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Bailey

He's tracking you down instantly. Don't get comfy in your new life because you won't be there for long. He's dragging you back home within days of your disappearance and hes pulling no punches. 

Youre chained and locked away forever now. He's never letting you go and for the next few weeks, he refuses to talk to you. He treats you terribly and can't even look at you. Pissed off that you would ever even think of leaving

•···········································•✦•···········································•

Harper

Good luck escaping this fuck :)

[my-stories-vault]

Part 6 ~ Purgatory Series.

Pairing: American Dean Winchester X English Y/N L/N; American Dean Winchester X American Y/N L/N.

Blurb: Purgatory suits you, to be honest. Plenty of distractions to choose from, you can kill as many as to your heart's content. And your heart is one insatiable bastard—it'll do anything to keep the memories of your ex away. Until a face much similar to his struts up into your territory, looking for you, promising you a home you lost too long ago. Your heart melted once before, do you think you would be able to risk it all again for the same criminally handsome face?

Warnings/Trigger Warnings (18+): Supernatural Wars spoilers, major and minor character deaths, mentions of previous major character deaths, violence, gore, tons of angst, (sort of, but not really) love triangle, language, self-sacrifices (not exactly suicide), betrayals, etc.

Note: This was written four years ago and English is my second language - I've tried to edit without losing the past-me's "authenticity", but let's face it, spellings ain't my strong suit, and even Grammerly gave up, soooo all the mistakes are mine 🙂🙃.

{ Series Masterlist ; Main Masterlist }

Purgatory Series: Part 6.

Of course, you ran fast. He always knew that. Even in your damn five-inch heels and a gown that could suffocate most people you were faster than a man who had legs longer than yours. How was that even fucking possible?

What was more shocking was that you were so fast that not only did you overtook him and vanished between the trees, but also you reached the cabin, packed your bag and left.

You freaking left. And he didn't even see you leave, much less catch up to you.

When he saw the door was shut on the shared cabin, he thought you were inside. After much insistent knocking, he finally pushed in - to find the place empty - void of all your belongings, as if you had never even existed in the first place. Had you been his imagination this whole time?

He would have believed the latter had Kan-fir and his subjects not asked for you when they followed Dean to the gazebo. They had seen you, so you were real.

Where the heck are you, sweetheart?

You don't remember how fast you ran, you don't remember where you went. You just know you were sprinting in the direction your legs had been taking you. You must have a good muscle memory since you reached the cabin sooner than you thought you should have.

Practically yeeting yourself through the door, you pulled the duffel and emptied it of majority of your weapons, keeping the essential bare minimum. You stashed your journal in it, two of your Dean's shirts, two usable jeans your size and Dean's tick leather jacket that sometimes acted as your armour.

When you were done packing, you froze in the middle of the gazebo: What now?

All you could think was that you needed to get out of here. You need to leave. You couldn't do this to yourself, you couldn't suffer through another heartbreak. First time destroyed you, the second time, you wouldn't live.

This is all your fault, you thought. This is all your fucking fault!

'What did I do?' a robotic, honeyed voice asked.

You twisted on the balls of your feet. Glazed eyes gave you a hysterical appearance, proving to be your most dangerous state yet.

'You . . . murdered him,' you whispered, at first. 'You murdered him!' you yelled like it were a battle cry, launching yourself at the Castiel's other version.

Castiel fell on the group with you straddling his waist raining down a stream of punches that merely turned his head right and left, hurting your knuckles far more than they did his face.

'You asshole!' you shrieked, feeling the salt on your tongue as tears fell into your screaming mouth. 'You killed the man I love! You killed them all!'

'I'm sorry,' he apologized between punches, driving you craizier.

'You're sorry!?' you clasped his collar. 'You ruined my life! You took everything from me!' you sobbed.

Are you singing the Tangled song? he sniffled.

Called the Healing Incantation, you answered. You do associate Dinsey with love.

When did you learn it?

When I realised I have to give my dork of a fiancé a nice present for his birthday—happy birthday, Dean, you'd kissed his cheek.

Doesn't feel happy, his arms around you had tightened desperately.

Maybe next year, then it might.

Next year was Dean's last birthday, his thirty-second. No one was left to sing the Tangled song for you.

Your hands fell away from Castiel because your body had started shivering. You slid off of him, too weak to sit straight. You had to lean against a pillar so you didn't curl up on the floor in a fetal position.

'You ruined my life!' you choked, barely able to breathe between your wails. 'You ruined me! You killed him! You killed them—!'

Your silent scream ate up the rest of your sentences. All your strength, your stoicity stripped from your face in the most ugliest way possible. You had to hold yourself before you fell to the ground in pieces.

Castiel watched you for a beat, sympathy pooling in his baby blues. Awkwardly, he rose to his knees and you silently begged him to make it quick.

Instead, he shocked you with a hug.

You didn't even have the enegry to fight him. Your words had turned into an incomprehensible gibberish - somehow that was an accurate inner representation of you.

Cas had but one thing left to do when your thoughts reached his angelic mind: he teleported you and your things, all of it, even the things you didn't pack, everything that could be a reminder of you.

Maybe he should have thought more, but he had heard Dean's footsteps near the cabin, and that forced his decision further along.

All he knew is that you and Dean weren't good for each other if this was a state you were reduced to.

Weeks passed and then months.

Purgatory became a routine to Dean as well. He had to leave the Borax forest to keep searching for Castiel, but his search had expanded: he was looking for you too now.

You couldn't be his imagination: his broken could never imagine a woman as beautiful as you and he certainly couldn't imagine all that you made him feel . . .

Along the way, he met Benny, per your original plan. A vampire who'd heard about the humans looking for the portal and he'd tracked down Dean. He helped Dean on the condition that he would get to leave Purgatory as well.

What started out as a business deal between a human and a monster turned into a friendship and then a brotherhood, based on mutual trust and care between two souls lost in Purgatory.

It was better than you could have expected it to go.

After inspecting Castiel for a while, it didn't surprise you that this Benny was a good being, full of valour; unlike your Universe's Benny.

You chalked it up to the fact that wars made a monster out of everyone. In some twisted sense of irony, you can see why all the Leaders, of all factions, ended up dead - it was justice that all the perpetrators of the war should die.

You'd once commanded troops to war - you were as responsible for all the deaths under your Leadership as the monsters who killed them. You deserved this agony more than anyone.

More than this Dean did. He deserved distance from a screw-up like you. And you would make sure he finds his happy ending. No matter the cost - one last act of redemption before you let the fate decide for you.

Your decision made you face the biggest downside of Purgatory for the first time. You never noticed it until you started capturing monsters instead of simply killy them. Purgatory didn't distinguish between good and bad monsters. A monster was a monster and no matter whether they stayed pure during their spans of life, or if they were the source of anguish for several thousand humans - they all would end up only here.

It made your life tricker when you tried to harnest the "safe" ones from the shadier ones; you were trying to send the non-threatening ones Dean's way so he could torture the "correct" information from them and leave this place.

Although in this game of cat and mouse, sometimes you would be the hunter and sometimes you ended up being hunted.

'Chief,' Benny called, gesturing to the recently spilt crimson, beside the smell, it was visible because of the sheer quantity. 'Think we're close,' the vampire voiced Dean's thoughts.

A nauseous feeling washed over Dean's insides when he saw the blood. Only one person could bleed in Purgatory other than Dean.

The human nodded, eyes latching to the trail of blood that went to the left, slightly upstream.

A monster they had caught - for once, the monster wasn't leading them out of here or towards Castiel - it gave information about you.

Dean wasn't stupid. He knew you must have had a hand in all the monsters who had been acting so cooperative during his interrogations. None of them breathed a word about you, but all of them were helping. But he knew you were around when he'd ask about you and their eyes would dart to the trees.

Dean had always known you were smart, but this was a whole another level. He had known you long enough to know that your cunning: these were the monsters that wouldn't harm them, just the type that would guide them in their quest.

No matter how many monsters he killed in your name, no matter how much he pulled out his hair, he hadn't heard a word about you in almost five fucking months.

Finally, they caught a break!

Finally, a monster who was more afraid of Dean than it was afraid of you.

Finally, when he had started to lose hope . . .

This ghoul could only point which tree you were holed up in—all he had spilled before your arrow had missed Dean's face by inches, piercing the monster's head.

'Y/N, fuck!' Dean had yelled up at you, jumping back in shock.

'Quit being a baby! It wasn't like it was going to hit you,' your reprimand came from the tree you'd been hiding in.

At least, Benny was impressed.

'Y/N, get down here!' Dean demanded, turning in your direction.

You never did deal well with authority; letting out a string of the most colourful curse words, you had somersaulted to another tree before Dean could pin you.

Your panic must've been stronger than you realised for you had tumbled right into a pack of centaurs at a fifteen-minute walking distance from where you left Dean. Swinging took less time, and you could've still swung away but Dean and Benny were following you . . .

Fuuuck.

It was near impossible killing centaurs - you cannot run faster than them, obviously; their human intelligence and ability to wield weapons didn't help your case either. The only advantage you had was your tree skills, and you put them to their maximum use as you threw yourself into the mass slaughter of the half-breeds.

And all you remembered from that fight was that you came within the inch of your life.

Ashes to ashes, right?

You didn't leave the scene without a trail of blood on the ground, no longer able to swing at the end of it.

That's where the boys came in, sniffing the heavy iron in the air, five minutes away from where you lay against a tall tree, black dots dancing around in your vision as you prayed to Castiel to come save you.

Again . . .

A very annoyed and done Castiel materialised from thin air. 'You're dying again?'

You wheezed out a cough, weakly raising your hand as sign of help. 'H-Help . . . '

He sighed, putting two fingers on your forehead while your hand slapped back to the ground beside you. A breath of relief escaped you when white flooded your vision and warmth coursed your bloodstream, sealing your wounds as smoothly as melted butter on bread.

Castiel spoke as he healed, 'I can't recover the blood you lost, so you may black out.'

'Awesome,' you rasped out. 'Dean,' you weakly poked your thumb in the direction the man would show up from.

'You followed him again?'

Castiel seemed exasperated, fingers falling away. A lazy smile spread over your lips, a small nod of your head as your eyelids fluttered shut.

'He will stop looking for us and manage his own way out of Purgatory. If you keep this up, you'll end up dead,' Castiel explained, as if to a rebellious teen.

'Watch me not care,' you muttered as the sweet embrace of sleep pulled you closer.

Castiel sighed, bending down to put his arms under your back and knees, picking you up; he could heard the crunching of dead leaves, branches and roots as hurried footsteps approached you two.

'Do you really love him?'

'So much,' you said, half-asleep. 'Don't you?'

'He's my best friend. But he's not the same man you fell in love with, Y/N - what are you doing?'

You were fast asleep in his craddle-carry. Castiel sighed, flying you away just when the boys reached the spot - and Dean could have sworn he heard a flutter of wings.

A desperate look around brought him nothing.

Benny inspected the trail of blood that abruptly ended; a thought popped into his head: 'What do you think happens to humans when they die in here, Chief?'

'I don't know . . . '

Dean's focus sharpened at Benny's implicit meaning, suddenly, giving him a whiplash. 'You think we turn into ash?'

Benny shrugged lightly, standing up. 'Would make sense why this trail ends into nothing. Maybe that's all that's left of—'

'Shut up!' Dean snapped. His steely green orbs backed his warning: 'Don't you talk about her like that.' The or else was too terrfying for the vampire to ignore.

'I'm just sayin',' Benny retorted, raising his hands in surrender. 'We know you bleed, but we don't know what happens after.'

'We keep looking,' Dean ended the discussion. 'She's not a fucking matyr,' he said; this had been his chant for months.

'Your choice, Chief,' Benny folded. 

After a beat, Benny had to prod. 'You really love her, don't you?'

Dean froze in his spot. Love?

Was this love?

He had never fallen for another person. He had never loved anyone but his family. Was this what Benny said it was?

No. It's too early, right?

He just deeply cared about you.

'Let's go,' Dean said. 'She'll surface again.' He was confident.

As they left the clearing, the trees conferred in the way of rustling leaves and waving branches, the wind and the water whispered in the background. They all wanted to know how this endless game of tag would end, they wanted to know if you and Dean would ever be able to say to one another the three magic word you'd technically confessed to the nature. If only someone could suspend their mystery . . .

'Would you calm your tits, Cas?' you grumbled. 'I'm fine, you can stop fussing now.'

'You're just as bull-headed as Dean is!'

'Thank you,' you took a sarcastic bow, before your resumed your work; you were recruiting all the herbs for your spell.

'I don't see how that's a compliment.'

'You saved me. Now you can leave,' you dimissed.

Not that you weren't thankful for Castiel for always showing up when you needed him these days, but you really wanted to be sans his presence as much as possible. Having your loved ones murdered in front of your eyes and then being buddy-buddy with the murderer was not on your bucket list.

You sat down on the floor of one of your safe-houses, cross-legged with a pot in front of you. After mashing the ingridients together, you would later heat it up on a fire downstairs.

'I don't understand why you keep sending Dean my way. I don't want him to die because of me.'

That sentence was induced with irony on so many levels that you didn't know whether to cry or laugh.

You were sending Dean to Castiel, and the latter man was warning you against this.

Rephrasing: the woman who lost everything was sending what she lost to the man she lost everything to, and that man was warning her not to do it . . . And that was all so that she could save the man she lost (Dean) who actually wanted to save the man she lost everything to (Castiel) . . .

Dear Lord, what happened to your life?

'I haven't had a lasagna in ages,' you mused. 'That dish has so many layers. Kinda like life, huh?'

'Please stop talking in riddles,' he said. 'I'm tired of the position you're putting me in.'

'I'm tired too,' you sighed. 'This is taking longer than I like.'

'What is?' he asked, frustrated.

You chewed your lower lip, sensing that he was reaching the end of patience with you and your non-answers.

'You yourself say that Dean is stubborn,' you began. 'Do you really think he would leave here without both of us? He at least needs to save one person, at least.'

'I don't want to leave,' Castiel pointed out. 'I bought the Leviathans into my world. I don't deserve freedom.'

'You and me both, sister,' you mumbled. 'Someone's still going. Better you than me.'

Castiel processed that. 'Is that why you keep calling me - to convince me?' It dawned on him, 'You have the Purgatory Flower drink, you don't need me to save you!'

'Perceptive,' you quipped dryly. 'Only took you five months.'

Castiel bristled, 'Are you insane!? What if I didn't answer?'

'Then I'd die,' you shrugged. 'At least I wouldn't go back to your earth.'

'So you've stopped making the healing potion?'

'Well, no,' you said. 'But I send all that I make to Dean.'

'You're very annoying,' Castiel noted.

'A pain in the ass,' you agreed. 'But I get the job done, you know?'

'What if I give you to Dean first?' Castiel challenged, but you know his threat held empty.

'I'll kill myself first,' you retorted, nonplussed.

You knew the only reason Castiel hadn't already handed you over was because you'd said this often, he'd come to view you as self-harm case. It was only partially correct and very valuable when you wanted to fool the angel. As long as Castiel had a good heart, you could use him. You were a paradox for the angel.

'I don't want to go back,' he persisted.

'I heard you,' you said without looking up. 'See you next time I'm dying,' you said with a finality.

You heard him fly away.

Castiel wasn't wrong though, about the fact that Dean Winchester is a hard ass - it's true on all planets. The only time he gives up is when he is made to believe that there is no way out whatsoever, and even then it was hard to make him believe.

You knew there was no point in telling him that a human from another Universe couldn't cross the portal, he would just persist that there was another way out and that they spend time looking for it. But you knew well that there wasn't a solution, and that it would only delay his departure from this hellhole. A delay you couldn't afford because the Dwarves were gunning to cash in the favors they'd done on you and Dean - they wanted the Leviathans dead.

With that time crunch, naturally, Castiel was only Plan A. You were more than ten steps ahead of the human, a true war-bred soldier. You would be damned if you didn't put all your intelligence into this.

You're scary, you know that?

What do you mean?

'Y/N ready?' came the squeaky voice from the window.

'Kan-fir, my man,' you said. 'Come in. You're early today.'

'Dwarf meeting at night,' he said. 'Urgent. Meeting with wolves. Full moon.'

'Ah,' you nodded. 'Well, for one, I don't have the potion ready yet,' you gestured at the pot in front of you. 'Second, not many Y/Ns would be sleeping. We need my doppelgangers to sleep so I can hijack their dreams, you know? It's afternoon now.'

'Find Y/N in afternoon nap,' he requested. 'Exception today.'

You sighed. 'I feel like there ought to be a btter way,' you admitted. 'I've visited one fifty-one Y/Ns till now.'

'One fifty-two time the charm?' his brows creased, he offered two crossed fingers.

Your fond smile resisted you from rolling your eyes. 'Fine,' you said. 'This had better work, cutie.'

'Cutie hopes!' he said, waddling up to your pot and shooting some magic on it to make the ingredients cook and sizzle inside.

You took some of it out in a leafy bowl and blew on it before you drank it whole, cringing at the sour taste.

'Put me under,' you said, lying down.

He placed his tiny palm on your forehead, letting his magic seep into you, calming all your thoughts until you felt like you were floating freely - untethered, detached from all the worries of the world.

'You have one hour,' his far-away voice reminded you. 'Cutie wakes you in one hour.'

The leather under your skin was so soft you could sink into your couch, the weighted blanket cocooned you as soft as warm hugs. A light smile flirted with your lips and you often let sighs of tranquility leave your pink pillowy lips. Your mind was at its peak capacity of peace and quiet, locked in the cabin in the middle of nowhere.

No one existed but you. No human, no monster, no fucking misery.

'Nice place you got there,' your voice broke in through your reverie.

Wait, what? you thought to yourself, unwilling to open your eyes and check what the source was. But still, you popped an eyelid open and it took a few moments for your eye to focus on . . . well, you.

That made you wide awake.

Eerily, your face stood in front of you with a smirk. Your face-thief, the one who had spoken, was standing in your modern kitchen that contrasted the traditionality of the rest of the cabin; cooking was the one thing you didn't compromise on.

You rose from your armchair, an annoyed huff perched on your lips as you tried to contemplate this new woman who popped out of literally nothing.

'Hi, I'm Y/N,' the girl introduced, her smile never leaving her face, a thick English accent hugging her words. Her attire consisted of ripped clothes, scuffed boots, no make-up or jewellery - and let you not even get started on her hair.

While you could've walked right out off of a magzine cover. Dressed in a clean sweater and pair of shorts that complimented you really well. Your socks stopped around the ankles, showing off your creamy, smooth skin. Your hair ran down your back in a beautiful h/c tress, your sharp e/c eyes twinkling with vanity, and your features, though soft, had a hard formation - one that came from accumulating years of hardships.

You crossed placed your hands on your hips, an unimpressed look plaguing your otherwise stoic face. 'You're wearing my face, so I'd say that's a given,' you sassed, rolling your eyes, a cold American accent proving to be a stark contrast to the former's friendly Eurpoean one. 'Did I accidentally stumble into your dream? If so, I'll leave. But if you walked into mine, you're gonna be in a world of fucking pain, lady.'

'I take it you're not into socialising,' the Brit stated, unfazed by your unfounded annoyance.

'I isolate myself in my dreams,' you snarled. 'Let's not even talk about how much I hate people in my actual life. And being lonely on purpose - it's not for shits and giggles. So, yeah, you need to leave!'

'I need your help,' she amended. 'You're the dreamwalker, aren't you?' she asked, an excited sheen to her voice.

Your groaned, 'Fuck, not this again. Helping is not my forté, capiché? I don't help you, and I don't help any other Y/N from any other goddamn universe. Didn't you read the sign on my dream door?'

'I think you'd want to help me, though,' argued the invader. 'You're the one I've been looking for!'

'Let's talk over a cup of tea, then,' you mocked.

'I understand your scepticism—'

'I exclusively avoid humans, okay?' you raised a brow. 'Leave, before I'm focred to hurt you.'

She produced a flask with some claret in it, making you tense for a milisecond. She shook it for you. 'It's boiling,' she pointed out. 'It's only meant to boil when I'm in the right place. It's your soulmate's blood!'

Upon those words, your blood ran cold.

'We've talked long enough,' you gritted.

'Hear me out,' she pleaded. 'It's about Dean Winchester,' she explained. 'Your Dean. You're a dreamwalker: I'm sure you have visited a lot of different Universes where our doppelgangers are mated with that guy!'

You squinted at your namesake; she was too knowledgeable to be ordinary . . . and then it hit you like a cold shower.

'Are you that Y/N who was the part-Leader of Europe along with Dean and you both participated in some Supernatural Wars or something?'

'Yes! So, you have visited me,' she asked, getting even more enthusiastic.

'Ugh,' you said, feeling the beginnings of headache. 'Weren't you banished to another planet's Purgatory after they killed your lover or something? Damn, I thought I'd never see you again.' Then, it struck you, 'Wait! Were you banished to my Universe's Purgatory!? Is that how you're contacting me? Because that's not cool.'

Surprise crossed her expression: 'You were looking for me?'

'God, no,' you grimaced with a scoff. 'You were one less face-thief I had to worry about. I was relieved when you were gone. I was really hoping I'd never have to see you again.'

'You called me face-thief!' she practically bounced on her feet. 'You really are his soulmate!'

'You're so emotional,' you made a face. 'Like a dog or something.'

'Look,' she said, 'I understand if you dislike me—'

'Understatement,' you muttered.

'But we need you. Your soulmate needs you.'

'Well, let me just drop everything and come running,' you deadpanned.

'He's mistakenly stranded at Purgatory,' she tried again. 'He needs you badly—'

'Hard pass, lady.'

'Well, why?' she demanded

'Because,' you shrugged.

She waited for a long moment, blinking back her anger when you looked as uncaring as you could.

'He's your soulmate,' she reiterated. 'We don't have much time—'

'Look, Purgatory girl,' you locked eyes with her. 'Lemme tell you something helpful: you're wasting your time. I've been watching my doppelgangers and Dean's since the age of five, a'ight? Not one of them had a happy ending. Now, gimme one reason I should walk into a fucking heartbreak.'

'Because . . . you'll get to love him.'

'Oh, my God, you're such a sap,' you shook your head. 'Now, then: don't let the door hit your ass on your way out. Who knows if you'll start crying because of it.' Even as you said it though, you were the one who closed your eyes and prepared to wake up.

'No! Listen to me, his life is in danger!'

'Then be there for him or whatever you humans do,' you said nonchalantly.

And even though you pretended as if you didn't care, a slight part of you was fighting to keep you in your dream state and making you listen to the woman. You could have easily left if you really, really wanted to . . .

I can still go, you forced your heart.

'. . . I cannot be with him,' desperation coated her words. 'I'm not his. Please. You have to come get him. You need to get him to leave Purgatory.'

No, your inner voice raged, I cannot meet him . . . It would be your ruin like it was everyone else's.

'Sorry, sweetheart,' your resolve hardened.

You snapped your fingers, finally finding the courage to leave her behind, your last words to your face-thief dissolved alongside the dream. 'But in no world are Y/N and Dean meant to be together.'

You shot up with a gasp. The English you. Your nails bit into your flesh as you tempered your anger.

'What a bitch,' you growled.

'What wrong?' pipped up Kan-fir.

'I found her,' you said.

'That great news!' he exclaimed, jumping to his feet to come stand in front of you. 'She come to Purgatory?'

You shook your head with a sigh. 'She'll take some convincing,' you frowned. 'I mean, why can't just people do what you want them to?'

'Tragedy,' nodded Kan-fir. 'What now?'

'I'll keep meeting her, right?' you said. 'At least we know where she is now,' you said, bringing the blood out. 'Thanks for this,' you gave the blood back to Kan-fir. 'I remember how to go there now.'

'See?' he pocketed the blood. 'Blood collection come handy in spell!'

You scowled at him. 'I'm still uneasy that you Dwarves collect blood for you magic spells. I know you have mine.'

'I have deniability,' he smirked. 'You taught me the word.'

You rolled your eyes. 'Today's just not my day, huh? Come on, let's kick some wolf ass.'

'No kick!' he chided. 'We deal. They soldiers.'

'Today's really not my day,' you pouted.

You were pissed. Outraged, really.

Plopping your ass down roughly on the barstool of an unnamed bar in an unnamed town, you glared daggers at no one in particular.

Weeks. Your face-thief has been tormenting you for weeks. You were tired as the everloving fuck, she has been disturbing your sleep!

How the hell was she even getting access to your dreams? And that woman would just. Not. Budge! A true politician, if you've ever seen one. Says she can change the world if you just put your vote of confidence in here.

You told her you didn't even have the tiniest, minutest, negligible interest in this "soulmate" of yours, but apparently, she didn't only have a different accent, but her ability to comprehend English also seemed to be very different than yours.

Muttering another stream of curses under your breath at just the reminder of that whore, you flagged down the nearest bartender, ordering a long list you planned to drown yourself in before any feelings caught up to your heart.

It was seriously, and absolutely the worst thing you could imagine happening to yourself.

Catching feelings for a man I'll lose, you bitterly thought.

If you had thought there was even a percent of chance for you to be with him, you're affirmative that you would've sought him out yourself. Because let's be real, it's not like you hadn't known who Dean Winchester is for years now. He was a legend in the world of hunters and monsters, for fuck's sake. Of course you knew.

But you've also been watching all your face-thieves lose their love of their lives, for thirty years now - how could you not be paranoid?

Apparently, that ironclad logic meant nothing to that asshole, insisting you needed to find him. That you needed to give him a chance. In your namesake's words: "You don't know what's actually going to happen, darling. Look, you need to give this a try because if you don't it is going to end unhappy. But if you do give it a try, there's half a chance that it ends happy!"

Another fluent stream of curses left your mouth for that freak of nature. You downed the alcohol that the bartender placed before you in quick succession, earning pitiful glances from the woman serving you.

In no time, you were drunk as a skunk.

Hours passed, and you only looked away from your goal of reaching the end of yet another bottle when a very familiar laugh pierced your reverie. Your head turned to find a group of people nearby, relaxing in a booth. A normal scene of a group of friends in a bar.

Except your eyes widened at the tall man sitting in the booth.

'What the fuck?' you said under your breath.

Because obviously, it was just your luck that you'd find Sam frigging Winchester in a bar which wasn't where he usually went to relax, in a town where you usually didn't go. But here he was, and here you were. 

As if seeing that man wasn't enough, your drunk mind deemed it appropriate to tempt the fate.

With a fuzzy brain and a shaking hand that sloshed your drunk, you marched to the man who didn't do anything to irk you, yet he'd managed to get your last nerve.

'You!' you snarled, your speech slurring, 'I'm gonna fucking murder you!'

In retrospect, that can be counted as your first mistake.

Blinking in confusion, the brown-haired man took your state in, his hand protectively going around the woman sitting next to him, as she looked between you and the younger Winchester.

'Do I know you?' he asked. Doubtful, cautious, and a tinge of fear.

You hadn't actually officially met. You had just seen him countless times in your dreams. Sometimes seen him be murdered, sometimes seen him get happy endings while you and Dean didn't do so well. Sometimes you had even seen him be the reason for the tragedies you had to face. 

'Your brother knows me,' you supplied, not a complete lie; he knew your face-thief. 'And I'm going to—to murder him, and then, you and everyone in your freaking family!' you slurred, grabbing the edge of the desk as you swayed dangerously.

Unknown to your observation, Sam's jaw had clenched upon the reminder of his lost brother. His hands tightened around the woman who had been his light through this dark period.

'Look, ma'am,' Sam stated, polite as ever, 'My brother is dead.'

The heaviness of his statement brought down a silence over the table, dooming the happy atmosphere of the day.

And it certainly didn't help that you decided to rile the man up with your lack of empathy.

'Yeah, right,' you scoffed. 'Why don't you just say you stopped looking for him? Dude, do you know how tough my life has become? All because of what? You stopped looking for him! For what?! This bitch!?' You gestured towards the woman he was holding on to for dear life. Well, your dear life. Sam didn't know what he'd do to you if his girlfriend wasn't sitting between you and him.

'Why don't you leave before you say something you regret?'

If you remember this when you're no longer drunk, you wouldn't be able to claim that he never warned you. Unfortunately, you decided to keep poking the bear.

'Or what? You're gonna make me regret?' you laughed, a little hysterically. 'Listen here, sweetheart,' you said venomously. 'And listen good. 'Cause I know all about you and your life. And so help me God, if you don't find your brother, I'm gonna ruin it for you! Do these people know what you've done!? Or should I enlighten them, preach them all about your endeavours, you blood-sucking freak?!'

That was your second mistake.

'Excuse me,' Sam said, leaving his table and grasping your arm, jarring you as he drug you out of the place. In the back alley, he threw you to the wall.

You cackled. 'Hit a nerve, didn't I?'

'How do you know about that?' he towered over you.

And if you hadn't been so inebriated, you would have realised how much deep shit you had gotten yourself into.

'What monster doesn't know about the Winchesters, eh?'

You let slip you true nature. The last mistake you made in your life.

Sam's transformed into a true hunter, and his hand drew to the knife he kept on him for safety purposes.

Lost in ranting about how annoying of a brother Sam had, you didn't notice the blade until it was too late.

And let's just say: Irony had probably found its favorite love story - because guess who died and went to Purgatory?

A/N: Things are ramping up, huh? You finally meet the narrator of The Supernatural Wars, hehe 🙃 - what'd you think about her?

{P.S.: I think the past-me got way too cheeky with the fourth wall breaking, lmao 😂😂}

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[ashdreams2023]

Hi, I'm here to ask you to write something about the reader arguing with his parents and running away and how Loki sensing that you need him reaches out to you and comforts you? okay I don't even know how to explain it, you see as long as it's something fluffy. thanks and a hug❤️.

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Loki x male reader

"Why do you always have to hurt your mother and I like this?!" Your father screamed holding your mother who was hysterically crying, this was a familiar sight in your household but lord knows your tired of this, you didn’t do anything wrong, they always play the victims.

"You know what?! I’m leaving how about that!?" You ran out, not thinking where to go exactly but all you knew is that you wanted to be as far as you can from them, and they can go find another son to be up to their expectations since you’re such a failure.

Time passed and all you could do is cry silently out of frustration, they just couldn’t try to understand, they were so stubborn and it hurt.

At one point you heard footsteps and hid yourself more, making yourself smaller and grabbed a long twig from beside one of the tree, it wouldn’t do much but the least you can do is leave a scratch.

But then you saw boots, leather boots, same once as the ones you’ve seen a million times before and before you could register who it was he sat down beside you on the ground and warped his arm around your shoulders bringing you close to him.

"You’re a bit of a wild case aren’t you?" Loki’s voice rang in your ears.

"How did you find me?"

"I just know"

You sniffed and laid your head on his shoulder "I don’t even know why I even both with them, it seems like nothing I do is enough….I’m just a burden on them"

"You listen to yourself, you sound like me and that’s not a good look for you" Loki rubbed your shoulder, it was freezing outside and in your fit of rage left the house with nothing but your sweatpants and plain t-shirt.

"You should’ve came to me you know that"

"I’m not a little kid…I’m a grown man, I don’t need you to baby me whenever I’m not feeling ok" In truth you just didn’t want to burden him as well, it was enough that he worried over you most than others.

"I dislike like it when you lie to me, I know you’re independent and grown but you still need people…being alone is not something you should get used too, I’m here you know"

You shut your eyes close, you didn’t want to cry again, you just felt tired and emotionally drained.

"I don’t want to go home…"

"Am I not your home?" Your chest tingled and then you looked up at him, his green eyes pierced into yours.

"….you can be my home?"

Loki chuckled "I’ve always been your home you silly boy, you just haven’t realized it yet"

"When did you become so sentimental?" You laughed softly, Loki looked down at you smirking then slide his hand to your waist and tickled you "Stop! Shit no!" You squirmed away trying to escape but it was far too late.

"A grown man defeated by a god what a story" He teased.

"Oh let’s just leave you idiot"

Loki helped you up, dusting you up and charming some shoes on your bare feet and warming you up.

The walk back to the tower was silent but you didn’t need words to know that everything will be alright, Loki was here anyways.

[chebyshevptera]

bodysnatcher anon here. I need a fic idea can you yap to me. I need inspiration just waffle about anything please

OH MY GODDD BODYSNATCHER ANON YOURE BACK……. I hope you know I’ve been crying over ur fic for the last few days.

but yes anyrhing for you... Let me yap about jay and his paranoia

Jay is reactive . he has a very short fuse , he’s finicky, he panics too easily, and he gets uncomfortable at the drop of a hat , and all of these things come together to make him one unstable ball of his own element . jay gets angry at things that seem small and insignificant (most notably, cole’s poor sense of timing for his otherwise silly comments) and he is so impulsive that it gets him into more trouble than it should

but normally , he’s nice , he’s helpful, which is why it’s so easy to see how much of a hothead he is, because he goes from 0 to 100 so quick that it’s scary . he’s violent when he’s angry , too, because he doesn’t know how to constrain his anger . it itches and that makes him angrier , and then he lashes out

he does this when nya is kidnapped , and cole makes a comment that sends him into hysterics, because his loved one has just been taken by the enemy, so how can cole crack jokes at a time like this? how can he mock her like that? . he loves cole to death, but he loves nya, too, and for him to try to make what Jay perceives to be a joke about her being taken , well, he wants cole to shut up , to realize he’s being awful , and then it kind of turns into ….. jay being awful because he’s being too impulsive and not understanding cole’s side of the story

and again, he does this when he’s just discovered that his crush has supposedly chosen his best friend over him, after seeing them hold hands , after essentially being told that he’s not good enough . At first he’s sad , and then cole makes a comment , and he’s no longer sad, he’s angry, because there cole goes AGAIN with his jokes, and this time they’re about him? does cole think that little of him? why is he being this way? what did jay do that led him to deserve this?

he’s reactive with nya during skybound, when she tries to turn him down, and he immediately snaps at her because he thinks she’s looking down on him . he’s reactive when everyone is making wishes because they’re putting everyone in so much danger , what is their problem, why isn’t anyone listening to him ? over and over there’s just little bits and pieces of the show where jay is impulsive and reactive and hotheaded , so much more than his friends ar e……….. …

okay. Now for the reason I say all of this . it’s because He usually thinks he’s in the right , because holllyyyy fuckkkkkkk is he PARANOID. jay has a fucked up thought process that automatically makes him think everyone is out to get him, that there must be something wrong with him for people to treat him as badly as he thinks they are , instead of trying to actually understand where they’re coming from

this is why he’s a liar too . Btw. jay is so anxious over how people perceive him that he thinks he’s constantly being judged, so he makes up things to make himself seem better, more interesting , so that people don’t hate him .

I think he’s improved over time . i think he’s a little calmer and he has better coping mechanisms and i think he’s now knows how to deal with that little itch in his head telling him that people are out to get him . But i also think that progress will not only be negated when he goes Rogue , but he’ll be even worse than he used to be, because genuinely, understandably, from his perspective, people ARE only out to get him . genuinely i think he’s going to be sleeping with a knife under his pillow or something Simply Because he is so scared

but yeah. He’s just a fucked up guy and he needs help so so. So badly

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 20: Haley's POV

A bright flash of light followed by a click wakes me with a start from my slumber I didn't even know I fell into. When I opened my eyes, I noticed I'm looking at the coffee table that's in our living room. I furrow my brows in confusion as to why I am on the couch.

Before even getting up, I can already feel my whole body aching, along with my head pounding in pain. Although, I feel a slow up and down motion coming from under my head. I sit up a little too fast because my head throbs in extreme pain.

"Owwww!" I whine while grabbing my head. When I look down at what I was laying on, it was not a sight I was expecting. I let out a gasp and cover my mouth in disbelief.

Danny is sprawled out on the couch under me. Arms flailed in either direction with one hanging off the edge and one draped over the arm of the couch behind her head. Her mouth is hung open, drool nearly escaping from the corner of her mouth. Her clothes are disheveled and wrinkled with the hem of her tank top rolled up, exposing her perfectly toned stomach.

What really gets me though, is her mouth, cheeks, and neck are absolutely smeared with pink lipstick. MY pink lipstick. Along with the lipstick on her collarbone, I notice a few purple blotches forming on her skin. Hickeys.

Jumping up from the way I was sitting and straddling Danny's waist on the couch, I took several steps back, still covering my mouth with my hand.

"Good thing you'll never forget this moment now!" Emily sings as she hands me my camera.

"You took a picture?!" I hiss back, trying to be quiet so as to not wake Danny. My head also hurts too much for loud noises right now anyway.

"Sure did. You're welcome," Emily laughs as she walks away.

Frantically, I start pacing back and forth along the hardwood floor. I don't know what to do about Danny.

Will she remember anything that happened? I think to myself. Part of me hopes she does because I don't remember anything at all. I want someone to inform me of whatever went on last night because the aftermath is quite suggestive.

I take another, guilty pleasure look at Danny sprawled out on the couch. Everything about her is so breathtaking that it's hard to pull my gaze away. To me, she has always seemed like a goddess. The feelings that started to form when she first moved to Pelican Town I knew were not jealousy. I knew I didn't want to be like her, or have her hairstyle, or anything like that. That feeling was one that yearned to be WITH her which is something I've never felt before.

When I first got to see her personality, it made my thoughts and feelings intensify. Somehow, she manages to be gorgeous, kind, hot, and respectful all at the same time. This girl single handedly made me question my entire sexuality.

Sure I have occasionally checked out another girl when I visit Zuzu City or have thought about kissing them, but I thought all girls did that. I thought it was normal. But, I also liked being with Alex and making out with random guys at the bar, or so I thought. All of my experiences with guys are just incomparable now that Danny has entered my life. There just seems to be a brighter spark when I'm around her, one I've never felt with a guy.

A small stir from the couch snaps me out of my thoughts. Panicked and without thinking, I darted into the bathroom and shut the door. I dramatically slide down the back of it and land, butt first, on the cold floor. I scrunch my knees up to my chest and start bawling hysterically into my knees.

"Why did my first time hooking up with a girl have to be when I'm drunk?" I sob, muffled by my knees, "Why did I have to forget everything that happened... and why did it have to be with Danny?" I begin to cry louder, unable to control the sobs.

A small knock beckons from the other side of the door. I inhale deeply, trying to stop the tears so I can answer the door. When I think I'm okay, I stand and turn the knob of the door.

"Are you okay?" Danny whispers, squinting from the bright, morning light.

For some reason, that absolutely broke me. I burst into a fit of tears once again and went to shut the door on her. She shoves her foot against the door to stop it from closing, catching me off guard. Since I was still trying to process what she did, she makes her move and slides into the bathroom with me. She shut the door behind her and went to lean on the bathroom sink which is directly in front of me.

Still blubbering in my tears, I turn my face away so she can't see the hot mess of a state I'm in.

"Why'd you try to shut the door on me, Haley?" Danny quietly asks me. I go to answer her, but just can't make the words form in my mouth. All that comes out are air hungry gasps.

Danny pats the ledge of the bathtub that's next to the sink, urging me to take a seat. With my arms folded across my chest, I obediently took a seat where she patted.

I try to calm down so I can explain everything to her, but every time I look at Danny's lipstick stained face, I begin to cry again.

Giving up on trying to speak, I walk over to Danny and grab her by the shoulders. I spin her around so she is face to face with the mirror above the sink. This is also the first time I have looked in the mirror since waking up as well.

The two of us stood there silently, staring at the reflection of whatever had gone on the night before. Not only did Danny have lipstick all over her, but I had it smeared all over my face as well. My hair is a rat's nest, and there are mascara stains running down my cheeks from all my crying.

I watch as Danny brings a hand up to her collarbone and brushes her fingers over the hickeys. I watch as a wave of sadness washes over her face.

"I don't remember... anything..." she chokes, voice breaking mid sentence ever so slightly. Our reflections lock eyes with one another, neither one of us turning to look at the other face to face.

Her saying that completely broke my heart, more than it already was. Neither of us will get to know what went on or how it even started in the first place.

"I'm sorry," I managed to get out. I break eye contact to look down at the floor in shame, tears still threatening to escape from my eyes.

"Oh no no no what are you sorry for?" Danny concerningly bends over and cups my cheeks in her hands. Using my finger, I motion a circle around her head and neck.

"Ah don't worry about it. Most of this can wash off. Speaking of, let's get you cleaned up as well." Danny turns the handle of the sink to get the water running, but I hesitate. Feeling my stomach start bubbling uncomfortably, I scurry to the toilet and drop to my knees. Danny immediately clues in and rushes over to pull back my tangled mess of hair.

The pain and uncomfortableness of my stomach causes me to start crying again. Danny had started rubbing cold water from the sink on the back of my neck, trying to help.

"Do you want some ginger ale? I can go grab you some-" Danny started to walk to the door but I grabbed her ankle and tugged her back, shaking my head. I didn't want to be alone right now.

She decided to join me by sitting on the ground, but was leaning against the side of the tub with her legs stretched in front of her. I was still balled up near the toilet.

"I never want to be that drunk again," I squeak quietly, but still loud enough for her to hear. My comment caused her to let out a chuckle. Her laugh is so contagious, that it got me laughing too.

"Are you too okay in there?" Emily yells through the door.

"Yes we are," The two of us respond in unison.

"My shift at the saloon starts soon. I just thought I'd let you guys know in case you are wondering where I am... unlikely... but just in case. See you later!" she yells through the door again. We hear her footsteps walk away from the door.

"Are you feeling good enough to get washed up now?" Danny questions me. I give her a nod in response.

She stands up, turns, and helps me get on my feet. She holds her hand out and I grasp it tightly, putting all my weight on her hand. She pulls me up and walks me to the sink.

She finds a washcloth hanging up on a towel rack and dampens in the water. She begins to wipe the mascara and lipstick stains from my face, making sure to get every last mark. She does a little nod of satisfaction when she seems to have finished.

I take the washcloth from her hand and start doing the same to her face. When all the pink lipstick smears have been washed away, the hickeys look even more prominent and visible. Hopefully Danny can figure out how to cover them up.

"I better go now and let you get in the shower. I just know you're dying to do so. I don't blame you, I'm going to go home and do the same thing," Danny says as she opens the bathroom door to leave. She pauses in the doorway for a second, seemingly deep in thought. She makes eye contact with me one last time, but then walks out of the bathroom.

I have no idea what is going to happen between the two of us after today. I almost don't even want to think about it. But I can't help feeling some sort of hope?