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lyn31 · 3 days ago

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Accident? 🐱😽

Summary:

When you grows cats ears and tails, how would you think your boyfriend will react?

Notes:

This is a prompt from @chryssikyu I thought it was very cute, it still are but uh I might've gone overboard? Oops? Well hopefully it's still enjoyable ahahaha Pairing: Zayne x Reader/MC

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It’s just like any other day. You’ve just finished your mission and returned home, standing in your kitchen, grabbing the leftover dinner Zayne made earlier. With food in hand, you hum to yourself as you walk toward the dining table, only to hear Zayne call your name. Then he appears at the door, holding a test tube.

“What is this?” he asks, his face as stoic as ever, but you can see a hint of concern. “Doesn’t look like something you should be bringing home, does it?”

"Ah." A closer look confirms it—you definitely shouldn’t have brought it home. “Where did you find it?” you ask, stretching your hand toward the tube.

Zayne doesn’t hand it over immediately. “In your jacket.” He tilts his head, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s nothing dangerous.”

At that, Zayne lifts an eyebrow.

“I mean, yeah, that shouldn’t have been in my pocket, but I have no idea how it got there.”

“Well, you do have a habit of pocketing anything in your hand.” You can hear the teasing tone in his voice.

You roll your eyes. “I do not!” But his teasing smile makes you pause. “Well… okay, sometimes. But not all the time! Either way, I should get that back to the lab. It’s supposed to help Hunter fight Wanderers, but it’s not quite a success yet.”

Zayne hums, waiting expectantly.

“I heard it’s nothing bad, though. The effect is reversible. The last guy who breathed in the fumes was fine after 24 hours.”

Zayne’s brow furrows. “24 hours? That’s a long effect. What exactly does it do?”

You shrug. “I didn’t hear that part.” You reach out again. “It’s better than most things their research usually—”

Zayne hesitates, his fingers tightening around the test tube before he finally exhales and hands it back to you.

“Alright. I’ll just put it in my pack and secure it properly.”

You take a step forward, but somehow, your foot catches, and— Crash. The glass shatters against the floor. Zayne reacts instantly, grabbing your arm and steadying you, his grip firm. But the damage is done. A faint wisp of blue smoke curls upward, and before you can even think to hold your breath, you inhale. A sharp tickle burns through your nose. Your eyes water. Then— Sneeze. Zayne cups your face, his hands warm and steady. “Are you okay?” You blink against the stinging sensation and rub your nose. “Ugh. All good,” you mutter between sneezes.

Zayne watches closely, scanning for any changes. When you sneeze, his hand steadies you before you even register the movement. “We’re going to the lab, or the hospital.” His voice is firm, but his touch remains gentle, he slowly leads you forward.

“Ah, no, no, I’m fine.” You stop sneezing now and really do feel… normal. “Like I said, it should be fine. Even if something happens, it’ll go away. We don’t need to go.”

Zayne’s brow furrows further. “It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

But of course, you just shake your head. “No, really, I’ll tell you if I feel anything, alright? Besides, I want to eat.” You give him your best puppy-dog eyes, pleading.

Zayne scans your face, then your whole body, searching for any sign of distress. After a long moment of silence, he finally sighs, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright. Tell me if anything—and I mean anything—feels different, okay? Eat your meal. I’ll clean up.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before turning to grab cleaning supplies.

With that settled, you return to the kitchen and start eating. After finishing, you wash your plate in the sink. You’re just about to look for Zayne when you feel an itch in your ears. You scratch them absentmindedly as you walk toward the living room. The more you touch them, the thicker and softer they feel beneath your fingers.

Zayne sits at his laptop, fingers tapping against the keys in steady rhythm. The soft glow of the screen casts shadows over his face. When he hears your footsteps, he barely glances up at first. “Do you still feel—” Then he really sees you. His fingers freeze mid-keystroke, his grip tightening around the edge of his laptop before he slowly leans back, his gaze locked on you. His mouth parts slightly, but no words come out, as if his brain is still catching up with what he’s seeing.. “What?” You frown, rubbing your ears again. They still feel itchy, weird. “Something on my face?” Zayne doesn’t answer immediately. He just stares. That’s never a good sign. You grab his phone from the coffee table, flipping it to the front camera as you sit next to him. The moment your reflection comes into view, you freeze.

“Oh shit—” You grimace. Slowly, you reach up, touching your ear, half-expecting them to disappear under your fingers. Your face hasn’t changed much, but your ears… they’re clearly different. They’ve turned into cat ears—white cat ears—starkly contrasting with your dark hair. You look at Zayne. He looks at you, he exhales slowly, measured. “…We’re going to the lab.”

Zayne starts to stand, but you grab his arm and pull him back down.

“No, wait! It’s fine. It’ll change back tomorrow!”

His frown deepens.

“Darling, listen.” His voice is soft as he gently touches your ears, making you shiver. “This is clearly not fine. We’re going back to the lab.”

“No, Zayne, really! I’ll just contact them, and you can ask them too, okay?” You really don’t want to get nagged about this. Handling it over the phone is a compromise. By tomorrow, when the effect wears off, hopefully the nagging will too.

You watch his expression shift—his jaw tightening, fingers tapping against his thigh as he debates whether to just carry you to the car anyway. But after a while, he exhales through his nose and sighs.

“Alright. Call away.”

So you call your colleague, report what happened, and let Zayne ask a million questions to make sure you’re really fine. After an hour, the matter is settled.

“See? All good, right?”

Zayne exhales softly, shaking his head. His face stays neutral, but you catch the subtle ease in his eyes—the quiet relief he won’t admit.

“All good, huh? Just don’t leave my sight, alright? We still don’t know for certain.” He kisses your lips—a quick, chaste kiss—before going back to his laptop, glancing at you briefly before returning to his work.

So, you grab the remote and turn on the TV. Truthfully, for the past hour, you’ve been feeling the same itch—not in your ears this time, but lower. And you have a pretty good idea of what’s happening.

And then you feel it. You flinch as an unfamiliar sensation prickles at the base of your spine. Your fingers twitch, reaching back—only to freeze the moment you feel it. Soft. Fluffy. Moving.

Your breath catches, and you shift in your seat, testing the strange new weight behind you. Zayne immediately notices, his eyes flicking to you before trailing downward. His gaze lingers for a moment, then slowly lifts back to your face.

“Well… they did say the tail would show up, right?” you say, voice uncertain as your fingers hesitantly brush over the unfamiliar appendage.

Zayne lets out a slow breath, his brow furrowing slightly. Without a word, he reaches out, resting one hand on your shoulder and the other over yours, stilling your movements. “Anything else feel weird? Any pain?” His grip is steady, grounding, his gaze locked onto yours as he searches for any sign of discomfort.

You shake your head.

After another moment of scrutiny, he gets up. When he returns, he has a blanket. Zayne wraps the blanket around you, his movements careful, deliberate. His fingers brush against your ears, barely lingering before he pulls away. “Anything uncomfortable?” His voice is softer now, but the concern is still there.

You shake your head again.

He kisses the top of your head and heads to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he’s back with a cup of chamomile tea, setting it gently on the table in front of you before returning to his laptop.

You curl up with the tea, taking a sip. It tastes stronger than usual… or maybe your senses are sharper now. You refocus on the TV.

For a while, the sound of the TV and Zayne’s typing fills the room. You scratch your ears gently. It feels nice. Really nice. You remember how good it felt when Zayne did it earlier. You glance at him, still working, but… shouldn’t he be paying more attention to you?

Yes. Yes, he definitely should.

Feeling restless, you inch closer, nuzzling against his side, seeking his comfort.

Zayne glances at you, ruffling your hair, kissing the top of your head. But just as you start to enjoy his touch, he returns to his laptop.

Pouting, you move closer, pressing against his side, but when he doesn't react, you move with more intent—climbing into his lap, settling against him. Zayne exhales lightly, amusement flickering in his eyes as his hands automatically move to steady you. "'And what exactly is this?'" Instead of answering, you nuzzle into his neck, arms draping around him. He hums, rubbing small circles into your back. But then his hands return to his keyboard, and you frown.

Not acceptable.

So you shift, straddling him, tilting his chin up before kissing him—first softly, then trailing down his face, his neck.

“Honey,” His voice is teasing, “I’ll finish this in a bit, then I’ll play with you, alright?”

You shake your head at this, stopping your licking and clinging onto him. You take one of his hands and guide it to your tail. You hear his chuckle, and then he strokes it slowly, heeding your request. The moment his fingers brush your tail, a sharp jolt sparks through you—almost like static electricity. It feels really nice, like an itch finally being scratched.

“Hmm, this does feel like a real cat tail—”

You cut off his words with a sudden purr. The sound vibrates in your throat before you even realize it, and your eyes widen. Wait… did I just…?

His fingers twitch against your tail before going completely still. You feel the way Zayne stiffens when your purring starts—a sharp inhale, his fingers flexing against your hips before gripping tighter. His throat bobs, and for a moment, he doesn’t move, as if he's trying to gather himself.

A slow, teasing sway of your hips earns you a low, involuntary groan, his breath hot against your ear. He doesn't move, but the tension in his body is unmistakable but other than that he still doesn’t move.

“Zayne?” You pull your face from his neck, trying to look at him when suddenly, you’re pushed down onto the couch. Zayne is on top of you, caging you in on both sides.

“This is dangerous, don’t you think?” His voice is much, much lower now, sending a shiver through you.

Now that you can finally see his face, his hazel eyes are more intense, filled with desire that he’s still trying to restrain. The tips of his ears are red. You simply tilt your head at his question, nuzzling against his hand, holding onto it.

You hear him sigh. He touches your cheek, and you automatically lean into him, seeking his touch. So, he tilts your face up, forcing you to look at him.

“Are you aware of what you’re doing?”

“Of course I do?” What a strange question, you think. You’re definitely aware of what you’re doing—it’s not like you’re drunk. So, you keep nuzzling against his touch, holding his gaze.

His gaze flickers, like he’s calculating his choices again. Then, he kisses your forehead gently. Studying your face once more, he asks,

“What do you want, darling?”

His tone is so soft, the same as his expression, making your stomach flip-flop. You take his right hand and place it on your ears.

“Touch me, please,” you say softly, already closing your eyes as his hand makes contact.

And so, he does.

He strokes your ears gently, and you feel blissful—so nice, so relaxing. It feels really good. You find yourself leaning into his touch. He kisses the area just below your right ear, his lips warm against your skin. His hand continues stroking your left ear as he trails slow kisses upward.

You gasp when his lips reach your ear. He licks it, nibbling slightly, and the sensation makes you purr again—something you can’t seem to stop. You squirm beneath him, heat pooling in your stomach.

He chuckles softly against your skin, his warm breath sending more shivers down your spine. His fingers continue caressing your ear, slow and deliberate, as if testing just how much you can take.

“You’re really something else,” he murmurs, his tone laced with amusement and something deeper, something that makes your stomach tighten.

His fingers trail down, brushing along your jaw before tilting your chin up—slow, deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. His hazel eyes bore into yours, dark and unreadable, as if weighing his next move. You hold his gaze, your breath unsteady, ears twitching under his touch. The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

“Zayne…” his name leaves your lips in a soft whisper, and that seems to be the last straw.

His breath ghosts over your skin before his lips press against your neck—slow and deliberate. The contrast is dizzying—the heat of his mouth, the teasing stroke of his fingers against your ear. You shiver beneath him, your breath hitching as his lips travel lower, marking a slow, possessive path. Then his fingers trace along your tail, and a warm pulse spreads through your spine, making your toes curl involuntarily. Your breath hitches, the sensation sparking deep in your core.

He notices.

Zayne's grip tightens, his palm gliding along the length of your tail with agonizing slowness. Your thighs instinctively press together, heat coiling low in your stomach. His voice, thick and rough, brushes against your skin. "That sensitive, huh?"

He strokes again, and this time a soft whimper escapes you, followed by another involuntary purr. His breath hitches, forehead pressing against your shoulder as he steadies himself before continuing. His teeth grazing the shell of your ear. His free hand presses against your lower back, keeping you exactly where he wants you, but he’s the one unraveling.

Your purring deepens, vibrating against his chest, and you feel his body tense even more. He lets out a ragged breath, his fingers twitching slightly. For a moment, he just lingers there, letting the sound wash over him.

“You keep making that sound,” his voice is rough, almost strained, “and I won’t be able to stop.”

You nuzzle against his touch again, silently asking for more, your tail curling slightly in his grip.

“Then don’t stop.”

He grunts, his fingers digging into your hips for half a second before he exhales sharply—then suddenly, you're flipped over. Your face is pressed against the couch now, your body pinned beneath him. His weight hovers over you, just enough to remind you how easily he could take control. His breath brushes against your ear as he leans in, voice thick with amusement and something darker.

“So, the kitty wants to play?” His voice is thick with amusement, but his eyes are dark with something else.

His words send a shiver down your spine, but before you can respond, his tongue flicks against your ear, slow and deliberate. His teeth graze the tip before he sucks lightly, making you gasp. One of his hands keeps him propped up so he doesn’t crush you, but the other? It slides back down to your tail, this time gripping, stroking with purpose.

A sharp jolt of pleasure runs through you, your body reacting before you can even process it. You arch against him, pressing your hips back, chasing more of that friction.

A strained chuckle escapes him, his breath hitching for a split second before he recovers. His grip on your tail tightens, his hips pressing forward, drawn to the heat of your movements. “Look at you…” His voice is lower now, rougher. His fingers flex, the pressure teasing, almost testing. “So sensitive here.”

His kisses trail down your neck, lingering, slow. He shifts, brushing your hair aside, exposing more skin. The moment his lips reach the back of your neck, he stills, his breath warm against you. Then, his mouth opens against your skin, tongue tracing slow circles before his teeth sink in just enough to make you squirm.

A deep sound rumbles in his chest at your reaction. He doesn’t stop, tracing a slow, burning path along your tattoo—licking, sucking, biting—as if branding himself into your skin. The sensation is overwhelming, a push and pull between heat and restraint, between teasing and claiming.

Your fingers find his free hand, gripping it tightly, nails digging into his skin as you writhe beneath him. You don’t even realize you’re pressing back against him again, your body moving on instinct. A low, guttural groan leaves his lips when he feels it—when he feels you.

“Impatient,” he murmurs, but his voice is different now—rough, strained, like he’s barely holding himself together. His hold on your tail shifts, fingers pressing in just enough to feel the way you twitch under his touch. He watches closely, taking in every reaction, his breath stalling for half a second before he strokes again, slower this time—almost like he’s testing both your limits and his own.

You catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye—his hazel eyes, dark and heavy-lidded. His breath uneven as he watches you, drinking in every movement, every sound you make. And yet, even now, he’s restraining himself.

“Stop teasing,” you whisper, breathless. “Touch me properly.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, but you can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten, the way his grip on you trembles just slightly. And then, his hand shifts, trailing down from your tail, following the curve of your body, stopping just short of where you need him most.

His lips brush against your ear as his voice drops lower. “You’re making this really hard for me.” His fingers press into your skin, his restraint slipping with every second. “You keep pushing me, and I don’t think you even realize it.”

He exhales sharply, his forehead dropping to your back. His fingers twitch against your waist before curling into a fist, knuckles pressing into the cushion beside you. Then, he shaking his head.

"I need a second," he mutters, his voice strained, like he’s barely keeping himself together.

He stills. The heat between you, thick and all-consuming, is nearly too much to bear. You shift beneath him, silently begging, but instead of giving in, he exhales, slow and controlled.

Then, his lips press against your shoulder—soft, lingering. His fingers, which had been tracing slow, burning lines along your skin, suddenly retreat.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” His voice is low, amused, and maddeningly composed.

You turn your head slightly, trying to catch his expression, but he only smile, his hands settling on your waist in a way that’s possessive yet withholding.

“Maybe I should make you wait a little longer,” he muses, his fingers brushing over your tail in a teasingly light touch that makes you shudder. “See how much you can take.”

Your breath hitches. “Zayne—”

He presses another kiss to your shoulder before shifting back slightly, as if deciding to draw this out just a little more.

His fingers trail lower, gliding down the curve of your back until they brush over the base of your tail. The touch is unhurried, intentional, and when you tense beneath him, he exhales softly—like he’s committing the reaction to memory.

"Still so sensitive," he murmurs, his voice quiet, almost thoughtful. His fingertips stroke over the spot again, this time with more intent, savoring the way your body shifts beneath his touch.

You shiver, pressing subtly into the sensation, but before you can move too much, his palm settles at the small of your back, keeping you in place. His other hand glides over your hip, his thumb smoothing slow circles into your skin.

"You wanted this," he says, his voice a deep hum, warm and steady. He leans forward slightly, his chest just barely brushing your back as his hand slides up your spine, fingertips tracing along the dip of it with aching slowness. "And now you're trembling for me."

His grip tightens—not rough, but firm, grounding you beneath him. Then his fingers drift lower, teasing along the inside of your thigh, never quite where you want them. The anticipation pulls tight between you, each second stretching unbearably.

"You always push," he says, his tone quieter now, almost indulgent as he watches you react to him. His fingers continue their slow path upward, lingering at the curve of your hip, never quite giving in. "But the moment I touch you like this…" His thumb skims higher, barely there. "You melt so easily."

His hand moves back to your tail, fingers tracing its base with the same aching slowness. The movement is tender, reverent even, as if he’s savoring every shift and sigh you give him in return. His other hand rests at your lower back, his touch warm, steadying.

He leans down, pressing the lightest kiss just below your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "You’re too easy to spoil like this," he murmurs, amusement lacing his words, though there's something softer beneath it.

Then, with one last slow caress over your tail, he chuckles, low and teasing. "I should keep you like this a little longer."

The words linger between you, a promise, a challenge—one that sends another shiver down your spine. But when he shifts forward again, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck this time, there's no mistaking the warmth in it, the quiet affection woven into his every touch.

Like he has no intention of letting you go just yet.

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ourdawnishotterthanourday · 3 days ago

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Rose Tinted — Boo Seungkwan

✧ Take off those rose colored glasses ✧

Plot: Picture this… you find out that your so-called best friend has been playing you all along.

🎥 Starring: fem!reader x best friend!Boo Seungkwan 🎥 Genre: big time angst 🎥 Word count: 0.9k+ 🎥 Warnings: swearing, asshole vernon, asshole kwannie (sorry y’all), brief mention of blood but not graphic 🎥 Notes: I am baaaack (hopefully for a while). I know I haven’t been posting for forever but I hope to see you all more often again ^^ 🎥 Shout out: thanks to my lovely bestie @nothoughtsjustfic for motivating me to write again 💜 love you Chee! Never change pls hehehe

♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡

Set The Scene Masterlist — Masterlist

“How much longer are you going to keep this up, dude? She’s been glued to your side since that dumb bet. Weren’t you gonna ditch her like forever ago?”

Time froze as you heard Vernon utter those words to your best friend… or so you thought.

“Shit, Vernon! Be quiet before she hears you!” Seungkwan hissed in return, which was followed by a dull sound and then a shriek from Vernon.

“Whatever. I just don’t get it. You don’t even like her. She could offer to buy me unlimited pizza and beers and I still wouldn’t be able to handle all that clinginess.”

“Fucking hell! Just get out and don’t come back until we leave. You’re going to fuck up everything,” Seungkwan snapped, his voice unlike anything you’d ever heard coming from his lips.

“Fine.” Vernon sighed dramatically. “But don’t come crying to me when it all comes to bite you in the ass.”

A second later, you heard the front door slam shut, the sound of which snapped you right back to the horrible reality you were now forced to face.

You’d just been shown a completely different side of your supposed best friend and you didn’t quite know whether to cry or scream. What you did know was that you couldn’t stay hidden behind the wall for forever, even though that did seem awfully tempting. You’d never been very confrontational but this matter couldn’t be left unspoken, not if you wanted to keep your sanity.

You needed to hear the truth from Seungkwan himself.

With your heart nearly pounding out your chest and a million thoughts running through your mind, you forced your legs to move in the direction of the living room where Seungkwan was awaiting your return.

His head immediately shot up when he noticed you approaching him, a smile that felt just a little too forced making its way on his face. It was almost as if you could see a sliver of disgust flash behind his eyes.

Had that always been there or were you just overanalyzing everything because of what Vernon said?

“There you are! Any longer and I would have gotten worried.” Seungkwan chuckled as he turned his head back towards the TV.

Right. The movie the two of you had been watching before that awful conversation. If only you could turn back time.

“Y/N?” Seungkwan asked with a raised brow when you hadn’t moved at all. “Aren’t you going to sit down? We can finish the last thirty minutes before we have to leave.”

“No.”

Your voice was barely audible but you knew that it had been loud enough judging by the way Seungkwan responded.

“No? You don’t want to watch any more? Well, we can put on something else if that’s what you wan-”

You were quick to interrupt him. “No. That’s not what I want.”

“Okay?” He got up from the couch, his brows furrowed in confusion. “You’re acting kinda strange, Y/N. What’s going on?”

Without realizing it, you’d been clenching your fists so hard this entire time that your nails had pierced through parts of your skin, drawing a little bit of blood which you could feel dripping down your fingers. But you honestly couldn’t give a fuck right now.

“Do you hate me?” you blurted out, completely catching the man in front of you off guard.

“W-what? Hate you? Why would you ask me that?” Seungkwan chuckled nervously, his hand awkwardly coming up to scratch behind his neck.

“Be honest with me, Seungkwan.” You looked him dead in the eyes, noticing the way his eyes grew wide at the fierceness behind your words.

As if suddenly coming back to himself, he shook his head furiously. “You’re being crazy, Y/N.”

You let out a loud snort. “Me? Crazy? Then are you saying Vernon was lying just now?”

At that revelation, Seungkwan’s mouth opened and closed a few times as if he was about to say something but backed out at the last second. There was no talking himself out of this. And you were not backing down until you’d heard everything, even if it was going to crush you.

“Yeah… I heard everything. About a supposed bet, about you pretending this entire time and wanting to ditch me. Does that ring a bell?”

“Y/N, l-listen,” the man pleaded as he took a step forward to reach for your arm.

“Tell me the fucking truth, Seungkwan!” you nearly screamed, surprising both yourself and him at the anger laced in your voice.

You could see the hesitation in his eyes at first, but it wasn’t long before that disgust you swore you’d seen before flashed behind his eyes once again.

“You really wanna know what I think of you? Fine!” He threw up his hands. “I don’t like you, I never have, not then and not now. I’m not your fucking best friend and I’m sick of pretending. You’re right. It started out as a stupid bet to see if I could befriend you, but with how fucking desperate you were, that wasn’t hard. And then you just wouldn’t fucking go away so I thought, I might as well use your clingy ass to my advantage. Because who in their right mind doesn’t like free meals and free rides? All I had to do was pretend.” He chuckled bitterly. “Happy now?”

You didn’t stick around to respond, already halfway through the door with tears streaming down your face by the time he finished his cruel rant. This wasn’t the sweet and caring Seungkwan you’d been sharing all your secrets and insecurities with. This was the real Seungkwan, a mean, heartless excuse of a human being who you didn’t recognize at all.

He’d broken your heart in a million little pieces and you didn’t know if you were ever going to recover from this.

So much for letting someone in.

So much for not wanting to be alone.

Boo Seungkwan, I hope it was worth it.

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#STS with CheeJi #svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #seventeen angst #svt angst #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan x reader #k-vanity #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fics #seventeen imagines #svt au #seventeen #seungkwan imagines #boo seungkwan #svt seungkwan #fic: rose tinted

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anemhoez · 3 days ago

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Love Struck…

Blade/AFAB!Reader

WARNINGS: language and unprotected sex

A/N: whyyy did i think of him as i was writing for Mydei….glad it happened though cause ive been meaning to write for him for a while now 🥴 *hiccup* please enjoy, thanks 😀

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

You gently removed the dirty bandages from his arms, doing your best to not agitate his skin any further. “Do you feel any kind of relief at all?” you asked, inspecting the deep wounds that seeped with mara. Blade scoffed, “Never.” His voice was calm, as if this was all too normal for him. And unfortunately, it was.

“Kafka can help once she gets back.” He said with a wince as you applied the cool herbal remedy. Hearing the woman’s name alone was enough to make you sigh audibly. Blade chucked, “You must be thrilled knowing she’s only a few days out.”

“Ecstatic.” You deadpanned as his hands reached out to you. You moved from his needy grasp, standing up from where you knelt before him to grab the fresh clean bandages. His intense crimson stare fixed on your hands swiftly rolling the white cloth up his forearms once you turned your attention back to him.

You finished without a word and stood up quickly, once again avoiding his hands that reached out to you. He was so used to thanking you with a kiss, that not receiving it this time made whatever he considered the heart in his chest to twinge with pain.

“The herbs I applied only help with the pain so, hopefully you don’t completely lose your mind before she gets back.” you explained pretending to be worried to no one, for Blade already knew that you kind of liked it when the mara took over. Sometimes.

You hurried to collect your items as he came up behind you, his arms wrapping around you from behind. “Thought you liked it when I got a little, crazy.” he spoke in his usual calm way, but he made his voice even deeper, the vocal fry sending a shiver up your body.

You watched in the mirror before you as his large hands moved up your body, cupping your breasts through your shirt. “Don’t tell me you’re still worried about Kafka?” His voice was gentle in your ear as he trailed his hand down your front, his thick fingers rubbing against your clothed core. You inhaled deeply and let out a small moan as he turned you to look at him with his free hand.

His gaze threatened to melt you. His inviting lips tempting you through your current hateful thought about her to kiss him passionately and forget about everything. “She’s gorgeous of course I’m-.” Your sentence came to an abrupt halt as he crashed his lips onto yours, the rhythm of his hand between your legs more intense and rough.

In all your years of intimacy with people, you had never encountered a lover like Blade. He was rough but gentle at the same time, and oh so tenaciously deliberate with every move. The man has even made you come just from his stare alone, he was that good.

“If i have done anything right in our time together, I think its been showing you, quite intimately might i add, about how much you mean to me.” He finally slipped his hand into your pants deftly. A deep moan emanated from his throat as he felt how wet you were, the moan soon swallowed by your kiss. You turned to face him, your teeth pulling at his bottom lip roughly as you pulled away. “I hate the way she calls you, Bladie.” you said with a cringing face. “With that annoying, grating voice of hers.” you spat and he only chuckled softly.

His fingers curved inside of you as he moved closer, your eyes rolling back as he pushed you to sit on the counter. “I’ll tell her to stop then, will that help?” his voice was so much softer suddenly, your eyes coming to look at his, despite the downright debauchery that was currently going on between your legs.

You put your arms around his neck, opening your legs for him to slot in comfortably. You whined against his lips as his thumb rubbed against your clit, “Okay, but there’s one other thing.” you sighed before kissing him hard.

He hummed as he pulled his hand from you, stuffing his slicked fingers into your mouth, “Why do I have a sneaking suspicion about what you’re about to say?”

Your heart sank as you sucked your slick off of him, your saliva making a mess on your chin. His free hand was busy undoing his pants, his erect cock finally free from its prison as he pulled it out.

He took his fingers out of your mouth and used their wetness to coat himself. You pulled your pants down, letting them pool at your feet as you watched him pump himself lazily. “I don’t see how you would, we’ve never even talked about our relationship seriously before.” you said as you turned your rear to him, waiting for his thick cock to enter you, but he just stood behind you without moving.

“That’s exactly how I know darling.” his voice sounding a bit too cold for your liking. After all, how could someone like him, merciless and evil, ever say the words to you? Was he even capable of that feeling? Did all the years of mara running through his veins make him a complete emotionless shell?

You were always too scared to ask him, not that he’d hurt you in any way, but that you might just send him into some kind of mara-spiral that he’d never get out of. You knew that he’d rather hurt himself than hurt you, and that’s exactly what scared you the most.

Blade’s hands took you by the waist, pushing up the long shirt you wore to expose your waiting backside to him. He squeezed on the flesh hard, pulling you closer to him. He hissed as his dick rested hotly against the middle of your ass and rolled his body against you.

You looked at him through the mirror, the smirk on his face spreading, giving you a hint as to how he would move next. He let his dick slip from your ass to your folds, warm and inviting. “Do you see that bitch in the mirror?” he growled as you looked at yourself, the name he gave you hitting your core and making you seep around him even more.

“Y-Yes.” you whispered as his tip prodded against your entrance. Blade smiled as he began pushing into you, your walls accepting him immediately, “They’re the only one I need.” He slammed into you hard, the loud smack that echoed in the bathroom making him laugh. He picked up his pace, the need between the two of you growing in seconds. The need for him to make you come undone taking over any horrible thoughts he had of himself in his mind as the mara constantly threatened to take over.

Your mouth opened wide, gasping for air as Blade’s thick cock filled you so perfectly, the sensations igniting every nerve in your body. He shoved his fingers into your mouth again, “What more do I need to say to you? Do you simply need to hear those three words?”

You weren’t even sure anymore, about anything. You only felt him and your pleasure in that moment, almost not caring about the feelings that grew to their limit over the past year. He growled in your ear, biting down on your neck as he sought his release. He bent over you completely, your face on the smooth porcelain of the counter as he thrusted into you over and over again roughly. Your thighs shook as you started baring down on him in pulses, begging him to bring you over the edge.

Blade groaned and pulled you up by your hair, making you face him as he spoke, his dick buried so deep inside of you that you felt it wrecking your guts. “If you must hear it at least once, then fine. I love you.”

“Fuck, Blade,” you huffed as his words threatened to make you crumble in his very arms. “I love you too!” you yelped as he pulled your arms behind your back, using them to buck into you harder and faster. Your orgasm washed over you like a wave crashing on the shore, your body limp and writhing under him as he continued. You cursed out loudly, spewing lewd phrases to him as he used you like a sloppy sleeve. “Mmh, another thing I love, making you go absolutely berserk on me.”

The man behind you fixed his gaze on the reflection of the two of you in the mirror, the tears falling from your eyes and the way you begged for more sent him into his own intense release.

His moan was like music to your ears as his dick released its load into you, his fingers quickly coming to rub at your clit desperately needing to make you come again while he was still inside. “Yes, mmh-fuuck!” you screamed out and you soon climaxed again. This time however, with how he was nestled in you and the stimulation to your bundle of nerves, you squirted viciously on his hand.

“Messy little bitch.” he sighed in your ear before kissing it and moving your face by your chin to kiss you roughly. “Shut the fuck up.” you said in response against his lips, feeling his hand slow down against you even though you didn’t want him to stop.

Just then his phone rang from its position on the counter and he groaned before kissing you again. “What?” he said as he answered, his dick slipping out of you unceremoniously. “Understood, Kafka.” he said as he turned to look at you with a smile. You just rolled your eyes and put your pants back on, finally taking your things and leaving the bathroom.

He quickly came up behind you once he finished his call and the two of you walked down the hall and to your shared common area with the rest of the team. Silverwolf turned to the two of you from her position on the couch as you entered, “What took the two of you so long? I’ve been waiting in the game lobby for-oh.” her last word sounding more like a sigh of annoyance than anything. “You could have just said you needed some time alone, I’ve got shit to do you know.”

Blade came up behind you and pulled you into a hug. “What are you-? We didn’t-? We were just-!” you tried to feign ignorance but the clever hacker before you just shook her head. “Save it, your hair’s all messed up and Blade’s got that look in his eyes.” she sighed and started the game without the two of you, quickly getting immersed and ignoring you for keeping her waiting.

“What look?” you asked as you turned to him, but he quickly closed his eyes. “I sincerely don’t know what she’s referring to.” He gave you a quick kiss and moved from you, walking towards the couch and not once looking back. “Kafka called, said her departure is delayed for another two days.” Blade’s voice indifferent as he spoke to his comrade. “Oh no! What ever will we do?” Silverwolf responded just as indifferent, but adding her own tones of sarcasm to her statement.

He turned to you, his dark red eyes void of any emotion as he waved you over. You came over and sat next to him, the two of you enjoying being comfortably silent while Silverwolf played her game loudly. You know you loved him and you believed he loved you too, truly. You decided on having to be ok with not hearing it as much as you would like as long as he showed it in other ways. But just then he pulled you closer, kissing you on the cheek before his attention turned back to the screen. “I love you.” And you practically melted against him, his words making your heart flutier to the point of bursting. “I love you too.”

A/N: i honestly don’t have words cause i wrote this and posted it in one day?? does that mean i like him like him?!?! 😳 send help…

#blade hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail blade #blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade smut #honkai star rail smut #sorry to kafka #easiest decision i ever made saying bye to her oops #his mara struck dick goes crazy im sure

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jellyvibes710 · 14 hours ago

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A year progress (or two, I’ve lost track)

I know I’m two months late since the new year but thank you all so much for reading my comics!

I have a few plans for the future and one of them is I’m going to rewrite “little baby blue” I never fully planned it out before I had jumped into it, the story had a lot of plot holes and it was hard to follow with how frequently it’d jump between parts. It’s not dead! After I finish the “parasite” storyline little baby blue will be set in motion again

The next part in the parasite story is planned to be animated with voice actors and sound effects, it’s a big project I am very excited for! Hopefully, if all goes well, there will be 2 fully voiced and animated parts for the whole series

Last project is still a secret, I’ve been working on it for about 2 years now(I took a short break because of turtles XD), it’s not a tmnt story but it’s an eddsworld story, I won’t bore you guys with those details though

The two newest drawings of Donnie and Leo are from a rough draft story I’ve been considering working on again, the twins are stuck in a loop that was caused after a battle with some bad guys goes bad, after Donnie was able to secure one of the bad guys he doesn’t realize that their battle had caused the building to start collapsing, Leo was able to portal himself and kick Dee out into safety but wasn’t able to get himself or the pinned criminal out in time and ultimately loses his life when the building caved in on him. The villains buddy uses an artifact (that they were stealing) in an attempt to save his buddies life but ultimately trapped themselves and the twins into a time loop, they eventually have to work with the criminals to fix this problem they’ve gotten into. This story has no happy ending and is VERY dark. There is only one way to stop the time loop and Donnie isn’t sure he can go through with it. Cheesy I know but I’m a sucker for a good time loop story, plus it was planned to be a very short comic

Just in case I do decide to pick that one back up I won’t put a lot of details or spoilers

Additional doodles under cut

Some screenshot redraws of Leo , I wanted to try out a few different color palettes and I really like how they look

My first time drawing big mama, I think I did good for only having one reference photo of her, though I learned that I can’t draw crop tops for the life of me 😆

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rise of the tmnt #rottmnt donnie #unpause rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #little baby blue au #abbeyofcynau #fan comic for her parasite AU #i need a coffee #rottmnt big mama

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another-whump-sideblog · 1 day ago

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Hey, your “Whumper with mind powers” bit? God, yes, please. Exactly. I feel that so deeply, and I know so many other people do too. I would throw real money at you to continue that story, I’m imagining carewhumper taking care of their new pet for the first time since whumpee didn’t have the spoons to take care of themselves and basic stuff like a shower and eating properly fell to the wayside.

Original post

Thank you, I'm so glad you liked it! Hopefully this is to your liking

Just as Whumper said, Whumpee wakes up feeling alert and well-rested, without the pain they've gotten so used to.

"How do you feel?" Whumper smiles warmly.

"I feel great-- thank you, thank you, what can I do to repay you?"

"Let's not worry about that just yet." Whumper undoes Whumpee's restraints. "You haven't had a proper meal in far too long."

Whumpee hops to their feet. They feel so good. They could do anything. Things they've wanted to do but not had the energy for pop into their mind-- they could audition for a play. They could clean out their bathroom drawers. They could join a club, learn a new language, anything!

Whumper sits them down at a table and comes back a few minutes later with food. "I made cucumber sandwiches."

Whumpee grimaces. Being polite doesn't occur to them-- they can be honest with Whumper. They need to be honest with Whumper, to tell them everything. "I don't like that."

"I know. But guess what? I can make you like them. I can make eating them trigger as much pleasure as eating ice cream. Do you want to see?"

They do, so they take a sandwich and begin eating it.

It's so good. It's the best thing they've ever eaten. "It works!"

Whumper laughs. "You don't need to sound so surprised. Try not to eat too fast, I don't want you to choke."

Whumpee's always been a fast eater, but with Whumper's order it becomes easy to take small bites at a time and savor their meal. When they finish, they feel pleasantly full.

Whumper pets their hair, and for a moment Whumpee wants to pull away, but that's quickly replaced by bliss.

"I wouldn't touch you if you didn't want it." Whumper murmurs. "But you do. You're just also ashamed of wanting it, so I turned that off. Isn't it nice, to enjoy physical contact without shame?"

"Yes, Whumper. It's so nice..."

Whumper pets Whumpee's hair for a bit longer before stopping. "Let's get you cleaned up. Follow me."

Whumper takes Whumpee to a bathroom and directs them to take a shower, which they gladly do. It's so easy, everything is so easy with Whumper.

When they're done with their shower, Whumper dresses them in a familiar uniform. They've seen Whumper's other victims helpers wearing these.

Whumper's hand is back in their hair, and Whumpee feels so good they hardly think. They're full and clean and loved.

"Now, let's talk about the repayment you mentioned earlier."

#ask #anon #hypnosis whump #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #creepy whumper #intimate whumper

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thatonesonicfanfictionwriter · 1 day ago

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I'm the anon who requested the tipsy reader I apologize for that! Instead could I request Shadow x Artist!Reader who's really into this painting for Shadow and he can't see it yet cause it's a surprise and it ends up being a painting of Maria at least from how Shadow described Maria to Reader? Once again I apologize for the other request, have a good day! ❤️

“A Special Gift for you!”

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Artist Reader

Requested: Yes (by an anon).

Description: Art was always something that made you happy. Hopefully you can share that happiness with your partner.

Notes: This one is cute! And no need to apologize, mistakes happen and I appreciate you coming back with another request! Hope you like this one, anon!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

(Not proof-read/beta-read.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

“What are you doing?” you hear a voice say from behind you.

You stop your painting, turning your head, seeing your confused partner, Shadow, standing next to you with his head tilted.

“Oh, hey Shadow!” you say with a smile. “I’m just painting.”

“What are you painting?” he asks.

“Cream’s pet chao, Cheese and Chocola,” you reply. “I thought it would be a good birthday gift for her.”

“Oh,” he mutters. “Thank you for reminding me that’s coming up.”

“No problem,” you say, returning to your painting.

But as you get to work, that gets you an idea.

Sure, Christmas is a couple months away still, but nothing wrong with a surprise gift beforehand!

But first…Time to finish painting these chao.

After doing so, you set the painting aside, putting a new canvas on your easel, Shadow being long-gone, off doing his own thing.

Good thing he left the room, actually.

Because this next painting was a surprise for him.

You get out your pencils and a drape to put over the canvas should Shadow arrive unexpectedly or should you have to leave the painting unattended.

You think to yourself for a moment how you want this to look.

Shadow likes simple things, but she was really special to him, so…Ugh, conflictions!

Okay, got it.

Simple background, but detailed painting.

That’ll make Shadow happy.

To be fair, anything positive regarding her would make him happy.

Hopefully not make him cry.

Yes, tears are healthy, but seeing him sad makes you sad.

…Okay, now you just sound like a bad person.

Nevermind that thought.

Regardless, you want this to look good.

You start with a rough sketch, the sound of your pencil being the only thing in the room.

After that, you polish up the sketch, again with your pencil. Looking good!

Now to decide on a background…

Ah, of course! Space and stars!

You get out your black, blue, and purple paint, along with the white and yellow for later.

But hearing the door open, you quickly put the drape over the canvas as Shadow walks in.

“Hey Shadow! What’s up?” you ask.

“Just wanted to let you know it’s getting late,” Shadow states. “Don’t stay up too long.”

“I won’t, I’ll be in bed shortly,” you tell him.

Shadow nods before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

You suppose you could start with the paint tomorrow, you are kind of tired after all.

You set all of your paint down near the easel, making sure the drape is on snugly before leaving the room.

A few days pass, and with extensive work, the painting is done. And a good few days before Christmas at that!

You sign your name at the bottom of the painting as you usually do, in white, making it look like a constellation.

Now to bring it to Shadow.

You pick up the painting and exit the room, with the back facing outwards so Shadow can’t see it.

“Shadow! I have a surprise for you!” you say in a cheery sing-song voice.

“A surprise?” Shadow asks. “But it’s not even Christmas yet.”

“It doesn’t have to be a holiday for you to get a gift, silly,” you say. “Now, close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

Shadow sighs but does so, and you place the painting to him with the painted side towards him.

“Okay, now open!” you say excitedly.

Shadow opens his eyes, and his pupils immediately dilate to a small size as he carefully puts a hand on the painting.

“You…you made this for me?” he asks quietly.

“I did,” you reply. “Now you can see her whenever you want.”

Tears start to fall from his eyes and you move to wipe them away as he sets the painting aside, hugging you.

“Thank you…” he mutters.

“No need to thank me,” you tell him. “I just wanted to see you happy.”

And he couldn’t be happier; he was glad to have a caring partner like you by his side.

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic fanfiction #sonic characters x reader #sonic character x reader #shadow the hedgehog #x reader #sonic oneshots #sonic oneshot #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #etc #insert tag here #oneshot #requested oneshot #requested

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winchestersisterimaginessss · 3 days ago

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request: can you write a story based off the the episode 10x3 where they are trying to cure Dean as a demon. Sam for the most part has kept their sister away from demon Dean but she wants to face him and he’s just evil and trying to break her. The whole story is her dealing with all of her emotions and trauma. Obviously in the episode he breaks out of his restraints and maybe he finds the sister in the bunker and tries to kill her and then you can figure out the rest. Just make it super intense and dramatic and detailed. I just think the whole storyline from 10x3 would be soooo good and I know you’d write it exactly how I imagined it with the perfect amount of angst, comfort and everything inbetween ugh I’m so excited if you can write this. thankkkk you!!!!!

A/N: OH IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE. I followed the storyline pretty much of the entire episode and it’s SUCH A LONG STORY. I just kept writing and writing, but I felt it was necessary. I wanted to capture every single emotion and detail to really get a feel on this story because it was such an intense episode already. I hope you love this!! ALSO requests are always open like please you can spam me with a bunch of requests and I’d be so happy. Some stories catch my mind a little more than others but if you have requested something already I am WORKING ON IT I PROMISE!! Just some get my mind/ideas flowing way more than others so they get finished first. If you put in a request already and I haven’t done it yet just do it again and I’ll try to speed it up on writing it. Other than that keep sending in requests!! I’ll write anything lol. Also pls lmk how you like this one it seriously took so much effort and I would absolutely love if I got some feedback!!!!!!

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader (and a little bit of cas hehe)

You sat in the bunker, paralyzed with fear. Dean was back, but he was still a demon. You hadn’t seen much of him because Sam refused to let you around him, but the little you had heard about him it was clear: he wasn’t your brother anymore. He was cold, his eyes pitch black, and there was no hint of remorse behind them. Your body trembled as you fought to hold back a sob. The door opened, and Sam stepped in—he looked utterly broken. He was carrying a cooler full of blood that would hopefully cure Dean of being a demon.

“Sammy,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. He froze at the sound of your voice, taking in the sight of your trembling form. The fear in your eyes hit him hard, and he longed to shield you from the nightmare their family had become. “Hey, bug, what’s going on?” He asked softly, stepping closer. That’s when you saw him fully—his face was exhausted, but it was his eyes, hollow and drained, that told the true story. His appearance was what absolutely crushed you and before you knew what you were doing, you blurted out an apology.

"I’m so sorry, Sam," your voice cracking with emotion. You fought to keep herself together, but the tears came anyway, spilling down your cheeks. "I’m sorry for everything. For this life... for the constant running, the fighting, the endless darkness. I’m sorry we never had a chance to just be—to be a normal family, to be happy." You shook your head, your breath catching as the weight of it all crashed over you. "And now... Dean..." your voice trembled, and you had to stop for a moment, swallowing hard to keep from breaking completely. "He’s not even Dean anymore. And I don’t know what to do, Sam. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to help."

The tears came faster now, and you didn’t try to stop them. You just let them fall, your chest heaving with each breath. You wiped your face with the sleeve of your jacket, your voice barely a whisper as you added, "I’m just so sorry."

Sam stood frozen for a moment, his heart aching as he watched you crumble. You were apologizing for things you had no control over. It hit him like a punch to the gut. Without thinking, he put down the cooler and moved toward you, his arms instinctively reaching out, pulling you close. He needed to comfort you, to make you feel safe again, even if everything around them felt like it was falling apart.

"Hey, hey," Sam whispered, his voice soft and steady, even though his own heart was breaking. He gently cupped your face in his hands, brushing away the tears that fell from your cheeks. "Don’t ever apologize for this life. You hear me?" His voice wavered, the depth of his love for you clear in every word. "You didn’t ask for any of this either. I know this life has been cruel to us. I know it’s taken so much from us, but none of this is your fault. None of it."

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace, holding you like you were the most important thing in his world—because you were. He buried his face in your hair for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but it was hard. Everything felt impossible. But he knew he couldn’t show you that. You needed him now more than ever, and he’d be damned if he let you feel alone in this.

"You don’t deserve this," he murmured, his voice full of quiet sorrow, but also a fierce protectiveness. "You never deserved any of this. We’re in this together, and I’m not going anywhere, okay? You don’t have to carry this by yourself."

He gently pulled back, his hands still on your shoulders, his eyes full of nothing but love and determination. "I don’t care how messed up this world is or how screwed up we are. We’re family, and that means we fight through this. Together. Always."

He wiped your tears softly, his voice full of reassurance. "You’re not alone, and you never will be. I’m here. I’ve got you, no matter what."

You pulled away slightly from Sam, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Your heart ached for him—he was carrying so much, and you knew he was trying to protect you from the worst of it. But the thought of him facing Dean alone, of him struggling with the monster his brother had become, made you feel like you were suffocating.

“I need to help you, Sam,” you said, your voice urgent but soft, almost pleading. You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure. "Please. I want to help you. I can’t just sit here while you go through this alone."

Sam's expression hardened, and his hands tightened around your shoulders, as if holding you back from something he knew was dangerous. His eyes were filled with desperation, but there was a clear resistance there—he didn’t want you anywhere near this. He knew the toll it was taking on him, and the thought of you getting involved, of you getting hurt, made his chest tighten with fear.

"Y/N, no," Sam said, his voice low and firm, though there was a raw edge to it. He shook his head slightly, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. "I can’t... I can’t let you do that. You’ve already been through enough, and I’m not dragging you into this. I won’t." His hands gripped your arms tighter, his voice cracking with emotion. "I can handle it. I’ll face Dean. But I can’t let you face him too. You’re not supposed to be in the middle of this. I’m supposed to keep you safe. I won’t risk it."

But you shook your head, the fire in your chest growing stronger. You couldn’t just stand by and watch him suffer alone—not when it was your brother too. The guilt would eat you alive if you didn’t help him now.

"I can’t let you do this alone, Sam," you said, your voice breaking with determination. "I need to face Dean. I need to help you. I know it’s dangerous, but I can’t just... I can’t live with myself if I don’t try. If I don’t help you now, if I don’t stand by your side, I’ll never forgive myself."

Sam’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, conflicted. His protective instinct screamed at him to push you away, to keep you safe. But he could see the resolve in your eyes, the way you were unwilling to back down, and it hit him harder than anything else. He wanted to protect you from this pain, but he couldn’t deny you your choice. You had always been there for him, and it hurt him to know you thought you had to do this.

"Y/N," Sam started, his voice rough, but there was no mistaking the concern in it. "I don’t want you to... I don’t want you to see Dean like this. You’ve already been through so much, and I—" He faltered for a second, taking a breath. "I’m not sure I can keep you safe, not with what he’s become."

You stepped closer to him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the love he had for you and the fear of losing you. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time.

"I have to help, Sam," you said, your voice shaking but resolute. "You don’t have to do this alone. I won’t let you." Your hand gripped his, steady and firm. "We’re in this together. Always."

Sam swallowed hard, his hand reaching up to hold yours, but his eyes stayed on you with that same conflicted pain. Slowly, he nodded, though it was clear how much it hurt him to agree.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But I’m not going to let you get hurt. I can’t lose you too." He pulled you into another tight embrace, holding you as though he never wanted to let you go, as though you were the one thing still keeping him from falling apart completely. "I’ve got you. And I’ll make sure we both make it through this." You nodded into his chest, but wanted to make sure that he knew you were also there for him. You pulled away from him and walked towards the cooler of blood he had put down.

“Well, we better get started,” you said, trying to sound more certain than you felt as you picked up the cooler. But before you could even take a step, Sam’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm with gentle but unyielding force.

You froze, looking up at him, and the moment you met his eyes, you saw the storm behind them. His jaw was tight, and there was something darker flickering in his gaze, something full of fear—fear for you.

"Wait," Sam said, his voice thick with something you couldn’t place. His grip on your arm didn’t hurt, but it held you still, like he was trying to anchor you in place, to make sure you understood what you were about to face. "Listen to me, okay? You have to be ready for what you’re about to see."

You gulped, but tried to be confident in the situation you found yourself in. "Sam, I’ll be fine."

He shook his head, his hand still on your arm, his thumb brushing over your skin as if trying to calm you. "No, you won’t. You think you know what you're walking into, but you have no idea." His voice lowered, a layer of tenderness creeping in. "This isn't Dean you're going to see in there. He’s a demon, there’s no one possessing him it’s just who he is."

Your stomach dropped, but you held his gaze. “I know Sam." You muttered softly, hearing him say it out loud made you feel nauseous.

Sam’s eyes softened, but the worry never left. He stepped closer to you, his body looming just slightly over yours as if shielding you from something, though you knew he couldn’t protect you from the truth that was waiting for you behind that door. "I know you do," he whispered, his voice rough. "But you need to hear me, okay? It’s different and I’m trying to prepare you in every way possible. He’s going to make you feel things you can’t control. He’s going to manipulate you. He will say things that will make you question everything, make you doubt yourself. He will try to break you."

You frowned, but Sam wasn’t done. He let go of your arm, his hands moving to your shoulders, his touch firm but careful, as if he was afraid even the smallest jolt would shatter you. "He’s good at that. He knows exactly how to twist your feelings—how to twist your memories. He knows how much you love him, and he will use that against you. He will make you feel like you're losing everything. And that—" Sam’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke, but he forced himself to keep going. "That will be the hardest part."

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words pressing down on you. "I won’t give up on him, Sam. I know what Dean is. I know what he means to me."

Sam nodded slowly, his forehead furrowing in quiet desperation. "I know you won’t," he murmured, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened with something close to admiration. "But he IS a demon now... and he WILL make you question everything. You’ve never seen Dean like this. You’ve never seen him like this before."

He let out a sharp breath, like he was weighing how much to say. "It’s not just about seeing him as a demon. It’s about feeling what he will do to you. He is going to make you think he’s gone. That you’ll never get him back. And it’s going to hurt—so much worse than you think." His eyes were dark now, full of an understanding you couldn’t ignore. "You need to prepare yourself. Mentally, emotionally... you need to brace for it. Because when you see him... you won’t recognize him at all. And that’s going to hurt the most."

You felt the weight of his words crash into you. Sam wasn’t trying to scare you—he was trying to protect you, to prepare you. And though a part of you wanted to shake off his worry, to push past it and rush forward to face Dean, you couldn’t. You couldn’t ignore how much he cared.

"I can handle it," you whispered, but even to your own ears, the words sounded fragile.

Sam’s face softened, but the sadness in his eyes deepened and for a long moment, Sam didn’t speak. He just looked at you, his expression unreadable, torn between wanting to protect you and knowing you needed to do this.

"Just promise me one thing," he said, his voice tight. "When you see him—when you look at him—don’t forget who he was. Don't let him make you forget the older brother you’ve always known." He paused, his eyes searching yours, desperately trying to convey every ounce of his care. "Promise me, please, that you won’t let it break you."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you nodded slowly, determined despite the fear twisting in your chest. "I promise, Sam. I won’t forget him. I won’t give up on him."

Sam let out a shaky breath, the weight of his relief almost visible. He squeezed your hand, then took a step back, his eyes still locked onto yours. "Okay," he whispered, his voice full of quiet, helplessness. "If you need to walk away... you do that. You turn away and don’t look back. Not for a second. Don’t give him that satisfaction, okay?"

"Okay, I wont," you said, your voice steady now, even if your heart was pounding through your body. "I’ll come find you if you walk out. You’re not in this alone." Sam reassured, the concern never leaving his face. You nodded and with one last glance, he stepped aside, letting you walk toward the door. You reached for the handle, feeling the cold metal beneath your fingers as Sam’s steady presence lingered behind you.

And with that, you stepped forward, ready—or as ready as you could be—to face your brother who was now a demon.

As soon as you stepped into the room, your eyes locked onto him, and the air seemed to freeze. The coldness that radiated from him was palpable, like a dark aura pressing down on you. Though his eyes weren’t black, there was something in them—something sharp, dangerous—that sent a chill straight through you. It was the unmistakable presence of evil lurking beneath the surface, twisting everything that had once been Dean. For a moment, you froze, instinctively halting in your tracks as the weight of the transformation hit you full force. You wanted to step back, wanted to run, but before you could think about moving, you felt Sam’s hand gently settle on your back, grounding you. His touch was a steady reminder that you weren’t alone, even as the room felt like it was closing in. You walked closer to Dean and watched as the corner of Dean’s mouth curled into a twisted smirk. The room seemed to grow colder as he took a slow, deliberate step toward you. His eyes—those familiar eyes—were colder than you remembered, and the way he looked at you felt wrong. Like you were nothing more than a toy to him. “Well, look at you. My baby sister,” he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You think you can save me, don’t you? But here I am. And there you are just standing there, scared shitless.”

As Dean's words sank in, the weight of his twisted gaze making your heart pound in your chest, Sam’s hand on your back tightened slightly, as though he could feel the struggle inside you. Without a second thought, he stepped in front of you, positioning himself between you and Dean, blocking your view. His voice cut through the thick, suffocating air, firm but edged with raw emotion. "Dean, stop," Sam commanded, his words heavy with pain.

But then, something inside you—something deeper, stronger—refused to let him win. You couldn't, not without a fight. You stepped around Sam. "You’re still in there, Dean," you forced yourself to say, despite the tremor in your voice. "I know you are. I won’t let you do this." Dean's grin only widened. "You’re lying to yourself, sweetheart. There’s nothing left of me but this." His voice dropped, almost a growl now, "And this—this is what’s going to destroy you."

Your resolve hardened, and despite the absolute terror gnawing at you, you stood your ground. "You won’t destroy me Dean. Not now. Not ever." You replied, your voice much firmer now.

At the sound of the cooler snapping open, you turned just in time to see Sam pulling out the vials of blood, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken determination. His hands were steady, but you could see the weight of what he was doing pressing down on him.

"You’re gonna come back, Dean," Sam said, his voice tight with emotion, but resolute. "We’re not letting you go."

He walked towards you, the cooler of blood in his hands. Dean eyes zeroing in on it like a predator. "Really?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mock amusement as Sam set the cooler down on the table with a thud.

Sam sighed, trying to mask the frustration but failing. "For what it's worth, I got your blood type," he said, offering a sarcastic half-smile, before clearing his throat and opening the cooler.

Dean’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a twisted grin. "Sam," he said, his tone low and dark, "I know you think you're gonna try and fix me, but did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to be fixed?" His gaze shifting between you and Sam. "Just let me go. Let me live my life. I won’t bother you." Dean paused, his eyes locking onto you, and his grin stretched wider. "And I pinky promise not to go after our sweet baby sis first."

Your breath caught in your throat. The fear coursed through you like ice, and your hands instinctively gripped the edge of the table. No, don’t let him see it. Don’t show him how much that scares you. But it was impossible to hide. You could feel your heart pounding, your body frozen in place as Dean's words twisted the knife further.

Sam noticed. His jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes on you, locking gazes for a brief moment, silently urging you to stay calm, to stay strong. You nodded, trying to steady your shaking breath, but it felt impossible. You could see Sam’s anger flickering behind his frustration, but he kept his attention on you, silently grounding you, reminding you that you weren’t alone in this. Sam turned back around to take his attention off of you. “Well that didn’t sound promising.”

“What do you care?” Dean asked, his gaze flicking between you and Sam, his voice dripping with mockery.

Sam’s response was sharp, almost a growl. “What do I care?” He let out a huff and rolled his eyes, disbelief dripping from his voice as he looked at Dean. He was trying to stay in control, trying not to let Dean get to him. His eyes flicked back to you, checking on you again, and in that moment, you felt the weight of his silent support. You had to hold it together—for Sam, for Dean, for everyone.

“You’re not going anywhere, Dean. Not until you’re cured and you will be cured.” You said with so much power behind your words.

Sam stepped forward, starting the ritual, but Dean’s voice cut through the tension once more, this time darker, more dangerous.

“You think I’ll sit here like Crowley and get all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, screw that. I don’t want this!”

Sam rolled his eyes again, frustration now boiling over. “Yeah, I think we pretty much figured that out.” His words were sharp. Dean’s gaze moved back to you. “You don’t even know if this is gonna work, do you? You know I’ve got a hell of a lot more running in me than just demon juice, sweetheart.”

Sam kept his focus on the ritual, his jaw set.

“Mark of Cain, got it,” You muttered, your voice barely more than a whisper, but there was a finality to it.

"That's right," Dean growled, his eyes burning with defiance. You glanced at Sam and saw that the syringes were ready. The tension in the air thickened. You looked back at Dean, trying to mask your fear with a heavy sigh.

"Buckle up," you said, your voice steady despite the nerves crawling under your skin.

"Baby sis, you know I hate shots," Dean muttered, his tone dripping with disdain.

You nodded, your grip tightening around the holy water bottle in your hand. "I hate demons."

As Sam took his final step toward Dean, the air seemed to crackle with the energy of the impending confrontation. Without warning, Dean’s eyes flashed black, and he lunged at Sam with a growl, desperate to stop the ritual.

You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed the holy water and splashed it right into his face. Dean recoiled with a howl of pain, but it was enough to give Sam the opening he needed. With swift precision, Sam drove the needle into Dean’s arm.

Dean snarled, his body convulsing with rage and discomfort. Sam was unfazed and spoke with a steady determination. “Look, we’ve got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make it a whole lot easier on yourself.” Sam’s voice was steady, but the uncertainty flickered in his eyes. Before Dean could respond, he started grunting aggressively, jerking violently against the restraints.

You glanced at Sam, seeing the look of hesitation flicker across his face, but before you could say anything, he grabbed another syringe and stabbed it into Dean’s arm. Dean writhed in pain, his eyes glaring up at Sam with unrestrained fury.

“For all you know, you could be killing me,” Dean breathed heavily, the words laced with anger.

Sam turned abruptly, slamming something down onto the table in frustration. “Or you’re just messing with me. Either way, the lore doesn’t say anything about exceptions to the cure.” His voice was firm, but the confidence never quite reached his face.

Dean chuckled darkly. “The lore,” he scoffed. “Hunters, men of letters. What a load of crap it all is.”

Sam squinted his eyes, looking him up and down, but kept quiet. “Oh, you got nothing?” He glanced at Sam, then shifted his attention to you. “What about you, sweetheart?”

You gulped, the fear creeping up on you, but you forced the words out. “This isn’t the real you even talking.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Oh, it’s the real me, all right.” His voice dropped, becoming colder, darker. “The new real me. The me that sees things for what they really are.”

The air around him seemed to pulse with something dark, something raw. His eyes locked onto you, and you felt a cold chill crawl down your spine.

“And I can see what you really are. You’re absolutely terrified,” he continued, his voice dripping with venom. “You thought I’d be broken—but I’m not. This is me now. And you? You’re just another casualty. You’re going to burn, slowly and painfully—just like our mommy you never got to know.”

Your eyes widened in absolute shock at the threat and the mention of your mother, shocked he could even think of such a thing. His gaze flickered over you, studying your reaction with a twisted satisfaction. "I could make you beg for death, you know. You think I’m still Dean in here, but he’s long gone. And you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize that."

Dean’s laugh was low, a sound that sent a jolt of dread through your body. “You can’t save me. And you can’t save yourself, either. I’ll make sure of that. But hey, maybe I’ll keep you alive for a while, let you watch it all fall apart. Maybe make you beg for death? Won’t that be fun?”

The venom in his words stung like poison, and it took every ounce of strength not to crumble in front of him. He could see it—the fear was written all over your face, and he was savoring it. He wanted to break you, and deep down, you knew he was capable of it.

Your breath was shallow, and panic bubbled up in your chest, threatening to overflow. The room felt suffocating. Your world began to blur, and you could feel your knees shaking beneath you. “I’ll make you scream! I’ll make you beg for death and watch as you choke on your own blood!” He screamed at you who was frozen in fear. Sam, enraged, stormed toward Dean. His eyes were filled with a fury that only came from seeing someone he loved in pain. Without hesitation, he jabbed the next syringe into Dean’s neck.

Dean screamed, a sound so raw and guttural that it made you jump, your entire body trembling with fear. It felt like the world around you was falling apart.

Sam threw the syringe on the table, turning away from Dean. The tension in the room was unbearable, the air thick with dread. Dean’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and mocking.

“Let me ask you this. If this doesn’t work—you both know what you got to do to me, right?” His voice was cold, menacing. “You got the stomach for that, Sam?! Because I know Y/N doesn’t!”

Your breath caught in your throat, a wave of nausea rising in your chest. His words felt like a punch, each one more suffocating than the last. You couldn’t take it anymore. Your knees buckled as you rushed out of the room, your mind spinning, your heart pounding. You gasped for air, your chest tight, and the world around you felt like it was blurring together. The threats, the fear, the helplessness—it was all too much. You couldn’t bear to hear any more. You couldn’t bear to be here.

The weakness weighed too heavy on you. The fear was too real. You stumbled down the hall, desperate for air, desperate for a moment where you didn’t feel like you were drowning. You were spiraling, every breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as your body shook uncontrollably. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, the walls closing in around you. Your hands scrambled for stability from the walls, but they felt foreign, unreal, slipping away from you as if nothing could anchor you. Your heart pounded so violently that it drowned out everything else. The world was blurring, and you couldn’t stop it. You screamed in panic, the noise getting strangled in your throat, swallowed by the terror that was overtaking you. You were shaking so hard, your body threatening to collapse under the weight of the fear. Your breath was ragged, each inhale burning, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs. Your legs buckled beneath you, but you didn’t fall. You clung to the walls, nails digging into the surface as if they could keep you from falling apart. Tears streamed down your face, and you didn’t know how to stop them.

Then, suddenly, Sam was there, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you against him. His presence was grounding, but it didn’t stop the panic raging inside you. You trembled against him, clinging to his shirt, your fists clutching onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from floating away into the terror.

“Shh, I’m here. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe,” Sam’s voice was soft but firm, filled with that quiet steadiness you knew and trusted. But it felt so distant through the haze of panic that surrounded you.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. The fear suffocated you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t catch your breath. “I can’t—Sam, I can’t—” You gasped, clutching harder, the terror building, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

Sam held you tighter, his hands gently guiding your shaky arms around him as he spoke again, more urgently this time. “Breathe, okay? I need you to breathe with me. In through your nose, slow. You’re okay. I’m right here.” His words were calm, but his voice betrayed how upset he was, how desperately he was trying to keep you from falling into the abyss of panic.

But you couldn’t. The fear was overwhelming, and every breath felt like it was ripping you apart. “I can’t,” you sobbed, your chest heaving. “I can’t breathe, Sam. I can’t...” You were sobbing so hard now, shaking violently, your body convulsing in his arms. “I can’t. He’s going to kill us... Sam, he said it himself. He said it—he’s going to—”

Sam’s eyes widened in horror as your words hit him like a punch. His grip tightened on you, his hands holding your face gently, forcing you to look at him. “No, no, no. Look at me. Look at me.” His voice cracked with emotion, raw and full of pain as he tried to steady you. “He’s not going to touch you. I swear to you. I won’t let him hurt you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The weight of your fear crashed down on you, but you could barely hear him through the fog of panic. “He said it... he said he was going to kill us... I can’t— Oh my God! He’s going to kill me... I can’t—I can’t—”

“No,” Sam interrupted, his voice low but filled with an undeniable certainty. He gripped your shoulders, his thumbs gently brushing the tear-streaked skin of your face. “He’s not going to hurt you. You hear me? And you’re not alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re not going to die.”

You shook your head, but the words didn’t make sense. The terror was louder than anything else, drowning out everything he was saying. But Sam wasn’t giving up. His hands were on you, steadying you, grounding you. His voice was insistent, unwavering. “Breathe with me, okay? In through your nose, slow. You’re okay. You’re safe. You can do this. You’re strong enough to do this. In through your nose... slow... just like that. I’m right here.”

You tried, you really did. But the air still felt thick, like you couldn’t get enough in. You gasped, shaking so violently you thought you might break.

Sam didn’t let go. He cupped your cheeks, his breath steady and warm against your skin. “I’m right here with you. You can breathe. You can breathe. I promise you’re going to be okay.”

His voice, so calm, so grounded, started to break through the haze of panic just a little. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and strong. Your hands loosened their grip on his shirt, though you still clung to him, desperate for anything to keep you from falling apart.

Slowly, shakily, you tried to breathe. It wasn’t perfect, but the tremors in your chest started to ease just a fraction.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, barely able to get the words out through the rawness in your throat. "I couldn’t handle it, Sammy. I thought I could… I really did. But he—" You cut yourself off with another sob, pressing your face into his chest, your fingers still clutching his shirt as though it were the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

Sam didn’t say anything for a moment, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. He didn’t try to pull away or tell you to stop, just held you through the storm. His hand stroked your hair gently, his fingers brushing your skin with an almost tender urgency, as though he couldn’t bear to see you so broken.

"He scared me," you whispered again, voice broken, barely audible as you clung to him, feeling like a piece of you was slipping away with each word. “I couldn’t stop the fear... I thought I could keep it together, but I... I couldn’t. I’m so sorry." Your voice cracked on the last part, the weight of it pressing down on you like a thousand tons.

Sam pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression full of concern and something deeper, something that wasn’t just about fear, but understanding. "Don’t apologize," he said softly, his voice so gentle yet filled with an unmistakable strength. "You don’t have to be sorry. What he said... what he did... It should have scared you. It was pure evil."

You shook your head, still unable to stop the tears. "I should’ve been stronger. I—I thought I could handle it. I thought I could... but I wasn’t ready, Sam. I wasn’t ready for it. I—"

Sam cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze, his eyes soft but firm. "Hey, listen to me," he whispered, his voice low but filled with an unwavering confidence. "You are strong. You’re stronger than you think. You don’t have to apologize. We’re going to get through this, I promise."

His voice held a certainty that slowly, almost imperceptibly, started to sink into your bones.

You closed your eyes, leaning into him again, feeling a sense of relief you hadn’t realized you were missing. He held you for a moment longer, his hands gently brushing through your hair, offering silent comfort. When you finally pulled away, his eyes softened, filled with concern, but there was a quiet determination there too. "Listen, I think you need a little time. Clear your head. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. If you need to get away from this, it’s okay." You blinked up at him, trying to process his words, still shaken but feeling just a little steadier than before. Sam reached for your hands, squeezing them gently. "I’ll be here, with Dean. If you feel ready to come back, you’ll know where to find us." You nodded slowly, taking in a shaky breath as you turned away, your feet carrying you toward the hallway. But as you walked, your steps faltered when you reached Dean’s door. The place that once felt like a refuge, where you and Dean would laugh, talk, and find solace in each other’s company. Now, it felt cold, distant, like something you couldn’t touch. But despite the overwhelming fear still gripping your chest, you needed to be there. You needed a piece of him, something to hold onto, even if it was just the remnants of the past.

With shaky hands, you pushed the door open, the familiar scent of Dean’s cologne filling the air. You didn’t bother to turn on the light. The dim glow from the hallway illuminated the room.

You walked in slowly, your legs weak beneath you as if the weight of everything was too much to carry. Your eyes glanced around at the cluttered room, the remnants of his life still scattered about: a jacket thrown over a chair, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the nightstand, a few books stacked haphazardly on the dresser. It all felt so wrong.

But you couldn’t stop. You needed this.

Without a word, you collapsed onto the bed, a cry escaping from your chest before you even realized it. The sound was raw, desperate, like a broken thing struggling to survive. You buried your face in the sheets, clinging to them as if they could hold you together. But the weight of it was too much.

The tears came once again—hard and unrelenting, flooding your face, soaking the bed beneath you. You couldn’t stop. You just couldn’t. The grief tore through you like a storm, leaving you empty and hollow. Every sob was a reminder that the man you loved was gone. Every gasp for air felt like it was being ripped from your lungs, suffocated by the weight of what had happened.

Dean wasn’t here anymore. Dean was gone, and all that was left was this twisted version, this monster wearing his face, mocking you. The pain was too much to bear. Your body shook violently as the sobs racked through you, each cry coming out like a wounded animal, a desperate plea to make it stop.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. How could everything go so wrong so quickly? How could someone you trusted with your whole heart become someone you were terrified of?

You curled up tighter on the bed, pressing your face deeper into the pillow, as if you could disappear into it, as if you could escape the crushing pain that consumed you.

You felt your body tremble with exhaustion, but you didn’t care. You didn’t know how long you lay there, your body wracked with sobs, lost in a fog of despair. Time had no meaning anymore. There was nothing but the endless ache, the never-ending stream of tears.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook you and you fell into deep nothingness.

Hours later, Sam walked through the door, his footsteps heavy, weighed down by the crushing reality of everything that had happened. He didn’t expect to find you here. But when he saw you, curled up on Dean’s bed, he stopped in his tracks.

The sight of you, so small and vulnerable sent a deep ache through him. It was as if you were seeking refuge in the last place where you felt safe, but now that place was empty—Dean was gone.

Sam’s breath hitched as he slowly walked toward you, trying to make himself as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb the fragile silence. The sight of you—so broken, so lost—was almost too much for him to bear.

He stood there for a long moment, watching you, but he didn’t want to disturb you. He knew how raw you were, and he didn’t want to make it worse.

Instead, he quietly moved to Dean’s dresser, pulling open the drawers, his eyes landing on old photos. There were pictures of the three of them—of Dean, Sam, and you—smiling, laughing, being a family. The images were so painfully full of life, so full of warmth, and now they felt like a cruel reminder of everything they had lost. Sam swallowed hard, his heart aching in his chest as he sat down on the edge of the bed, holding the photos in his hands, trying to cling to the reminder of who Dean really was.

As he adjusted his position, his knee brushed against you, and your eyes shot open. You jerked awake, panic immediately flooding your system. Your breathing hitched as you looked around, disoriented, your wild eyes landing on Sam.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s me,” Sam said gently, his voice calm and soothing as he saw the fear in your eyes. He reached out, his hand hovering near your leg. “It’s Sam. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

For a moment, you couldn’t process what was happening, where you were. Your heart racing with fear, but then you realized it was Sam.

"Sammy?" You whispered hoarsely, your voice cracking with the remnants of your tears. The moment you spoke, Sam’s expression softened, and his hand moved instinctively, rubbing your knee in a gentle motion.

"Yeah, I’m here," he replied softly, his voice full of that familiar warmth, but there was an undeniable pain beneath it. His thumb traced small circles on your knee, the touch meant to comfort, but you could feel his heart breaking, too.

You blinked, still trying to piece together what was happening, and finally asked, “What’s going on?” He slowly extended the photos toward you. You took them from him, your hands trembling as you looked down at the first picture. It was of the three of you—laughing around a campfire, Dean’s arm around you, Sam’s goofy grin plastered on his face. You ran your fingers over the edges of the photo, the memory of that day so vivid in your mind. “I remember this,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “We ended up by that campfire and it was perfect. I remember feeling so... free.”

Sam smiled faintly, his own gaze distant. “Yeah. We were just... being us. No monsters, no threats, no worry. Just us.”

“Just us,” you repeated, almost in disbelief, as if the simplicity of it was too much to hold onto.

Sam gave a soft chuckle, the memory clearly bringing him comfort, but the sadness in his eyes remained. “You kept teasing Dean because his marshmallows were burnt. You’d pretend to be all disgusted, but we both knew it was because you wanted his.”

A small, bitter laugh slipped from your lips, despite the overwhelming pain. You had forgotten about that. “You know me too well,” you murmured. “I always acted like I didn’t want anything to do with those burnt marshmallows, but I couldn’t resist them. Dean always made them with the perfect crisp.”

“You loved it,” Sam teased softly, a slight twinkle in his eye, though it didn’t quite reach the depth of his sadness.

You both fell into a moment of silence, the memories hanging between you like a fragile thread, so easily snapped by the weight of everything that had changed. Sam flipped through another photo, gently lifting another picture from the stack.

It was a candid shot, taken on a long drive. You were sleeping in the backseat of the Impala, curled up in the corner, your head resting against the window. Your hair was tousled, and you looked so peaceful, a soft expression on your face that spoke of all the exhaustion you’d been carrying.

Sam’s lips curled into a sad smile as he looked down at the picture. “You used to fall asleep so easily.”

You looked at the picture for a moment, the memory of that time rushing back. “I used to be able to sleep anywhere, didn’t I?” You said softly. “I’d fall asleep in the back of the car, on the floor of the motel room... anywhere. It didn’t matter, as long as you guys were there.”

Sam nodded, his eyes softening. “Yeah. And Dean would always make sure you were comfortable, even if it meant giving up his seat or letting you sleep in the front.”

Your throat tightened as you looked at the photo again, feeling the pang of longing for simpler days. "He always took care of me," you whispered, the words barely audible. "Even when things were rough, he made sure I was taken care of."

Sam’s expression darkened slightly, but he didn't say anything for a moment. He turned to the next photo, his fingers brushing over the surface, as if the memories were too much for words.

This one was from another time, a shot of the three of you standing in front of the Impala, the sun setting behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. You were all leaning casually against the car, smiles on your faces as you took a break after another long day. There was something about the photo that captured a moment of calmness, like you could take a breath and believe that everything would be okay.

“That was the summer we finally took a real break,” Sam murmured, almost to himself. “We didn’t have a hunt for a few weeks. Just… time together. I remember feeling like that moment could last forever.”

You smiled at the memory, but the happiness it brought was bittersweet. “We didn’t know how rare those moments would be. It’s like we thought we could escape it all, just for a little while.”

“And we did,” Sam said softly, his voice laced with a quiet sorrow. “Even if it was just for a moment, we were free. We were happy.”

You let out a long sigh, turning your attention to the next photo. It was a picture of the three of you standing by a creek, Sam holding up a fish he had caught. Dean was laughing, looking more carefree than you had seen in years. You were standing between them, holding a fishing rod in one hand, a playful grin on your face.

“We almost didn’t catch anything that day,” Sam chuckled, remembering. “But we didn’t care. It was just nice to be out there.”

You nodded, a soft, smirk on your lips. “We spent hours there and I was the only one that caught a fish.”

Sam let out a chuckle, his finger lingering on the edge of the photo. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You felt the familiar ache in your chest, but you weren’t sure if it was the memories or the overwhelming pain that had been gnawing at you for so long.

“I miss it,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I miss when we were all okay. When we weren’t broken.”

Sam gently put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. “We’re still here,” he said, his voice steady, though the pain was clear in his eyes. “And we’re going to get through this.”

You leaned into Sam's embrace, taking a deep breath, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you.

“I know we will,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “You’re not going to stop, Sam. You won’t stop until he’s back. And I won’t stop either. I’ll fight for him. For both of you. For our family.”

Sam looked down at you, his hand resting on your arm for a brief moment. The look in his eyes softened, but there was still a flicker of sadness there.

“You always know just what to say,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But then, it faltered, as if the weight of the situation caught up with him again. “I need to go give Dean more blood. Just... hang in there, okay?”

You nodded, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m going to flip through a few more photos and then I’m going to face him again. I’m ready, we’re going to get him back, Sammy.”

Sam gave you a long, searching look, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and pain. He squeezed your shoulder gently, his thumb brushing over your skin like he was trying to convey all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. “You’re stronger than you know,” he said softly, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He let out a shaky breath, forcing a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He turned and walked out the door.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with the photos, the memories, and the overwhelming determination to get your brother back.

You sat in the quiet room, the silence only broken by the soft rustle of photos as you flipped through them. Each one was a little piece of the past, and you couldn’t help but get lost in them, memories flooding back of moments when life felt simpler, when your family wasn’t shattered. You smiled softly at a few, some of you, Sam, and Dean as kids, others of the three of you laughing on the road. Dean’s arm was always around you, a silent protector.

But as time went on, the smiles faded, the weight of the present settling in. You flipped through more photos, trying to hold onto something, anything, to remind you that you hadn’t lost it all.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the bunker shifted.

The steady hum of the bunker’s lights flickered, and you froze, a chill crawling up your spine. The steady silence was broken by the shrill, jarring sound of the alarm. It was blaring through the entire place, and the lights flashed red, casting the entire room in an eerie glow. Your breath caught in your throat as the ground seemed to vibrate with urgency.

The bunker was on lockdown.

A feeling of dread washed over you, the panic rising as you glanced toward the door. You could hear the buzz of the alarm reverberating through the walls, a constant reminder that something was wrong. Something had happened, and you weren’t sure what.

You stood up, your heart pounding in your chest, the photos scattering around you as you rushed toward the door. The bunker had never gone on lockdown unless something major was going down—something serious.

And that’s when you realized. Whatever was happening, it was happening now.

Your mind raced with thoughts of Sam, of Dean, of everything that was slipping out of control. You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to gather your thoughts, but the alarm kept ringing in your ears, pressing in on you.

Your thoughts spiraled as you heard the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps pounding down the hallway.

No. No, no.

The voice you dreaded pierced through the growing panic like a blade.

“Smart Sam!” Dean's voice echoed, rough and cold. “Put the bunker on lockdown!” His tone was sharp, filled with menace, and it only made your heart race faster, a deep, primal fear clawing at your chest. “I hope you have our sweet baby sister with you because if I find her first…” He trailed off chuckling darkly.

You froze, paralyzed by the sound, your mind scrambling for what to do. A pit of dread opened in your stomach.

The realization hit you all at once. Dean—demon Dean—was loose. The man you trusted, the man who practically raised you, was no longer the one who would protect you. He was the one you had to run from.

Panic rose in your throat as you rushed to make a decision. There was no time. He was close, and you could hear his mocking tone as he stomped down the hall, getting closer. In a moment of sheer instinct, you crouched low, hiding under his bed. You held your breath, praying he wouldn’t find you, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t look here.

The footsteps grew louder, and then—crash. The door to his room was flung open with a violent force. You flinched, pressing yourself further against the cool floorboards, your heart pounding so loudly you thought it might give you away. The door slammed against the wall, the sound reverberating through the bunker, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to stay silent.

Dean’s voice, dripping with dark amusement, broke the silence.

“Well, well, well…” His tone was twisted, mocking, like he was savoring the moment. "Looks like little sister has been rummaging through my stuff. I should've known you'd come crawling back here.”

You could hear him moving around the room, his footsteps heavy as he paced, no doubt seeing the scattered photos that littered the floor, the ones you had been looking through. The ones that meant so much to you. The memories of a time when Dean had been the brother you could count on. His laughter. His warmth. That was all gone now.

He snorted, his voice oozing with cruelty. “You really think you can hide from me, sweetheart?”

You felt every word like a punch to the gut. His presence was suffocating, and the room felt colder, darker with every word that came out of his mouth.

He paused, and for a split second, you thought he was going to leave. But then the sound of his heavy breathing grew louder, closer. He was right near the bed now.

"What's the matter?" His voice dropped lower, taunting. "Too scared to come out and face me, kiddo?"

Your chest tightened, each breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t do anything but stay hidden, the weight of terror pinning you in place.

Then, you heard him bend down, the sound of his hands brushing against the floor. He was too close. The next thing you knew, you could feel his gaze on the edge of the bed, your pulse skyrocketing.

“I know you’re here,” Dean sneered, the sound of his voice creeping along your spine like ice.

A cruel chuckle escaped his lips, the sound as dark and chilling as the red lights flashing through the room. "I think you should come out, sweetheart. Come out and let me see that pretty little face of yours." His voice dripped with venom. "Come on, I promise I wont make you beg for death for too long.“

You fought the urge to scream, fighting every ounce of fear that racked your body. “I’ll be gentle and maybe make it a little quicker than I originally intended… maybe.” He taunted, before moving away from the bed completely.

Then the sound of his boots echoed out of the room and down the hallway. He chuckled darkly, the laughter booming off the walls. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, baby sis. I just wanna play. Don’t you miss your big brother?"

You heard the soft thump of his boots retreating further down the hall, the distant echo of his voice mocking you. Now’s your chance.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to focus, listening for his movements to die down. “Sammy! Once I find our sister—Oh! You’ll wish I never had.” He screamed down the hall. You jumped in fright from under the bed as the sound of his voice faded into the distance.

Finally, you heard the familiar creak of the floorboards in the hallway, followed by silence.

The coast had to be clear.

With a soft breath, you pushed yourself out from under the bed, crawling on your hands and knees, barely daring to make a sound. The darkness seemed to stretch around you as you moved towards the door, your heart hammering in your chest.

The hall was empty. You held your breath and moved quickly, praying he wouldn’t hear you. You had to find Sam and get the hell out of this nightmare. You turned the corner, heart pounding in your throat, the brief moment of freedom fading as you collided hard with Dean’s chest. The impact knocked you to the floor and the breath left your lungs. You looked up and was met with his cold dark eyes and subtle smirk which only grew more as you tried scrambling away from him on the floor. “No, no, no, no, no,” you whispered, your voice trembling in pure terror. That's when your eyes caught sight of the hammer in his hand—twirling slowly, almost gleefully, the cold metal gleaming in the dim light as he grinned down at you. “No! Dean, no, please!” You shrieked as you turned and clawed desperately at the floor to get away, your fingers scraping against the cold surface, each movement frantic, full of pure terror. Every inch you gained felt like a victory, but with each breath, you knew Dean was right behind you, enjoying your struggle. You needed to escape. You had to. As soon as you pulled yourself off the floor, you felt it.

A cold, iron grip closed around your ankle.

“NO!” You screamed, thrashing with a force you didn’t even know you had. You kicked, you twisted, you screamed—every muscle in your body locked in pure, unrelenting panic. Your heart raced as if it were about to tear itself from your chest, each shriek more frantic than the last.

Dean dragged you back, hard, and your body slammed into the floor with a sickening thud, the impact rattling your bones, the air knocked from your lungs in a painful gasp, and a horrible crack came from your head. The world around you spun for a moment, and then all that was left was the terror—him, his grip, his presence—everything closing in on you. You felt the cold floor against your cheek, felt your body slacken for a second, but it only fueled your panic more.

“Please, don’t! Please!” You screamed, your voice wild, hoarse, the sound of your cries raw and desperate. “Please don’t do it! Please—please, Dean, I’m begging you, please!” You tried to claw your way away again, but it was no use. Every time you moved, he was there, pulling you back, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. “Please, Dean! Sammy, help! Please, help me!” You screamed, your voice echoing through the bunker.

Dean’s laugh was low, dark, a twisted sound that sent ice running through your veins. “Sammy’s a little held up right now.” He smirked, knowing the trap he put Sam in so that he could get to you. The hammer glinted in his hand, a cold, mocking glimmer that reflected the red lights overhead. “It’s just you and me, kid. Well until Sammy sees your little body lying here lifeless. Oh, he’s going to be devastated when he finds you… well only until I also finish him off.” Your body trembled in terror as your gaze locked onto his weapon, and you could feel the world around you closing in tighter with each passing second.

“PLEASE, DEAN, DON’T—!” The scream ripped from your throat, echoing down the hallway like a cry for mercy, but there was no mercy. There was nothing but the chilling smile on his face as he stared down at you, that cruel gleam in his eyes, his hand tightening on your leg.

“You should’ve stayed hidden,” he said, his voice low, mocking, as if he was savoring every second of your terror. “You never learn, do you?”

You kicked again, harder this time, desperate, but his grip was unrelenting. Tears flooded your eyes, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. “No... no, please... no...” you pleaded, but your words were barely coherent through the sobs. The fear coursing through you was overwhelming, suffocating. Dean didn’t care. His grip tightened around you, and you winced, feeling the pressure like a vice. “Begging me won’t help you,” he spat, voice dripping with venom. “You think that’s gonna save you?” He dragged you roughly toward him, his lips curling into a grin that was nothing but pure malice. “You think crying is gonna get you out of this?” He breathed his hot breath on your face. You were shaking, your body locked in a full-body tremor of fear. Your head was spinning, your heart pounding, and with every breath, it felt as if you were sinking deeper into a nightmare you couldn’t escape. “No, please, please, Dean,” you whimpered, struggling against his hold. The more you begged, the more twisted Dean’s expression became, savoring every ounce of your fear. His hand shot out suddenly, grabbing the back of your head and slamming it down onto the floor with brutal force. Your vision blurred from the impact, pain radiating through your skull, but Dean only laughed—low and sick. His face got closer to you this time, "Don’t think for a second that you’re in control here," he snarled. The hammer twirled in his hand again, slow, deliberate. Each spin was a reminder of the power he had over you. You tried to move, to escape, but your body was shaking too violently, too weak to fight back. “S-s’mmy Please.” You managed to squeak out, but it was barely above a whisper. Dean leaned down over you, his grin wide and predatory. His voice was almost a purr now, but there was nothing sweet about it. "You think anyone cares? You think Sam cares? No... no, sweetheart. No one’s saving you." You screamed, your voice a raw shriek of pure terror as you thrashed beneath him. Dean’s grip loosened completely before you felt his hands wrap around your throat. He tightened them with a suffocating weight. Your breaths gasped as you hands slapped weakly against his chest. "Okay..." Dean whispered, drawing out the words like a dark lullaby, "Let’s see if you can beg now."

This was it. You were going to die. You were going to die at the hands of your brother. The man who always protected you and cared for you.

You stared into his cold eyes as you felt yours start to drift off. But, just before your world went completely dark, the crushing weight was lifted off of you. You turned over and sucked in a desperate breath when you felt hands on your shoulders. You cried out a horrific rasp, flinching away, but Sam’s soft voice cut through the haze. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. Its Sam. It’s Sammy. Look at me, okay? Please, just look at me.” His voice cracked, raw with worry, but there was urgency, a trembling desperation you had never heard before. You could barely lift your head. Every breath felt like it might be your last. You gasped, wheezed, every inhale tearing through your lungs, each one harder than the last.

“Can you breathe?” Sam’s tone was filled with panic as he cupped your face. He frantically scanned your face and saw the blood, the cuts, and the way your body trembled. His stomach twisted with a sickening feeling. His thumb wiped away the blood from your temple, but you could feel the tremble in his touch. “Hey, can you breathe?” He asked urgently in one last desperate plea for an answer.

You clutched at your chest, fighting for just one more breath. “S’mmy?” You managed to rasp, your vision blurred and unfocused.

"Yeah, baby, it’s me. It’s me, but I need you to breathe," Sam reassured you softly, cupping your face and lifting your chin up so you could have better access to your airways. “Breathe with me, okay? Slow, deep breaths, sweetheart. In... and out. You’re okay, just focus on me.”

Your body shook with the effort, your chest burning, the air too thin, but Sam’s voice—soft, insistent, like he couldn’t bear to see you struggle any longer—pushed you to focus. "In through your nose, baby, just like I’m doing, slow and deep. You can do this. You’re going to breathe. I need you to do this with me. Please."

You tried to follow his rhythm, desperate to calm the storm raging inside of you. Slowly, each breath came a little easier, though it felt like your body fought against every ounce of effort. You sucked in another shaky breath, and for the first time, you felt the pressure in your chest lift just a fraction. One breath. One more...

And then you heard it.

A scream. Raw. Full of agony. It echoed in your ears, tearing through the fragile calm Sam’s voice had built. You forced your eyes open and jolted up. You body exhumed the last bit of energy it had to see the scene before you which made your blood run cold.

Dean was locked in Castiel’s unyielding grip, his body thrashing violently against the angel’s strength. Cas’s hands were tight around Dean’s arms, dragging him away, his expression unreadable, but his hold relentless. Dean’s voice cracked, a mixture of rage and pain, as he screamed and grunted, trying to fight back with every ounce of strength. His feet scraped against the ground as he was dragged farther from you, but it was useless.

"Sam..." You barely whispered the word, the terror creeping back into your chest. Your heart lurched at the sight.

“No, no, no...” Sam’s voice trembled with panic, his grip tightening on you as if he were afraid you might shatter into pieces. He turned your face back to him, forcing you to focus. "Look at me, please. Focus on me. Don’t look at them."

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t look away from Dean. You could see the fight in his eyes, the desperation, the disbelief that Cas—Cas—was doing this. Dean’s face twisted with a mix of fury, his body jerking as he screamed for freedom, but nothing he did seemed to matter. The angel dragged him away, like he was nothing more than a ragdoll.

You let out a loud painful strangled sob that got caught in your throat.

“Hey!” Sam’s voice broke like glass, desperation thick in the air. His thumb brushed your cheek, but it was frantic, not soothing. “Look at me.” His words were raw, pleading, a cry in the storm. "I’m right here, it’s okay. You’re safe. Just breathe."

His voice cracked again, his words thick with fear, and you saw it—real fear in his eyes. Sam, always the strong one, always the rock, was unraveling, torn apart by the sight of you—of Dean—and there was nothing he could do.

Dean’s screams echoed in the background, and you felt the tremor in Sam’s hand as he held you, his entire body trembling with the weight of what was happening. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

You tried to focus on Sam. Just Sam. His face was so close now, eyes searching yours, lips moving in a desperate whisper. “You’re safe. You’re with me. I’m not leaving you. I’m so sorry.”

Each breath felt like it might be your last, but you tried, for Sam. You focused on him, on the sound of his voice, his presence anchoring you. Dean’s cries still echoed, but Sam was your anchor. Sam was all that mattered. And slowly, just slowly, your breath began to steady.

“Good girl,” Sam murmured softly, his voice thick with relief. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

He was practically holding you up so he gently guided your back to the wall so he could check you over. Your body felt broken, bruised, but Sam was there—strong, steady, never leaving your side.

His touch was tender, but there was an edge of urgency to it, as if he needed to make sure you were really here, really okay.

“Let me check your head,” Sam said softly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of a concussion. His fingers gently probed your skull, checking for bumps or bruises. You winced, a sharp gasp escaping you, as he touched the sensitive area at the back of your head. Sam’s eyes darkened with helpless fear.

"Sorry, sorry, baby, I know that hurts," he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. "But I have to check, I need to make sure you’re okay." His words were strained, his hand hovering over your head, checking for swelling, for damage.

The dull throb of your head making it harder to focus. “M’head... hurts,” you rasped, your voice barely audible.

“I know, sweetheart,” Sam whispered, his face tight with concern.

You tried to shift, to sit up more, but the pressure in your neck made your entire body scream in agony, and your hand instinctively shot up to your throat.

“No, don’t touch it, sweetheart.” Sam’s voice broke like glass, and you felt his hand gently pull yours away from your neck.

He was trying to keep you still, but you could feel the weight of his panic pushing against the calm he was trying to create. Sam’s hands were already covered in your blood, but he wasn’t hesitating. His fingers brushing against the swelling bruises. His breath caught as he saw the darkening marks, the deepening shade of purple and blue spreading over your throat. He pressed lightly, as gently as he could, but the discomfort in your eyes was enough for him to stop. His expression twisted with a mix of anger and worry, but his voice stayed soft, steady as he leaned in close to you.

"You’re swelling." His thumb brushed against your skin, his face pale with panic.

Your hand instinctively tried to reach for your neck again, but Sam’s grip on your wrist was firm. "No, no, please don’t touch it," he pleaded as his mind raced on what to do next.

Everything hurt. Every inch of your body felt bruised, torn, like you’d been beaten to the edge of your life. Your face was covered in blood, your head was throbbing with every heartbeat, and your neck—your neck felt like it was on fire, swollen and tender beneath your touch. You couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped your chest.

Sam’s hands were shaking as he carefully wiped away the blood from your face. His touch was tender, but there was an edge to it, the frantic urgency of someone who couldn’t bear to see you in pain, couldn’t bear how fragile you looked in his arms.

“I’ve got you,” Sam murmured, his voice low and full of sorrow. "I’m so sorry... I just need to make sure you’re okay. Just a little more, okay?"

He slowly ran his hands over your face, carefully checking the cuts, making sure none of the injuries were too deep. The blood kept flowing, soaking into his fingers, and you could see the horror in his eyes as he noticed how much you were losing.

“Okay, you’re okay. You’re okay. Everything’s going to be alright.” His words were ragged, like they were being pulled out of him like he didn’t believe a word he was saying, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let you know how bad it really was.

You noticed the way his body was rigid, like he was fighting to hold it together. His face was strained, his jaw tight, but he wasn’t letting up.

“You’re strong,” Sam whispered to you, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re so strong. Just breathe, baby. Please, just breathe for me."

His hand finally pressed against the back of your neck, gently massaging the swelling to ease the pain, but you could hear the terror in his voice. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Sam whispered again, his lips close to your ear. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it through this.”

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, trying to hold it together for you. But, he’d never seen you like this, broken and bruised, the light in your eyes dimmed by the trauma you’d endured at the hands of someone you loved. His protective instincts screamed in agony, but there was nothing more he could do here. His mind was already racing, searching for any possible way to make things right. Maybe Cas could help.

“I need to grab Cas, alright? Just hold on, I’m coming right back,” Sam said, his voice strained as he quickly got up. The panic clear in his eyes and his movements frantic.

You nodded weakly, barely able to keep your eyes open as exhaustion weighed down on you like a heavy blanket. Just before Sam turned his gaze from you, he noticed them threatening to close. “Hey, no! I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay?!” He pleaded. You widened your eyes and nodded. “I’ll be two seconds don’t you dare close them!” He shouted as he practically ran down the hallway to where Cas was restraining Dean. Cas walked away from Dean, his eyes locked eyes on Sam’s disheveled presence. “How is she Sam?” He asked, worriedly. Sam breathed out speaking low enough so Dean couldn’t hear, but urgently enough for Cas to understand the extent of it. “She’s in bad shape, Cas. I don’t know what to do. He—he choked her and beat her pretty badly. I just... I need you.” Sam pleaded and Cas nodded. “I’m still not at my full grace. I can help a little bit, ease the pain, but she will need to rest to make a full recovery.” He said, his expression as serious as ever. Without wasting a second, they made their way back towards you, Sam trailing behind Cas. Your eyes were still open, struggling to focus, as Cas knelt beside you. His fingers brushed gently over your bruised neck as he carefully examined the damage.

"Cas?" You whimpered, your voice weak and trembling.

“Yes, it’s me,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. His grace swirled around you, and for the first time since everything had happened, you felt a small bit of relief. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stop the constant pounding in your head.

You felt a warm energy washing over you, a peace settling deep within. The swelling in your neck began to subside, and the pain that had been gnawing at your body seemed to dull a little with each passing moment.

Sam stood off to the side, watching with wide eyes, a mixture of awe and desperation flickering across his face. Cas' healing grace was a blessing, but Sam knew that no matter how much healing Cas could provide, the mental and emotional scars would remain far longer.

After a few minutes, Cas pulled back, his brow furrowed in concern. “You should feel a little better. Rest, you’ll still need time to fully recover.”

Sam gave a silent nod of thanks to the angel, his eyes never leaving you. “Thank you, Cas,” he said quietly.

As Cas nodded in acknowledgment, you clung to his arm, your grip tightening slightly as you looked up at him. “Thank you, Cas. For everything.” He sent you a sad smile, his eyes full of empathy, knowing you were still trembling in fear, but unable to do anything about the mental scars you now carried.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured you softly. You nodded, fully believing the angel’s words, trusting in the comfort he had given you.

The silence stretched on for a moment, but the tension in the air was palpable. Sam shifted uneasily, glancing at you, then at Cas. “Cas, about Dean…” Sam trailed off, his voice tight, unsure of how to continue. His eyes flicked back to you, concern flickering there before he spoke again. “How is he?”

Cas took a slow breath, his expression softening with the weight of the situation. “He’s restrained for now. I believe the cure will work, Sam. We just need time.”

The mention of Dean sent a jolt of tension through your body, and you instinctively shrank back slightly, the thought of Dean still being lost in the grip of the demon unsettling you more than you expected. Sam noticed, his eyes softening with a silent promise to protect you.

“You okay?” Sam asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He crouched beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder in reassurance.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. The emotions swirling inside of you were overwhelming, but you couldn’t bear to let them out now, not in front of them.

Sam gave you a reassuring nod, though his worry never fully left his face. “I’m gonna take care of you. You need to get some rest, okay?” He paused, glancing toward Cas. “I’ll be there with you in a second Cas just let me get her cleaned up and in bed first.”

Cas nodded and filled with the quiet certainty that only he could offer. “Rest now Y/N. We will do everything we can for Dean.”

Sam gave a small, appreciative nod to Cas as he left the room, then Sam turned back to you.

His hand was now on your shoulder, supporting you. “How are you feeling now?” He asked softly.

“I’m... better,” you whispered, though your voice was strained, hoarse from everything you’d been through.

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Come on,” Sam said softly, his voice as gentle as he could make it. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You nodded, the exhaustion written all over your face. You weren’t sure you had the strength to do it on your own, but Sam was there, steady and unwavering, as he guided you toward the bathroom. His hand was warm against your back, supportive, but his touch was careful, mindful of your pain.

When you reached the bathroom, Sam opened the door and flipped the light on, the soft hum of the fluorescent light filling the silence. He stood there for a moment, watching you as if making sure you were okay, that you weren’t about to collapse. Then, with a quiet sigh, he moved to the shower.

“I’ll run the water for you,” he said quietly, adjusting the temperature, his fingers nimble as they twisted the faucet. “Just... take your time, alright? I’ll be right outside the door.”

You were so tired, so worn down, but Sam’s presence was a small comfort. It gave you the strength to move forward. He grabbed a towel from the linen closet and placed it on the counter, then found a pair of his sweatpants and a sweatshirt. They were oversized, but they would fit. He folded them carefully and set them next to the towel.

“Here you go,” Sam said, his voice softer now. “I’ll leave them right here for you.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you might be okay. The last thing he wanted was to leave you alone when you were so fragile. But you needed this time to yourself. To breathe.

“I’ll be right outside. Just call for me if you need anything,” Sam added, his voice tinged with that protective tone he always used, the one that made you feel safe, no matter what.

You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes, your throat tight from the raw emotions still swirling inside you. “Thank you, Sam,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.

He offered a soft, strained smile, his hand lingering on the door handle for a moment. “Of course,” he said simply, his eyes filled with a mix of love and concern. “You’re gonna be okay. I’ll be right here.”

Sam stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him. You leaned against the counter for a moment, the weight of everything crashing down on you. It was hard to feel anything other than exhaustion, but Sam had been your anchor through it all, and his care meant more than you could express.

As the warm water began to fill the shower, you let the steam rise around you, trying to relax under the heat, to wash away the lingering fear and pain. You allowed yourself to just exist for a few moments, letting the warmth seep into your aching muscles. Slowly, you scrubbed away the tension, the weariness in your bones easing with every pass of the washcloth. It was hard to shake off the heaviness, but the heat and solitude were helping. Just a little.

After a few minutes, you reluctantly turned off the water, the sudden silence hitting you as the last of the steam dissipated. You stepped out, wrapping yourself in the towel Sam had left out for you. It was soft, warm against your skin, and the faint scent of his soap lingered on it, a reminder of his presence just beyond the door.

You eyed the oversized clothes Sam had left on the counter. The sweatshirt and sweatpants looked almost comical, the sleeves and legs hanging far past your fingertips and ankles. But they felt like a small piece of him, like a shield, so you slipped them on, pulling them as tight around you as you could, trying to feel something resembling comfort in the vastness of his clothes. You tugged at the sleeves, trying to bury your hands in them as you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way toward the door, the clothes swallowing you in a way that somehow made you feel safe. Your heart ached, but there was something calming in the way they felt. Like Sam was still here, protecting you even when he wasn’t right beside you.

As you opened the bathroom door, Sam was standing just outside, his eyes immediately locking onto you as you walked out. His gaze softened as he took in the sight of you in his clothes, looking so fragile and small under the fabric. You caught a flash of concern cross his face, but he quickly masked it with a gentle smile. He stepped forward, his arms instinctively reaching out as if to steady you.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with worry as he glanced down at the oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants you were swathed in.

You nodded, offering a weak smile. “I’m... okay. Just... trying to get comfortable, I guess.”

Sam’s eyes softened even further, and he gently cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing across your skin in a comforting, soothing motion. "Let's get you some rest, alright?" His voice was warm, offering you a sense of reassurance. As Sam guided you gently through the hallway, his hand resting lightly on your back, you stopped, a sudden surge of uncertainty washing over you. You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice barely a whisper, “Sam… can I… can I sleep in your room instead?”

Sam froze, glancing over at you with a soft expression that was all tenderness. He could tell you needed something more right now—something beyond just the comfort of the bed in your own room. He stepped closer to you, his face softening, the concern in his eyes deepening. Without a second thought, he smiled gently, his hand brushing against your arm as he nodded.

"Of course, Bug," he said, the nickname slipping out naturally, carrying with it all the warmth he felt for you. “Let’s get you settled in my room.”

He led you to his room, his hand remaining steady at your back as you walked. The space felt different with him in it, cozier, comforting in a way that only Sam’s presence could make it. He pulled back the covers, making sure everything was just right for you.

Once you were comfortably nestled in, he adjusted the pillows around you, making sure you were warm and relaxed. He pulled the blanket up around you, his hand lingering on your shoulder as he gently tucked it in.

“You’re safe here,” Sam murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Just call me if you need anything.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of your exhaustion settle in as you sank deeper into the softness of his bed. He sat down beside you for a moment, brushing a strand of hair from your face. As he stood up to leave, the darkness pulled you under.

You woke with a start, your heart racing in your chest as the soft light from the hallway trickled in. The bed felt familiar, warm, but something was off. You blinked, still disoriented from the deep sleep, and when your eyes focused, you froze.

Standing in the doorway, framed by the dim light, was Dean.

For a split second, all you could do was stare, your breath caught in your throat. A wave of panic rushed through you like an electric shock. No. No, not again.

The terror flooded you faster than you could process, your body reacting before your mind could catch up.

“No!” you screamed, your voice breaking. “No, please, no!” The words tumbled from your lips in frantic terror, your body jerking as you scrambled to get away from him.

The sheets tangled around your legs, tripping you up, making you feel more trapped. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You had to get away. You had to get away.

“Please! No, please, no!” You cried, pushing at the bed with shaky hands, trying to free yourself from the blankets that held you down, but they only made you feel more ensnared. Panic surged through your chest as you pushed harder, desperate, but in your frantic attempt to escape, you didn't realize how close you were to the edge.

And then, you lost balance.

With a gut wrenching scream, you tumbled backward, crashing to the floor with a sickening thud, your body tangled in the blankets, your heart thumping in your throat. The impact made everything spin. Your mind was a blur of terror, the only thing you knew was that you had to get away.

You scrambled on the floor, your limbs moving in every direction, hands pressing against the cold wood, trying to push yourself backward into the corner of the room. You couldn’t stop screaming, couldn’t stop the overwhelming terror. Your back slammed into the wall as you tried to put more distance between yourself and the figure in the doorway.

Dean stood there, unmoving, a pained expression on his face. His hands were raised, palms out, as if to show he meant no harm. But you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t see past the fear and the memories of him that haunted you.

“Y/N, please!” Dean’s voice cracked with desperation, his tone softer, but it didn’t reach you. “It’s me, Y/N. It’s really me. I’m not a demon anymore. Please…”

But your screams continued, echoing through the room, drowning out everything he was trying to say.

Then the door slammed open.

Sam.

His face was a mix of horror and frantic concern as he rushed in. “Dean, what the hell?” Sam’s voice was sharp, filled with panic. “She’s not ready for this!”

You didn’t hear Sam, didn’t see anything but the man standing in the doorway. You were still scrabbling against the floor, shaking, screaming, begging for him to leave, to not hurt you.

Dean hesitated, clearly struggling with what to do. “I’m sorry, Sam... I didn’t think she was going to wake up yet. I just had to check on her…” His voice faltered. “I didn’t want to—”

“No!” you screamed again, your voice hoarse, panic coursing through every fiber of your being. “Please, no!”

Sam moved toward you, kneeling in front of you, his hands reaching out to gently hold your shoulders. You flinched away from him, still lost in your fear, unable to focus on anything but the threat in the doorway.

“Y/N, please,” Sam said, his voice frantic. He was trying to calm you, trying to reach you, but his words barely made it through the haze of panic. “Listen to me. Listen. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe. Dean’s not a demon anymore!”

Your eyes remained fixed on Dean. Your breaths were shallow, gasping for air, but you couldn’t hear Sam. You couldn’t focus on anything but the terror that clawed at you.

“Please! No! No, I can’t—I can’t—” You were barely coherent, your voice raw, still scrambling away, shaking, terrified.

Sam’s own panic intensified as he looked at Dean, his voice sharp with frustration and urgency. “Dean, leave! Now!”

Dean’s face fell, the regret and pain washing over him, but he backed away, slowly, giving you space. “I—I’m sorry.” Before he rushed out the door.

You continued to shake, your chest heaving, the sound of your breath almost deafening in the room. Your hands gripped the floor, trying to steady yourself, to breathe. Slowly, Sam turned back to you, his hands gentle but firm as he held your arms, trying to pull you out of the panic.

“Y/N,” Sam said, his voice softer now but still filled with urgency, “I need you to listen to me. Look at me, please.” He begged and forced you to meet his eyes. “Dean’s cured. He’s not a demon. He’s Dean. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe. It’s over.”

The words finally hit you. "W-what?" You whispered, your heart pounding, struggling to grasp the magnitude of what Sam was telling you.

“He’s cured, Y/N.” Sam repeated, his hands moving to gently pull you into his arms, holding you close as you continued to shake. Your breath caught in your throat. "Are- are you sure? R-Really, Sam?" Your hands trembled as they clung to his shirt.

"Yes," Sam affirmed softly, his voice steady. "It’s over. We did it. He’s cured. Dean’s back. It’s really him."

Relief hit you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and sudden. You could hardly breathe through it, but you collapsed into Sam’s arms, all the tension in your body finally unraveling. “Oh my God!” You cried out in pure relief. Your hands gripped him tight, clutching onto him as if you might float away.

"Thank you, Sam," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Thank you for being strong enough to fix him. To do this... You saved us."

Sam wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, resting his cheek on your head. "We did it together," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You never gave up on him, Y/N. You were right there, with me. We made it through."

You nodded against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. "Thank you," you repeated, barely able to hold the words together. "Thank you." You took a deep breath, your fingers clutching Sam's shirt as you pulled away slightly. You could feel the heaviness of the moment hanging in the air between you both. The fear, the confusion... it was still there, but something else was creeping in. Hope. Slowly, steadily, but it was there.

“Sam,” you said softly, your voice wavering a bit, “I’m ready. I want to see him. I need to.”

Sam looked at you for a moment, concern still flickering in his eyes. “Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t want you to—”

“I’m sure,” you interrupted, the words heavy with everything you had been holding back. “I need to see him. Please.”

Sam hesitated, but he gave a gentle nod and helped you to your feet. His hand lingered on your back as you walked toward Dean’s room, a comforting presence you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from. But when you reached the door, you hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling the tiniest bit of fear as you turned the doorknob. Sam gave you a soft smile of encouragement before he walked away to give you both a moment he knew you both needed.

Inside, you saw Dean sitting on the bed, flipping through the stack of old photos you were looking at earlier, his expression distant. He looked so normal, so much like the brother you remembered. But as soon as he heard you, his head snapped up, his eyes widening when they met yours.

“De?” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Dean froze, his body tense. His face was pale, but his eyes were filled with pain. In an instant, the guilt in his eyes was almost unbearable, and when he stood up abruptly, you couldn’t help but flinch back, the reflex built from everything that had happened.

He saw it, the fear still lingering in your eyes, and his face crumpled in regret.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” he said hoarsely, taking a step toward you, but still keeping his distance, his hands shaking. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I never—”

Your eyes flickered down to the photos in his hands, the same ones you had been flipping through earlier. The memories of the real Dean—the brother who’d always loved you, who’d always been there to protect you, the one who’d never hurt you.

You swallowed thickly, a lump in your throat. With a shaky breath, you took a step forward, pushing past the lingering fear, your voice soft but firm. “It’s not your fault, Dean,” you said, your eyes meeting his. “I know the real you. The one in these photos,” you pointed to the pictures in his hands, “the brother I grew up with, the one who protected me. That Dean would never hurt me. That Dean would never do what... demon Dean did to me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, every ounce of your emotion spilling out in that one moment. “You’re you, Dean. You’re cured. I know you. And that’s all that matters. You’re back. You’re really back.”

Dean’s breath hitched, his eyes filling with tears as he took a slow, shaky step toward you, his voice trembling. “Y/N…” His voice was thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry,” Dean choked out, his voice thick with grief. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to scare you... God, I never wanted to be that thing.” Tears blurred your vision as you stepped into Dean's embrace, your arms wrapping around him tightly. His scent, so familiar, was a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You pressed your face into his chest, letting the sobs wrack through your body as the weight of everything fell on you. He held you just as tightly, his hands coming up to rest gently on the back of your head, his thumb brushing over your hair as if trying to soothe you. His breath was shaky, his chest rising and falling unevenly as his face pressed against the top of your head.

You could feel his tears wetting your hair as he buried his face against your shoulder, his whole body trembling as well. His tears now mixing with yours. You clung to him, your hands gripping his jacket as you whispered between sobs.

“I’m so glad you’re back, De. I’m so glad you’re here,” you whispered, barely able to speak through your tears. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I thought I lost you...”

Dean held you tighter, his voice cracking as he spoke. “You didn’t lose me. I swear, I’ll make it right. I’ll spend every damn day proving that I’m here, that I’m not that thing anymore.”

You shook your head, still clinging to him. “You don’t have to prove anything. You’re back. You’re my brother. I know who you are. That’s all that matters. It’s over now. You’re really back.”

Dean didn’t say anything at first, just held you tighter, both of you surrounded by the warmth of the other’s embrace. The years of fear and pain were slowly being replaced by the quiet, overwhelming relief that, no matter what, you had your brother again. The real Dean.

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msschemmenti · 2 days ago

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girl in danger

part one

summary: JJ and Emily’s Southern Belle is in danger.

a/n: trying my hand at a bit of angst and suspense with my southern belle reader. i’m not exactly sure how this is going to go but i’m excited for the challenge. this takes place before “under one roof” and after the end of “girl next door” — this is all apart of the Sugared and Sweetied series on ao3

Monday. April 28th - The ass-crack of dawn

“Make it stop,” Emily murmured, burrowing further into Y/n’s back. There was no way it was time to get up for work. She felt like she’d only closed her eyes 30 minutes ago, there had to be more time in bed. More time wrapped around her girlfriends. The weekend couldn’t possibly be over already. But as the ringing alarm continued and the youngest of the three roused awake she knew her time was up.

She and JJ had stumbled in from a case just after 2 and persuaded Y/n to come spend her last few hours of sleep with them in their bed. And as the alarm was shut off, Emily recalled the younger woman’s warning about having to be up early to start her day. In a last-ditch effort to cling to the comfort, Emily pulled the younger woman back into her chest and kissed her bare shoulder. “Five more minutes.”

Y/n grinned sleepily, allowing the older woman to snuggle her a bit more but sigh shook her head nonetheless. “I told you last night. If I came over I’d have to go home early to get ready for the day.”

“Yeah, but do you really have to?” Emily urged, eyes already closed again.

JJ, who hadn’t even flinched when the alarm went off, finally lifted her head from Y/n’s chest with a pout. “Shh, too much talking.” Y/n rolled her eyes affectionately and placed a kiss on the sleepy woman’s head then finally untangled herself from her girlfriends. Both women whined tiredly and peeled their eyes open to watch the younger woman collect her things. “The weekend is too short,” JJ grumbled.

“I’m sure spending it chasing serial killers and on a plane didn’t help it feel long either. But go back to sleep, I’ll lock the door behind me.” Y/n waved over her shoulder as she shimmied back into her pajamas. “You can still get a few hours before heading in.”

“Will we see you tonight?” JJ asked hopefully. Their late return had secured them a late start and a week off rotation.

“Yep, but you might get in before me. I’ll pop over when I get home. Now give me some sugar so I can start my day properly.” Y/n kneeled on the edge of the bed with puckered lips.

“As I’ve expressed for the whole semester, in order to pass this class y’all will be required to participate in the departmental recital at the end of the year. Now for most of you, we’ve been working on your piece during performance class for the last few months. But there are three of you, I just haven’t been able to convince to workshop in class.” Y/n addressed the class, leaning against the piano in the choir room. She was three weeks out from finishing her first year teaching here in DC and this recital was marking the start of her summer. “With that being said, can I get three volunteers for next week's performance class?”

Y/n surveyed the room for the three students she was hinting at. She’d hoped they’d take the bait without her calling them out, but she was sadly mistaken when neither of them met her eyes. She’d worked with most of them individually over the semester, but apparently, something about being workshopped in front of your peers just really wasn’t appealing to them. At the silence, she pulled her notebook out to confirm the three students who still hadn’t volunteered for class. She read the three highlighted names over in her head and tried to smile out at them as she gazed at the class. “Claire, Matt, and Jordan. You three are the only ones who haven’t done the seminar this semester. And in case anyone’s forgotten– you’ve gotta do seminar at least once to pass Class Voice. Since the recital is coming up, let’s go ahead and put y’all down for next week, so I don’t have to give anyone a zero. Sound fair?” All three students nodded solemnly and Y/n sighed sadly. “Listen, I’m willing to throw in some extra lessons before next week”s class. You’ll just need to let me know when. Anything you need to help get you ready for workshop and then the recital.” She got some grunts of agreement and shook her head in amusement at her students. College students really had a way with words. “Alright, that’s all for today. Claire, Matt, and Jordan just let me know if you want some extra time. Have a good one y’all.”

Everyone gathered their things quickly, eager to take any and all extra time they could get with finals right around the corner. Y/n watched most of the students leave and grabbed her things to head for her office. The room quieted behind her and she slung her bag over her shoulder ready to leave, only to come face to face with Matt still sitting in his chair. Y/n jumped a bit with a cautious and uneasy smile. “Oh Matt, did you need something?”

The younger man’s eyes widened as if he was shocked he was being addressed, but stumbled over a reply. “No, not really.” His cheeks seemed to glow under Y/n’s attention and his eyes roamed the room wildly. When he moved his hand to the back of his neck to pull at the loose hair there, Y/n furrowed her brows in concern.

“Honey, are you okay? You’re looking bout as red as your shirt.” Matt huffed out a laugh and seemed to get even more flustered but he shook his head nervously. “Well alright, let me know if you wanna work on your song sometime.” When the student nodded, Y/n smiled and exited the classroom heading up the stairs for some planning before her next class.

“Claire, how about we work tomorrow, and Jordan we work Thursday? I’ve got a rehearsal with the faculty Wednesday night.” Y/n asked scanning her calendar for the week. Both girls nodded their understanding and pulled their planners out to note the addition to their week.

“Thanks, Professor Y/Ln. My last class is over at 5:30, what time should we plan to start?”

“Can you do 6? That way I can get you out of here before dinner time.”

“That works, I’ll let Miguel know and see if he can swing it.”

“Great, same time Thursday for you Jordan?” Jordan nods with a salute and both she and Claire head for the door. Y/n brought all her open tasks for the day to a close and gathered her things to return home. She’d already gotten a message from Emily and JJ saying they’d picked up dinner and were waiting for her return. So there really wasn’t any reason for her to stick around longer than she had to. With food and some loving on her mind, she burst through her office door, eyes cast down on her keys. What she hadn’t expected was a wall of a person to be waiting for her outside. Again, Matt stood eyeing Y/n. She eyed the guy in confusion with one hand on her keys and the other on the door. He really seemed to move silently. “Hello again, Matthew. You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” the kid nodded, hands tightening around the strap of his backpack subtly. “I was hoping we could go through my piece for the performance class. And the recital.”

Y/n let her eyes float to the hall clock behind Matt’s head and tried to convey some sort of sympathy toward the student. It was going on 8 pm and again, she had dinner and loving waiting for her. She flashed him an apologetic smile before speaking, “I’m sorry Matt, I was heading home for the night. I’ve got some guests waiting for me tonight. Tell ya what, come by sometime tomorrow and we can find a day to work on your piece, okay?” Y/n locked her office and started heading down the hall hoping to inspire Matt to start moving as well.

Matt followed down the hall and coughed out a response, “Uh yeah! Sure. I’ll stop by tomorrow between my classes. Sorry I came so late today, time just got away from me in the lab.”

They came to a stop at the end of the hall, Y/n heading for the faculty parking lot and Matt the front door. Sliding her phone from her purse, Y/n waved him off easily. “Don’t worry about it Matt. I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night!” She gave him one last wave and exited the building to head home to her girlfriends.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Y/n grinned, tossing her purse and work things by the door in favor of seeking JJ and Emily out. She found JJ first, nestled in the corner of the couch with a movie paused on the tv. Y/n flopped almost on top of JJ with a content sigh.

“Welcome home baby.” JJ grinned down at the younger woman pulling her snuggly against her chest. Emily exited the kitchen shortly with three bowls stacked in her hands and laid them out for them on the coffee table.

“Does it feel weird getting in after us?” Emily laughed, watching as Y/n all but purred as JJ ran her fingers soothingly over her back.

“I don’t like it.” Y/n pouted and turned her head from JJ’s neck. “I would’ve been here sooner but everyone is obsessed with me or something. Three students in my office after 7? That’s about as pleasant as a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.”

Both JJ and Emily rolled their eyes and laughed, adding that one to the ever growing list of absolutely absurd things that came out of the younger woman’s mouth. “Oh yeah, that sounds bad. What did they need?”

“We were scheduling some extra lessons to help them through their stage fright. I’ve been telling them all semester that they have to perform in order to pass the class and now we’re three weeks out and now they’re all shakin like a leaf in a hurricane. So I offered some of them some extra help with their pieces.” Y/n explained turning fully in JJ’s arms to face Emily.

“So you told them to come by your office?” JJ asked skeptically.

“Well yes, I have to. That doesn’t mean I thought they’d actually do it. I’ve been saying this all year long and no one has actually done it. Especially not after 5.” Y/n grumbled.

“Right, right. How dare they do what you ask.” Emily teased, passing the bowls to the women with a smile.

“I know you’re being sarcastic but yes how dare they. Now I’ll probably be coming in after y’all for the rest of the week at least. The balance of the world has shifted.”

“Order must be restored!” JJ jokingly cursed, waving her free hand in the air dramatically.

Y/n frowned and flicked JJ’s thigh, “For people who were begging to have me over just this morning, I’m getting a lot of teasing and not enough kissing. I’ve been here for what? 20 minutes and neither of you has used those smart mouths for good.” Both JJ and Emily fought to keep their laughter at bay but both puckered their lips to meet their girlfriend’s lips where she laid. “Now that’s more like it.”

#emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #jemily x reader #gnd fanfic universe #gnd series universe #msschemmenti

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mydreamyspace · 3 days ago

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Gale x Reader - I'm Not Ready Yet

Characters : Gale, Reader

Summary : You both confess your love to each other and things get heated but you're not ready to go *there* yet

Tags/Warnings : love confession, kissing,

Word count : 762

Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The moon shines over the rather quiet camp. Your companions are all getting ready to go to bed after a day full of adventures.

You take a bandage out of your bag and put it on the cut you have on your hand. It's a rather nasty wound but it could've been much worse thanks to Gale.

You open your tent and go near the fire. Almost no one is still outside at this time of the night. Except for Karlach and Astarion.

You sit down by the flame and enjoy the food you found in the bag near you. Hopefully this wasn't someone else's. Even though it has become a habit to share food in the camp, you'd hate to steal your companions' meal. But after today's battles you're still hungry and you need to eat.

You look around for a specific person.. you see Astarion and Karlach exchanging but the person you really want to see is probably already asleep.

Now that you finished your meal you go back to your tent, sad that you couldn't see him tonight.

You get your bed ready and lay down but can't seem to fall asleep. You toss and turn. Your eyes are closed but inside you're too nervous, too anxious to even consider falling asleep.

So you lay there, eyes on the roof of the tent and your hands behind your head. Trying to focus on the sounds of water from the lake nearby. Or on the crickets you hear all around.

After a while you notice there's absolutely no sound in the camp anymore. Karlach and Astarion must've gone to their tent.

But when focusing you hear footsteps and they're getting closer. You look at the entrance of your tent and see a shadow behind it. The person seems to hesitate to do anything.

You get up and open the tent to see Gale, surprised that you're awake.

You lead him inside.

“Gale, I'm glad to see you”

“You are?” You see a faint smile on his lips

“Yes I wanted to thank you”.. you hold your hand up, showing the bandage, “for saving me today”

“Ah no need to thank me, it's what we do, look out for each other”

You get closer to him, and you can feel his hand grazing yours. Your heart beating rapidly.

“There's something else I wanted to tell you”

“I'm listening”

You look down, too afraid to meet his eyes and you try to tell him

“I… I think… I lo-”

He puts his finger under your chin, getting your eyes to finally meet his. Your cheeks are flushing red.

“Shhh my love, I know”

You both smile

“My love, the moment I laid my eyes on you I knew I would love you and cherish you for the rest of my life. I will protect you and keep you safe”

At these words you feel the strong desire to kiss him, your eyes going up and down between his eyes and his lips.

Gale makes the first move. His finger still on your chin, his lips are getting closer to you. You feel the anticipation until finally he kisses you. A soft, gentle and loving kiss like you've never had before.

You hands on his chest you kiss him again. You can feel his hand going down your back to your leg, lifting it up.

“Gale” you moaned in between kisses, trying to catch your breath

“You don't know how long I've been waiting for this” he lifts you up and puts you down on your bed. His hands in your hair, you can feel his tongue dancing with yours. You've been dreaming for this moment for such a long time you can't believe he's actually here with you now.

As his hands go under your shirt, your body shivers at his touch. His hands on you and his lips kissing your neck,collarbones.

And suddenly something wrong, you realise you're not ready for this. You feel scared.

“Gale... Gale wait”

He immediately stops and looks at you, concerned.

“What's wrong my love ? Are you okay”

“Yes it's just.. I'm not ready..for ..this..yet..I'm.sorry”

“No need to apologise my love, whatever you need I will provide.. we have all the time”

“I just want to you to be here with me, Please ?”

His hand strokes your hair and he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. He lays down next you you and wraps you in his arms. You feel so loved and safe.

He kisses your head,

“Whatever you need my love”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #gale x reader #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate fic #gale fic #bg3 fanfiction #tav #fanfic #fanfiction

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cherryeclipses · 2 days ago

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☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 i love you, i'm sorry...pt two

dean winchester x reader

part 1 here

ex lovers to enemies (potentially back to lovers) angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, no use of Y/N, bestie!sam

definite timeline inconsistencies with the show oops

word count: 2.6k

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Dean let out a pained cry, his back slamming against the concrete wall, the demon he was attempting to fight had a knife pressed hard against his throat. Sam was down the other end of the room, slumped over in pain. This was it they both thought. Finally up against a demon strong enough, smart enough to beat the both of them.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out loud, before the demon fell backwards in pain before he was stabbed right through the heart, killing him instantly. Dean slid down the wall, trying to catch his breath. "Thanks." He wheezed. "You're welcome." An all too familiar voice replied. Dean's head snapped up to meet your gaze. "What the fuck?" He muttered, coming to his feet. You ignore him, walking over to Sam to check on him. He was alive but terribly injured, you help him up "what are you doing here?" Sam manages to ask. "Saving your idiotic asses obviously." You answer seriously. "Now stop asking so many questions and let's get you guys out of here and patched up before you bleed out." "Woah, woah. stop right there. We can handle ourselves, we're not going anywhere with you." Dean snarls, pulling his brother off of you. "Fine. Next time a demon nearly tanks the two of you, I won't try to help. Besides, you look like you're in great shape to stitch up your own wound." You say frustratedly pointing out the open wound on Dean's stomach, blood seeping through his shirt. Sam took Dean aside, gesturing for you to give them a minute alone. "C'mon man, she did just save our lives and you're bleeding out pretty bad." "No way. I'm not letting her touch me."

You were leaning up against the impala, kicking rocks from under your feet, wondering how long you should wait for them when they finally returned. "Follow us back to our motel and thank you again. I don't know what we would've done if you weren't there." Sam said sincerely. "Get off my baby, you'll put a dent in the door." Was all Dean had to say.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

Once at the boy's motel room, Dean reluctantly laid on the bed as you began cleaning and stitching his wound. Sam retreated to the bathroom to get himself cleaned up and also to give the two of you some time alone. It had been almost 4 years since you last saw Dean. "Are you almost done?" Dean winced, taking another swig of his whiskey. "Do I look done?" You answered. "You're probably just taking longer so you can torture me." "Thanks for the idea." You said, tying off the end of his stitches. "There. You'll live." You stood up, snatching the bottle off Dean and taking a long sip before calling out to Sam "hey Sammy I'm heading out."

You had just made it to your car when you heard Sam calling out after you. "You're leaving already?" "I said I was coming to make sure you guys didn't bleed out, I did that, now I'm leaving." You shrug. "Please stay? I haven't seen you in so long and it'd be good for Dean too." He begged, looking at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes. You gave him a sad smile "I can't Sam, I'm sorry." "Okay fine but can we at least get a drink or something without Dean?" You thought about it for a minute, you really still loved Sam. He was your best friend and little brother. "Yeah okay, I'd like that." You admitted. "Great, um still got the same number?" He asked hopefully. You chuckled, "yeah I do, I'm staying in town for the week so just text me whenever, okay?" With that he hugged you goodbye and you drove back to your own hotel just 10 minutes down the road.

"What'd you say?" Dean asked Sam, finishing off the bottle of cheap whiskey. "Nothing, just wanted to say goodbye." "Why?" "She was my friend Dean, what happened between the two of you anyways? You never talk about her." Sam asked frustrated with his brother. Dean narrowed his eyes "nothing, like I told you we just didn't work out." The conversation trailed off with Dean announcing he needed sleep. Sam couldn't believe that your relationship ended amicably. Not with the way Dean was so quick to fire up at you and the hurt he could see in your eyes when he did.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

You entered the diner feeling nervous, you hadn't seen Sam since he went off to college; meeting up with him once or twice before your lives both got too busy. You had no idea what Dean had told him or what he thought of you. You spotted Sam in the corner booth, wiping your damp palms on your jeans you made your way over. "Hey, you actually made it!" The boy smiled, leaning down you hug you sweetly. "Of course, why wouldn't I?" You sat across from him, a steaming cup of coffee already waiting for you. "I don't know, maybe you hate me as much as you do Dean." He said with a laugh. "This is for me?" You asked bringing the coffee cup to your lips. "Yeah, black, no cream, no sugar, right?" "Yeah...you remembered." Sam Winchester truly had not changed, he was still thoughtful as ever. "Of course, it's not that difficult of an order." He joked, not mentioning it was the same way Dean liked his coffee.

"So how's Jessica? Did you ever ask her out?" You asked, hoping not to spend all afternoon talking about your relationship with his brother. Sam took a little while to answer. Shit. Had you said the wrong thing? "Um, I did. " He begins quietly. "She was killed, a few years back." Your jaw dropped. "Shit, Sam I am so sorry. I had no idea." "No it's alright, of course you didn't. Um things were good, we dated for awhile and I think she was the one but a demon got to her. Same one that got mum actually." Sam explained. "Fucking hell Sam. That's horrible. Honestly that is so shit. I 'm sorry... At least you got some time with her. Really, it's like whenever your life is going well, they can sense it and come to mess it all up." You vent, no one deserved that. Especially not Sam. "I know but it's okay. I've dealt with it." He said sincerely. You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee.

"Anyways how have you been?" Sam attempts to change the subject. "Alright, y'know the usual. Just picking up hunts here and there." Sam had a way of looking right into someone's soul, a look that would make anyone confess their sins. You could tell he was waiting for you to say more, but you don't. "Okay, can I just say it? What happened with you and Dean. The last time I saw you everything was going well and now Dean refuses to talk about you." You weren't surprised, honestly you were waiting for him to bring it up but you thought Dean would've spent the last few years bad-mouthing you considering the way you left. "He really didn't tell you?" You ask skeptically. Sam just shook his head. "Alright fine, only because I know how much you love gossip." You sighed, Sam laughed, allowing you to continue. "You're right, everything was going well. Really well, but I could tell John was getting fed up with me y'know. One day I heard the two of them arguing -" "About you?" Sam interrupts. You nod, "to cut a sad story short, Dean came out of that argument and broke up with me. No explanation, just said it was something he had to do." You finished, your chest feeling tight as you relived your worst memory. You had tried to act like that day didn't exist, never allowing yourself to remember it.

"What a dick." Sam exclaimed. "That's it? He didn't explain why?" "Nope. Nothing. Now you see why I didn't want to say. Your idiot brother broke my heart Sam." Sam reached out to cup your hands in his in comfort. "I'm so sorry. He always lets dad get into his head. He really did love you." Sam said. "You don't need to apologise, I'm just glad we can still be friends. I should call you more." You give your best friend a smile.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

"I promise to keep in touch." You say hugging Sam tightly. "Good, stay safe please." He asks before you're driving back down the highway.

A few weeks had passed since you last saw the Winchester brothers and the hole in your heart, you thought you had healed had reopened. It felt like Dean was breaking up with you all over again, memories of your romance keeping you up at night. There had been other men since Dean, sure, but no one felt the same. No guy understood you like he did, wanted you and loved you like he did. You couldn't find the motivation for another hunt at the moment, all you had the motivation for was wallowing in your own heartbreak.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

"There's no lore on this goddamn son of a bitch anywhere!" Dean exclaimed grumpily throwing another old book onto the floor. "Did Bobby call back yet?" He asked Sam. "Not yet..." Sam replied, getting up from his chair to get another beer. "What the hell are we going to do? We don't know what it is, where it came from or most importantly, how to kill it!" Dean said, slumping over in his chair. After a moment of uncomfortable silence Sam spoke up, "you know, there is someone who might know what we're dealing with." "Who?" Sam raised an eyebrow at Dean, "someone who can read in 4 languages and has a near- perfect memory for all things deadly." "No way." Dean almost laughed as the relisation hit him. "We are not calling her, she already embarrassed us by saving our asses against that demon. We cannot go crawling back to her now." "Why would it be so bad? We need help, she's the only other person who might be able to." "Sam, I said no. I'm not working with her." Sam rolled his eyes and waited until Dean left the room before pulling out his phone and dialling your number.

"Hey Sam, miss me already?" You answer the phone in two rings. "Hey. Yeah something like that. Look we're working on a case, honestly we have no idea what we're up against, neither does Bobby. Do you think you could give us a hand with some research?" The line was silent for a few moments. "I don't know Sam..." "I get it, I mean you're only our last hope." He said, baiting you. "Does Dean know you called me?" It was Sam's turn to go quiet. "Fine, where are you boys?" "Mississippi, I'll text you the address." "I can be there in 3 hours, 4 tops." You answer, already packing up your bag. "You're the best. Thank you." "Only for my favourite Winchester." You chuckle, hanging up the call.

Within 20 minutes your bags are packed and you're on the road. Maybe this time will be different...who are you kidding, you and Dean are equally as stubborn. You think to yourself as you roll the windows down, letting the cool afternoon breeze flow through your hair.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

A soft knock at the door caught Dean's attention, narrowing his eyes over at Sam, one hand reaching for his gun. "Put it away." Was all Sam said as he opened the motel door. "Hey." You said quietly, embracing the younger Winchester in a hug. "Thanks for getting here so fast, we could really use your help." "No problem-" "You called her?" Dean asked gruffly. "Sure did. We need help Dean." Sam said standing his ground, as he took your bag from you. Ignoring Dean you walked over to the pile of newspaper articles and Sam's open laptop. "So what are we dealing with?" "We have no idea." Sam began, pulling up a chair and going over the recent cases with you.

"It's nearly midnight, I'm going to check you into a room. I'll be back in a minute, try not to shoot each other." Sam begged, leaving you and Dean alone. You looked up from the article you had been reading, Dean's brow was furrowed, concentrating on reading an ancient lore book, he looked exhausted. The bags under his eyes looked like they had been there for months but he still looked beautiful. It was unfair how stressed he could be but he still looked gorgeous. Lost in your daydream you didn't realise Dean had been talking to you. "-but you ever seen anything like this before?" He asked. "Uh, sorry I kinda zoned out. But this is nothing that I've dealt with, it feels so familiar though." Your cheeks flushed, you couldn't believe you got caught staring. "Well that's just great." He said, slamming the book closed. "Can we just stop. This is so childish, we can't even be in a room together without arguing. Just remember who broke up with who Dean." Your heart was beating in your ears but you had to address it. Dean leaned back in his seat, locking eyes with you. "I do remember. That's why I don't want you here." Your jaw dropped slightly, you'd never heard Dean be so cruel, you knew he was upset but you didn't realise he hated you so much. Just as you opened your mouth to respond Sam returned. "All booked in room 8 next door." He said. "Thanks Sam." You stood up grabbing your bag and slamming the door behind you."

That night you refused to allow yourself to cry, Dean was your high school boyfriend he shouldn't have this much hold on you. So you turned to alcohol, drinking a whole bottle and then some. You awoke groggily the next morning wearing the same outfit you had on the day before, your makeup imprinted on the pillow. You sat up quickly, much to your head and body's horror; suddenly having a realisation as to what the boys were up against.

Dean rolled over after an uncomfortable nights sleep, Sam humming to himself in the shower waking him. He had tossed and turned all night, thoughts of you keeping him up. You were always the one he let get away, no matter how many women he met, how many he slept with, he always ended up comparing them to you. Now you're back in his life and he couldn't handle the thought of losing you again, so he pushes. Pushing you away, so far that you might never come back and his heart can stay guarded.

He finally found the strength to get out of bed, yawning as he began looking around the room for where he threw his shirt last night, when the door flung open surprising him. "What the f-" "Leviathan." You say out of breath. "What are you talking about?" Dean asked, startled. "I know what those things are, Leviathan from purgatory." "You're a genius." Sam yelled from the bathroom. "Well now you've figured it out, can you give us some privacy. You can't just go barging into people's rooms like that." Dean said finally picking up his t shirt. "It's nothing I haven't seen before." You wink at him before closing the door.

☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓

taglist: @s0urw00lf

inbox is open! currently writing part 3 (probably the final part)

#supernatural #spn #x reader #dean #angst #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #lovers to enemies #ex lovers #high school sweethearts #sam winchester #platonic love #y/n #fem reader

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narcjsistx · 1 day ago

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𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄! | itoshi rin x fem reader

part fifteen: new singer || BAND AU, A BIT AGED UP

plot: after your band's last concert, a few days after Rin's, an online competition arises about who is the best bassist. A whole new challenge is created by the new fandom who loves you, but people don't know that you and the bassist of Blue Lock haven't spoken in about 3 years since you broke up, when you were sixteen

02: PAST, YESTERDAY

characters presentation || last part || next part ; words: 0.7k

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!. you can find the other parts of the story by searching in the section dedicated to bllk

"So?" You ask hopefully, but Rin's face doesn't look convinced, even after all the time you spent looking for these people "Would it work, do you think?" he asks letting out a sigh, and you glare at him “You’re ungrateful” you say crossing your arms over your chest. You notice the boys in front of you looking at you a little perplexed, especially the boy with the guitar, Yoichi Isagi, who was part of the same guitar class as Sae "Can we go or... do we have to stay?" he asks, and you look at Rin, since the decision is his; the boy alternates his gaze between you and the boys in front of him, letting out yet another sigh before motioning them to stay "Let's try something..."

You clap your hands happily, sitting on the speaker that Rin's bass is plugged into as he picks it up his bass, tuning it one last time. The rest of the boys go to theirs instruments, while he watches you for a moment longer "Are you still sure you don't want to play?" he asks a little perplexed, and you nod with conviction "Absolutely. In a band there can't be two bass players. One has to give the rhythm to everyone, two would cause chaos" you say "But you had the idea for both of us, not just me" he says, and you notice a minimum of disappointment in his tone, almost of displeasure "It's not that I'm out of the project. I'm your manager" you say, but he still doesn't seem convinced

The silence of the garage is filled by the melody of the instruments, which sing a song that seems almost surreal, given that it is the first time that they are all trying it together. Two weeks ago you decided to try with this "Blue Lock", and thanks to your old music school you managed to contact some musicians, who are now playing with Rin. You're a little sad not to be able to play, but it makes you strangely happy to finally see Rin with his bass, which he hadn't touched since Sae went to Spain. Unfortunately you haven't been able to contact a singer, and you're tone deaf, so you can't help. But while they play, there is a bit of a lack of a voice that ties the melody together

While playing, Rin often looks at you. It's a habit now, when you play together, but for a while his gaze seems more human, more expressive

And this sends shivers down your spine a bit

When they finish, you burst into a little applause "Well done, well done, very good!" you say smiling, and you hear the drummer, Bachira, laughing almost louder than you. Everyone nods, realizing they are actually a good group "It could work" says Reo, the guitarist, and both Chigiri and Isagi nod. Nagi simply gives a thumbs up, returning with his face smeared against the piano

"What do you think, Rin?" you ask hopefully

"A singer is missing" he says without scruples

You're a little disappointed by his sincerity, but he's right, it's quite difficult to make a band without a voice. You think about it for a while, a little unsure by your idea "What if you sang it?"

Everyone, including Rin, turns around in surprise "I mean... you've never tried, but as long as we find a singer you could do it, right?" you ask, smiling nervously, and you see the boy's shoulders tense up "What the fuck... no?" he says tilting his head, but you don't give up "It's only temporary. It's just a way to train... it doesn't mean you have to remain the singer" you say, and you see him loosen up a little. Luckily, only you have the ability to make it so malleable, only and uniquely you

"Can you at least try?" you ask a little more calmly, and he lowers his head. A few seconds later he takes a sheet of music with the words of the song, placing it in front of him. You look at him in surprise as he turns to the boys "Another time. Faster" he says, starting to play. The melody is soon accompanied by his voice, which you didn't expect to be so beautiful in the slightest

You look at him fascinated, maybe even a little in love. And he looks back at you, singing, but speaking to you with his eyes. Maybe something else is happening between you and him

TAGLIST: @x3nafix ; @kittenish0 ; @littlejapanesesightseeingtrip ; @pan-kojiwa ; @pookalicious-hq ; @kaz-0e ; @sof888a ; @chugging-bleach ; @matchablossomsss ; @lovelymeguru ; @thebestsetter ; @yamsverse ; @princesssae ; @yuukigyatgyat ; @azharyy ; @rwbie ; @bubybubsters ; @swagkittybear ; @syarc0re ; @rink1sser ; @frogsrules ; @hwaassaa ; @chuuyalvover ; @poemzcheng ; @poisonedst4r ; @s4-mmy ; @gojosfiance ; @justtkari ; @xl-pr ; @yumiixiu

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truelotus · 2 days ago

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Princess

Sosuke Aizen X Reader

a/n: haha this was my first ever fanfic and I never posted it, but I am now so :p

Warnings: gore, blood, smut, 18+ content, unprotected sex, public sex

Mafia AU!

It was rare for you to roam around the streets, you’re never one to go out. You were finishing the job up for one of your men, after you came back to your house you’d for sure order for them to be killed.

How could they let their princess go out and do their job? Do they know the amount of danger there is out there for a “innocent” looking woman like you. But of course you were anything but innocent.

Your heels made a clanking sound as you walked, the way you swayed your hips would make anyone turn their head to you, you were something.

You noticed that a few men have been following you for quite some time, you were going to lead them into a alleyway just to kill them. How dare they think that they could take advantage of you.

“What disgraceful behavior.” You muttered under your breath as you led them to the alleyway and of course they followed you. You were slowly reaching for your dagger that was strapped on your waist. You turned around to finally make a move and hopefully get them caught off guard.

But as soon as you turned around, blood splattered onto your face. You could hear the blood also splattering onto the ground. You were a bit startled of course since you hadn’t even noticed anyone else’s predatory, as well with their presence.

And there was only one person that could startle you like that.. Sosuke Aizen.

The both of you are mafia bosses, of course there was some rivalry between you two. His men killed your men.. how could there not be any rivalry between you and him.

“Hello Sosuke.” You said as you wiped the blood off your face with your handkerchief. “Well well.. It’s a surprise seeing you out here princess. I wasn’t expecting to find you wandering out here.” Aizen said as he cleaned his dagger, he watched as you cleaned your face up.

“You look rather lovely with blood on your face, there’s a certain allure about it. I can’t get enough of it.” You rolled your eyes by his silly little compliment, he always behaved like this when crossing paths with you.

“But of course, I much rather have my cum be on your face than blood. We can’t have the princess getting dirty, can we?” He slowly walked over to you, holding your chin up.

He could kill you in seconds if he really wanted to, he had to kill you. But he just couldn’t resist you, and you know that he could never go through with killing you. He would never lay a finger on you.

“Listen Sosuke-” You were interrupted by him locking his mouth with yours, oh how you hated this man. He couldn’t resist you and you couldn’t resist him. He had no shame but of course you did. How would your men think about this?

l How would they feel if they found out that you, their princess, was getting fucked by him regularly? he was the one filling up your insides, the one leaving love marks all over your body, the one who fucked you dumb.

Aizen felt your body up as the two of you continued to lock lips, he bit your lip, causing you to gasp and he took that chance to slide his tongue inside your mouth. You could feel his hands getting lower and lower, he gripped onto your ass slightly, then slapping it.

You let out a soft moan into his mouth, how shameful of you. You were getting all excited by him spanking your ass.

You pulled away to get a breather, a string of saliva following you as you pulled away. You could see how your lipstick had slightly stained his lips.

“I can’t get enough of your pretty little face.” He said as he wiped away your smudged lipstick with his thumb. You smirked at his remark before pulling him back in for a kiss.

“You make me insane Sosuke.” You said as you pulled away, he smirked seeing you so hungry for his touch, hungry for him to feel you up with his sex.

In a swift action, you were up against a nearby wall. You could feel yourself getting wet around your crotch, knowing what was about to happen.

“This time, look at me when you take my dick. I wanna see that pretty little face of yours as I fuck you.” He said as he whispered into your ear, it always aroused you even more when he used such vocabulary, he wasn’t the type of man to say those words in a regular basis.

He proceeded to slide your panties aside, you were wearing a short dress so it gave him easy access to fuck you. He could feel your wet little cunt and oh how he loved it. He loved every little bit of it and you of course.

You nodded and watched him unbuckle his belt , you continued to watch as he slowly took out his cock, you could see by the tip there was some pre-cum, at least you weren’t the only one that was extremely aroused.

He wiped off his pre-cum with his finger, your lips slightly parted. You wanted to taste it badly. He noticed your hunger and he smirked once more before shoving his finger into your mouth, he could feel your tongue wrapped around his finger, making sure to get every little bit.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, smiling on how much of a good job you did. “Good job as always princess.”

Before shoving his cock into you, he did a few strokes to ready himself up for you, and only you. After being inside you the first time he’s never gone to any other women. You fit him like a glove, you take him amazingly. And of course you did the same, that’s why he’s so obsessed with you..he loved that you were loyal to him even while being each other’s rivals.

“You look magnificent prince-” His words were cut off by you lightly grabbing his cock and shoving it inside you yourself, you were already irritated earlier by the men following you, you needed for him to fuck the annoyance out of you.

“So-haah- impatient..” He threw his head by how tight you were, your walls clamped down onto his cock as he thrusted into you, your eyes rolled back by how deep he was.

He was so deep inside your cunt, you could feel his balls hit your ass with each thrust he did, he was chanting your name , eyebrows furrowed as he felt you up with his sex.

Every little moan you made motivated him even more, he was proud that he could make you moan in such a lustful way.

He knew how to make you feel good, he grabbed your hips and you could feel him hitting your walls harder and faster. And during all of that you continued to look at him just like he ordered you to.

You watched as his hands left your hips, instead they went onto s different part of your body, your breasts. He massaged your breasts as he continued to thrust himself into you.

He pinched your nipples, watching you bite your lip as he rubbed them. He used your breasts as support to fuck you.

The alleyway was filled with such lustful moans, if anyone went into the alleyway you were both in, they’d find you up against the wall getting fucked roughly by Sosuke.

But neither of you cared, in fact, being caught by anyone excited you both even more.

You could feel yourself getting to your climax, “S-Sosuke..” You moaned out his name, letting him know that you were about to come. “I know princess.. Me too.”

“Let’s come together shall we?” His voice slightly cracked at the end since he too was about to cum.

After a few more thrusts into you, you came all over his cock and he came inside you, making your walls white. He stayed inside you before taking his dick out of you, he wanted to make sure that you were filled to the very brim.

“You were amazing.” He said as he planted a small kiss on your lips, You blushed slightly by his remark. You could feel your legs were slightly wobbly, of course.

“Now what are we going to do about these guys?” You said as you fixed your dress, the both of you were so fixated on each other that you both had forgotten about the dead men on the ground.

“Oh leave them.. They knew better.” Sosuke pulled you close to him to get your attention off of them. “They tried to hurt you.. I’ll take anyone on for you.” He closed the space between you two by locking lips with you.

“Let me take you home, I don’t want another man following you.”

“What will daddy think about it though?”

“Pay no attention to him, i’m sure he’d want his princess to come home safely.” His gaze was so intense it made you weak.

“Or. We could go back to my home and we’ll tale care of other things together.” He said as he leaned over , whispering into your ear.

“I’ll like that.”

#sosuke aizen #aizen #aizen sosuke x reader #bleach #bleach smut #mafia romance #mafia au #aizen x reader #x reader #bleach x reader #aizen smut #aizen x you

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anthorius · 3 days ago

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Where do we go from here? Chapter 2

Sevikaxfem!reader

Summary: You reminisce about how your mother did everything she could to try and make sure you had the best chance of hopefully leaving Zaun some day. Leading you to now where you finish up your shift topside before heading back down to the undercity to try and find out more about the new councilor. Running into some familiar and unfamiliar faces.

A/N: I wanted to get this posted on Valentines day but we're just gonna have to settle for the day after. I hope those who celebrated had a much better day than I did lol.

Anyway, I rewatched S2 with a literal notepad trying to jot down anything cannon that seemed important. Like I COMPLETELY forgot Jinx burned down the last drop before going to kermit. And really I know this fic doesn’t need this much work, but I’m an insane person. Idk if I mentioned but OC / Reader is from Zaun, I personally cant FATHOM the idea of Sevika after 41 years on this planet hooking up with her oppressor lmao ONE slip up even ONE smart ass comment that reinforces our class divide in a fight (cough Caitlyn cough) and I’d personally bounce so I can’t imagine her sticking with a Piltie lmao. Like I love Mel to bits, she’s hot as fuck, face card unmatched, but some of yall act like she wasn’t looking at Victor all of S1 like she was ready to call him a slur lmao. But I get Melvika I really do, put some of the baddest bitches together, I’m not mad in theory but in execution??? Small side eye lol (Also I'm fully on board with the idea Lest is trans like her VA and Ran in NB.)

You can still remember that day so clearly. The brisk early morning breeze and the slight chill it caused. The air up there was so… different than what you’d grown so accustomed to in Zaun. Wind collects on your small face, blowing back two little braids tied off with bows. The cobbled terrain slowly smoothing out into easily walkable pathways, buildings not too far ahead. You recall the warmth of your mothers hand surrounding your own. How on occasion she’d stumble a bit and lean on you, and like a good daughter you’d brace your small body to help her find her footing. The buildings were a lot closer now, and once you both hit the main road she stopped to slowly kneel and look you in the eyes.

Patting down your school uniform, she tries to make sure you look as tidy as possible, straightens your socks and double knots your small shoes.

“Okay honey, do you remember what I told you?”

you nod

“Do you remember the landmarks I told you to look for?”

you nod

“And you have the paper with everything on it incase you get lost?”

You turn and reach into a zipped pocket on your small satchel, pulling out your emergency notes before looking back at her.

“Good.” She returns the paper to its safe spot in your bag.

You remember just how confusingly sad she looked, the slight increase in the tightness of her grip on your small shoulders.

“Oh my big girl” she moves to hold both your hands in hers. “You’re going to have a great first day okay?” Your only reply being a small squeeze of her hands.

“You’ve got to get ready to go Ivy.”

…

“C- can you walk with me a little more?” The hesitation clear on her face, she fights it but you can see the tears starting to form. She looks away to view the city before you both, early morning sun just barely creeping in before looking at you in the small Piltover school uniform. She can’t help feel a sense of pride on how good the uniform looked. The stains, popped seams, and broken zipper no longer an existing factor of this second hand uniform she’d manage to get her hands on. Perfectly steamed and pressed, no one would ever be able to tell it wasn’t new.

Her eye’s drift to her own worn in clothes, colors dingy, and very much so unbelonging up here.

“I- I cant honey… Mommy’s sorry.”

“I’ll be waiting right here though, in this same spot once you get out, okay?” The disappointment in your large brown eyes was something she could hardly bare. She tries to think of something better to say, anything to make this better, but before she can the sound of a door from one of the homes near by shuts.

And there stood another child, right around your age in a similar uniform.

…

“Come on.” She slowly brings herself to stand, trying to gently approach the child.

“Excuse me! Little one!”

The Vastayan child turns to face you both and greets you with a polite, “Yes ma’am?”

“I couldn’t help but notice you and my daughter have on the same school uniform, and today is her first day, she’s quite nervous.” You look up shyly at the child, quickly meeting eyes before looking back at the ground.

“I can’t walk with her all the way to the school, would it be alright if my daughter walked with you?”

The child looks between you both.

“Sure! I can walk with her!” They exclaim before holding out a small hand and you can’t help but look back at your mother.

“Go on love”

With a brave step you take the child’s hand. “What’s your name?” they ask with optimistic eyes, giving your hand an affirming squeeze.

You glimpse back at your mother before turning to the child, “My name is Nimah.”

You look back your mom who is smiling wide and nodding her head in approval.

… “Whats your’s?”

“I’m Lestair!” And the child starts walking with you in tow, excitedly chattering at you. Both you and your mothers nerves ease a bit. Turning around you give a small wave to your mom, which she returns.

And as soon as you two round the first corner she finally sheds the tears she’s been fighting back. Gods she hoped this would work, she needed this to work.

“She’ll be okay. Come on now, gather yourself” spoken with a deep inhale and wipe of her face.

She turns behind her, seeing the bricked path leading back to Zaun, she looks back to your direction at the beautiful gleaming city. And on hesitant legs she begins the walk back.

In the lower region of Piltover sits the Atherium Library, a beacon of ancient tomes and archives. The vast domed ceiling, crafted from stained glass allows light to cast in hues across the marble floors. Positioned under the grand library clock is a large orrery turning slowly in silent precision. Looking up you recognize its 12 minutes past your shift, you needed to leave. Now.

Trying your best to rush and grab your things without looking too frantic you make your way outside of the Library doors. The blinding sun hindering your vision for just a brief moment before a sharp whistle pulled your focus. Shielding your eyes you look for the source until you spot tall white ears under a veranda.

“Lest!” you quickly trot over to your friend. “Hey! I don't have much time to chat, the first council meeting should be letting out soon and I want to try and catch the new-”

Interrupting she hands you todays paper documenting the introductory council meeting, listing the names and districts of the new board members, all of which happened… yesterday.

“-councilor. “

“Sorry dear, looks like you got your dates mixed up.”

Letting out an exhale of disappointment your shoulders drop as you toss the paper on the table she was leaning on. “…Gods above.”

“I really wanted to see who Zauns new councilor was” you mention while taking the seat in front of her.

“Thats what happens when you’re constantly wringing yourself thin, you lose track of the days.”

“I know, I do really it’s just- this is without a doubt the best job I’ve ever had. And I like covering shifts! Your people pay such good money for surprisingly little labor.”

“Yes, yes so you’ve said my little archivist” she mutters while taking a sip from the drink she’d previously ordered.

“What has it been. Two months? And they still haven't found out about... Nimah?”

You quickly silence her with a sharp “tsst! I love you dearly, stop talking.”

“There’s no one near this side of the corridor, we’re fine. I suppose I’m just… shocked is all. Through you I've been able to see just how... gullible my people can be.”

You shift forward, resting your elbows on the table, “Such blind trust is given to any official enough looking document. But what brings you to the tail end of Piltover?”

“What I can’t come check on an old friend?”

A beat passes as you hold each other’s stare, then, almost simultaneously, you both snicker. “What do you want from me now?”

“Such insulting assumptions, I have something for you this time” she says while placing a box on the table, “mother was asking of you again.”

“Aw, your mother still thinks of me? She’s always been so kind.”

“Of course she does, you’re the only person she knows from Zaun, she worries for you. And she’s been shopping a lot more since retiring. Say’s she sees things in second hand shoppes you might like.”

You filter through the box of nearly new clothes. You couldn’t help but lament on just how wasteful topsiders could be.

“She’s the one thats insistent I continue to keep in touch with you anyway” she says snidely.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry you’re being forced against your will to still talk to me” you say sharing a brief pause before the two of you break out into a quiet laugher.

“So what will you do now, there’s only her first name in the paper not a face.”

“And that was information I already had, I’m going to have to ask around, see if I can find out where she frequents.”

“I’m surprised you don’t already know her.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at her comment.

“Not everyone in Zaun knows each other Lest. Plus I do know she ran with Chem Barrons and I try to avoid them and their lackeys as much as possible.”

“I see.” She murmurs while looking back at the list of new councilors.

…

“Might I ask a question?”

“I don’t see why not” you muster while following her gaze to the same spot in the paper.

“I’ve just recently noticed, why don’t people from Zaun have last names?”

“Most of the populous are orphans friend, family names don’t always make it down if there’s no one to remember or document it.”

“I see, interesting.”

You raise a brow out her.

“Well”, she says standing from her chair “my good deed for the day has been completed.”

“I’m so honored to have been the recipient of such selflessness,” you both laugh as you join her in standing from the table.

“Thank you again for these, I need to get back to the Promenade and change before heading back down.”

“Naturally, you can’t really afford to stick out.”

Grabbing your things you make your way to leave, “I’ll see you around okay?”

“Hey” she reaches out, holding your hand in an affirming and loving grip.

“Stay safe.”

and you return the gesture with a small squeeze.

“You too.”

And with that you part ways with your childhood friend. Swinging through a public stall in the Promenade to change back into your regular unprofessional non piltie clothes before making the trek back.

Once home you clear a space on your couch from the small stack books and place the box of clothes down before moving over to your desk to write out a proposal for the new councilor. In it you offer your assistance, as someones who’s managed to sneak their way up into Piltover a good portion of their life. You can get her information from archives if she needs, point her in the right direction for any questions she has about topsides political affairs. While finishing up the letter you hear a thunderous crash coming from outside your window. And since chaos often breeds information, you head out and make your way outside towards the source of the commotion.

“Huh… when did this place go up?” you whisper to yourself as the men working tear down the charred walls of what was The Last Drop. You’re then informed by one of the men that apparently Jinx tried to burn the place down before that big fight. “Thankfully someone caught it in time before it had a chance to spread” he says.

“Oh wow” you mutter, taking in just how badly the building looked.

“Wow’s right girl” another man, this one older walks up next to you.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Why not, gotta keep moving though so come along.” You follow the man into a more structurally sound part of the exposed building.

“What do you think of the whole, Zaun getting a council seat thing.”

“Honest? Never thought I’d live to see the day. I’m not one to feel hopeful anymore at my age but I can’t help but feel a little… somethin’ at the idea.

“You all talkin’ bout the new Councilor?!” shouts a younger man, carrying a wheelbarrow of burn debris making his was over to you.

“Thieram! Come over boy” the older man waves him over.

Out of breath the younger man manages to get out, “I was so shocked to hear they actually made us a seat, almost didn’t believe it. And weirdly enough I’m honestly grateful to hear it was Sevika who got offered the chair.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, used to see her all the time when she was working upstairs with Silco. As scary as she is if anyone understands all the shit that’s been going on in Zaun its her.”

“I’ll have to take your word. I’ve never met her” you begin to follow Thieram to an area where they were ridding waste and charred debris.

“Count yourself lucky, the womans a force. If you saw her back when she had that insane arm you’d shit a brick. Storming into topside next to her with that thing was insane.”

That got your genuine attention, “You fought in that?!”

“Heh, yeah quite of bit of the old staff joined in. I’m grateful to have been one of the ones who made it back,” the man nervously rubs the back of his neck.

“Wow… thats- ”

“Wait you said her arm? What’s up with her arm?”

He looks at you after unloading the wheelbarrow, “The one she had during the fight was made by Jinx, definitely a design only she would come up with.”

“The one before that wasn’t half bad either.” the older man piped in as he walked past you both..

“Oh yeah the one that took shimmer? Donnovan outdid himself on that one.”

“Donnovan?” you look between the two confused.

“Yeah older dude, his weapons shop is a bit deeper in the lanes past the roundabout.”

“Huh… well thanks for the insight.”

“Yeah no problem.”

And with that new info you head over to your next lead till you hear…

“Wait!” Thieram now running to your side.

“So… you just interested in learning more about the fight that went down?”

“… Certain aspects of it, yes” you give him a questioning look.

“Well I mean, since I was there I can always give you a rundown sometime if you wanted to know more?” he begins to nervously rub at the back of his neck again. Letting out a small chuckle you politely decline his proposal, “I think I’m good, thanks” while continuing to walk away.

“Well if you ever change your mind just let me know!”

Turning on your heels you give him a parting wave with a roll of your eyes before looking for Donnovans.

You’d never really been on the weapons district side of the lanes. Pulling your hood up you tried to stay inconspicuous as you looked for the shop. Passing through the deeper recesses, you hear deals being struck in hushed voices. The large crowd moving with purpose, you try to keep up til you finally see the round about Thieram mentioned. Stepping out of the way of traffic you scan the nearby buildings.

“Hey Don hold the door!”

Your eyes searched for the voice to find it belonged to a younger man holding a large crate walking into a small building that has definitely seen better days. The door being held open by a smaller, much older man. This had to be the place, trenching through the crowd once again you make your way into the building which alerts a little bell.

“We’ll be with you in a sec!” a voice shouted from the basement workshop down the hall of the building.

“I’m in no rush!” you retort back.

Looking around at the array of tools was almost overwhelming. Your mother tried her hardest to keep you out of this side of the lanes when she was alive, but as you got older you could recall a few memories of sneaking around here with friends once playing topsider no longer became an option. School was expensive, money runs out, people die, and you had to find your own way after a while. Interrupted by your thoughts the older man clears his throat and walks up to his counter.

“Whatdya looking for miss?”

“I was curious, do you limb prosthetics?”

“Only on occasion, and when the money is right. Why do you ask? He looks you up and down, “you look like you got all your limbs.”

“Asking for a friend, someone recommended you. Could I see what work you’ve done?”

He turns to a filing cabinet and flips through some manilla folders until he finds the ones he’s looking for. Splaying its contents on the table were the blueprints for a bladed hand replacement, weaponized leg prosthetic, and then you saw it, a bronze left arm with junctures that looked like they held viles. He notices your fixation on that one, “Oh that was one of my best.”

“I’m sure you know already but this bad boy used to belong to the new council chair of Zaun” he gloats puffing out his chest.

“No… really???” it almost left your mouth sarcastically but you reeled it in just enough to sound slightly exaggerated.

“Oh yes! See here” he pulls out more blueprints and early sketches from his time mocking up the piece. And in the midst of him excitedly talking about something he was obviously very proud of you found a way to ease in some questions. Specifically if he thought someone who owned a weapon like that was fit to be councilor.

“Ha! thats a loaded question.” the young man interjected, carrying a small machine up from the basement.

“Yeah she’d been using that thing nearly all of Silco’s reign over Zaun. Can’t say I was too happy with what it was used for but, when money like that comes in it’s hard to turn down just cause of some morals.” He proceeded to put the device on the counter before getting started on his tinkering.

“I’m not surprised to hear you feel that way son, you were just a child when Silco took over the lanes. I didn’t know her too well before his takeover but we were familiar” he mentions as he grabs the two other unrelated blueprints to store away.

“I do recall seeing how she tried to clean up house after his death but too much time has passed, I can’t say I know what kind of person she is now.”

"K- KRRNNCH!" the jarring sound of broken and twisted metal comes from the device the apprentice was working on.

“I hardly touched it! I swear Don I was doing like you told me!” he sputtered out quickly trying to explain himself to his boss.

“Come on, let’s get the hood off and see what you broke” Donnovan and the young man head down to the basement area while you stayed to look at the blueprints, “We’ll be right back.”

“No problem” you waved them off.

Looking through the documents you notice there are a lot of duplicates, to which you quickly fold up and pocket away. They had plenty, you’re sure they wont notice a few missing. You quickly gather up whats left and start to clean up the stack when he comes back. Handing him the papers you thank him for his help and let him know you’ll keep him in mind for your friends new piece before walking out the door.

Playing detective was starting to wear you out, especially since you decided to do all of this right after work. Accepting what you’d gotten for now your stomach lead you back to a pub not too far from your home. Once inside you placed a togo order and grabbed a drink while you waited. This place was way more packed than what you were used to for some reason. Looking through the crowd of loud patrons one in particular caught your eye.

Making your way over to the pool tables you see the familiar face lining up their shot, and right after taking it you butt in with a loud, “Double hit.”

“Like hell it was-” they shouted, annoyed and turning to see the source of the false call only for them to break out into a grin once they notices it’s just you.

“Oh shit whats up Ivy” Ran goes to pull you in for a quick side hug. “Since when do you hang out over here.”

“I feel like I should be asking you that considering I actually live on this side of the lanes.”

“True, they’re still working on rebuilding The Last Drop so we had to find somewhere to go” they shrug off, before going to line up their next shot.

“That makes sense,” you notice the woman at the bartop is waving you over to grab your order. Making your way, you snag your dinner and head back over to Ran.

“Hey can I ask you something.”

“Shoot,” they go to lean on their pool cue.

“You used to run with jobs with Sevika right?”

An abrupt hand gets placed over your mouth before they turn in their cue and drag you outside the bar.

“Hey maybe don’t ask that kind of stuff in a big crowd like that. But yeah I used to some time back. Why are you asking anyway? Most make the effort to avoid her.”

Rans eyes then narrow in on you as they get closer. “Are you in trouble or something? What did you do?”

Extending your arm you push on their chest to get some space back. “No jeeze, and I haven’t done anything… I’m just asking.”

The glare of disbelief Ran gave you made itself clear, but they continued on anyway. “Since word got around that she accepted the Councilor position it’s been real hard to get a hold of her these last few days. Either they got her up there doing who knows what or she’s trying to lay low for a bit. They’re probably driving her insane already.

You continue to listen intently, watching them fidget around with their metal hand while talking.

“Most of Zaun seems pretty hopeful about her being on the Council tho. But it might just be the shock that they finally acknowledged us. No one’s bold enough to say shit to her right now though with all the change happening.”

“Huh… I see.”

“So?”

“So what?”

“What’s got you so curious shorty?” they ask giving your shoulder a playful shove.

“I have something to offer her. It’s important.”

Rans face falls into a more serious stare.

“Ive-”

“Don’t ‘Ive’ me Ran, we aren’t kids anymore, I’m fully capable of managing on my own.”

“Ha! Sure, maybe against your average thug but her?? Really??”

The baffled expression on your face gets a small chuckle out of them. “It’s not like I’m not challenging her to a fight! I just!-

You then realize you were shouting.

I just need to give her a letter, you relay in a lower volume while pulling the envelope out of your bag.

Cocking their eyebrow at you Ran gets back into your space, “You want me to get it to her?”

Immediately you recoil your hand holding the letter back, “Fuck no! you’re gonna open it or lose it or something!”

Ran steps in once more causing you to move back and make contact with the brick wall behind you. Their metal hand now by your head propping them up as they lean in to talk to you.

“Oh come on Ivy, don’t do me like that” the shit eating grin creeping on their face.

Unconvinced you hold their glare, only for Ran to concede with a roll of their eyes.

“Look you have my word I won’t open it. AND I’m more likely to see her around than you.”

The skepticism must’ve been clear on your face because they continue, “Come on, what other options you got? Keep running through Zaun asking suspicious questions?”

You hate to admit it but they were right, now it was your turn to yield.

“Ran I mean it, un opened. None of that heating up adhesive and resealing it shit.”

“Fine.” They say snatching the letter out of your hands, “So what do I get in return for such a kind favor?”

“Gods above,” you roll your eyes, “What do you want?”

“You know what,” the say tapping the edge of the letter on your forehead, “when I’m ready to cash in my favor I’ll come for you.”

Stepping forward you go to push past them, “Gee thanks Ran.”

“Anytime Ive!” the shout, seeing you off with a wink while you wave them off to head back home.

Finally back home and done with the day you sit at the small dining table to eat before going through the clothes Lest’s mother got you. Looking them over you notice some small stains, a popped seam here and there but aside from that perfectly fine clothes, “so wasteful” you mutter. Choosing one of the outfits for work tomorrow you grab your mending kit to sew up the small patch, and hit the cuffs with a quick iron to take some of the wrinkles out. Sealing the outfit in a laundromat bag you hang it from one of the pipes that cuts through your apartment into the next, and finally after such a grueling day you go climb into bed trying to get some rest before work tomorrow.

#this chapter is kinda lengthy sorry in advance #anthy #anthy writes #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika supremacy #arcane #councilor sevika #arcane sevika #sevika arcane x reader #sevika fanfic #sevika x reader #sevika x you #Divider by #aggnm #arcane fanfic #arcane season 2 #w|w

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