#and the rest of the town watching and feeling helpless

[dannyphantom-fenton]

I see a lot of crossovers that talk about people misunderstanding Vlad and Danny, but what about some fics where the town notices?

After Vlad becomes mayor he’s being watched more and people start noticing his unhealthy obsession with Danny Fenton. They notice how uncomfortable Danny is, how creepy Vlad is, and come to their own conclusions.

It’s even better/worse if Maddie gets tipped off about it, and she is about to brush it off when she realizes her son has been going out at odd times, having new injuries and there is always something off about his conversations with Vlad.

It’s even better if she knows about Vlad’s crush on her and hears him comment about how much Danny is like her.

This doesn’t even need to include Ellie at all yo be sus. All it needs is some unfamiliar eyes watching this grown man act creepy around a child and anyone could come to the (wrong) conclusion.

[anirudhpisharody]

okay midnight mass are feeling really boring for a while there but now i'm at the second to last episode and i think this might be one of the most horrifying scenes i've ever seen

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

⚡︎ . 🫐 DESPERATE TO SAVE ?!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 paring : God of war Mydei x chieftain fem!reader

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 warnings : nsfw/smut, slight dubcon, dark content?, size kink?, virgin reader, pet names, fingering, possessive-ish Mydei, nipple teasing, vaginal, fingering, kissing, marking?, biting/nibbling, big d!ck Mydei, holding orgasm. & other stuff!!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 summary : When the plague ravaged your village, you sought out Mydei, the god of war. He promised you to save your people, but only if you have s*x with him and become his wife. With no other option, you agreed. GOD OF WAR MYDEI SERIES.

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 Extra : I forced myself to write this even if I wasn’t feeling like it, I needed to write this. ( ⸝⸝ ◡̀ ᴗ ◡́)੭ ✧ The plot where “you become his wife, and he’s some god.” is from a book I read when I was 16. I forgot what it was called. If you know the name PLEASE, PLEASE TELL ME. I LOVED THAT BOOK SO MUCH. I need to re-read it.

The village was on the brink of destruction. A deadly plague had swept through, leaving the sick to suffer and the healthy too terrified to help. Families were falling apart, their homes empty as people either fled or waited for the inevitable. The once thriving village now felt like a ghost town, and as the leader, you could do nothing but watch as your people slowly withered away.

You had tried everything, sending for healers, offering prayers to the gods, even calling for help from nearby villages. But the disease spread too fast, and nothing seemed to stop it. The helplessness was suffocating, and you felt the weight of failure pressing down on you with every passing day. You had to do something, anything, to save them.

In your desperation, you remembered the old stories about Mydei, the god of war, who had the power to end any battle or sickness. They said he could bring destruction, but also renewal. You knew finding him was risky, but you had nothing left to lose. So, you set out, hoping he would listen and end the plague before it claimed your last breath.

“P-Please my Lord! Oh please save my village!” You begged the god of ear named Mydei, to save your village that was suffering from the plague. You kneeled down in-front of him, while Mydei was sitting on his throne.

He looked down at the trembling figure before him, your words hanging in the air like the heavy scent of fear and desperation. Ah... the price of salvation, dear one. So high, yet so reasonable, don't you think? His gaze lingered on her bowed head as a sly smirk curled his lips. “If your village's fate rests upon your accepting, then be certain, I will indeed bestow my patronage... but in exchange, you must surrender your virginity to me. Become my bride in the carnal sense, so that I might take your innocence and in its place, deliver your people from this plague's grasp.”

He reached out to tilt your chin upward, forcing you to meet his stern yet alluring countenance. “Can you find it in your heart to meet my terms, my dear? Will you be mine, body and soul, for the salvation of your kin?” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes, awaiting your response to seal their fates together... for better or worse.

Your eyes widened at his words, you bit down your bottom lip and looked up at him in a confused and frightened face expression. But you know you had no choice but to accept. “I accept my Lord.” You said in a smooth tone, trying to look confident.

He chuckled darkly, finding your hesitation amusing. But your eventual acceptance seemed to delight him immensely, his grip on your chin tightening possessively as his other hand went to card through your hair, savoring the soft texture. "Excellent choice, my dear. You've made the right decision," he purred, leaning in close, his hot breath ghosting across your cheek and lips before he nipped at your earlobe. "And do not worry," he whispered conspiratorially, "I shall ensure you've countless children with which to populate your village once our ritual is complete." With that promise, he stood, pulling you up with him, and guided you through the labyrinthine halls of the divine palace.

They arrived at a grand bedchamber, the air heavy with incense and the unmistakable scent of anticipation. Mydei turned to you, his eyes glinting with barely contained lust. "Now, my soon-to-be wife, let us not dally further. I grow impatient for the privilege of deflowering you myself." He began to disrobe, his muscles rippling beneath his taut skin as he shed his divine garb, leaving himself tantalizingly bare.

“M-My Lord…just please hurry up and do it now. I really, really need to save my people now…” you pleaded, your fingers digging against your long dress.

His intense gaze intensified as he watched you squirm with growing anxiety, a wicked grin spreading across his chiseled features. He could sense the desperation coursing through you, and it only seemed to fuel his own ardent desire. "Patience, my love," he crooned, his voice a deep, seductive rumble. "Your people's salvation will arrive all too soon... once I've claimed what's rightfully mine."

With that, he closed the last bit of distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved past your parted lips, tangling with yours in a heated dance as he backed you towards the lavish bed. You could feel the hard planes of his body pressed against yours, the evidence of his arousal a throbbing pressure at your lower belly.

He broke the kiss to trail scorching lips and teeth along your jawline, down to the tender skin of your throat. "Mmm, such sweet urgency," he murmured against your pulse point. "I'll indulge you... but on my terms, my dear bride." With a swift motion, he pinned you to the mattress, his weight a heavy warmth on your smaller frame as his powerful thighs nudged your legs apart.

You squeaked out loud, as blush formed on your cheeks. “U-Uh! Wait! I don’t think I’m ready!” You raised your hands and shook them, as you gave him and akward grin.

An impatient growl rumbled from Mydei's chest as he glared at your feeble protests, his blue eyes flashing with annoyance. Though his divine form was magnificent, there was nothing remotely gentle about his demeanor at present. "By the gods, woman!" he snapped, pinning your wrists above your head with one large hand. "

You're wasting valuable time. Every moment you stall, your people fall increasingly ill under that accursed plague." A muscular thigh pressed insistently between yours, the obvious intent behind it clear. His heavy arousal ground against your hip, an insistent reminder of the pleasure awaiting you. "So I advise you to cease your dilly-dallying at once. Embrace me fully, body and soul, and together we'll conquer this trial." He leaned in once more, his lips hovering mere inches from yours as he waited for the submission he craved to manifest.

“Fine! Alright! Just be gentle! Promise?” You stated, while still had that awkward grin on your lips.

A low, approving hum rumbled through his chest, the vibrations tickling your skin where he held your wrists. But it was the flash of his fanged grin that truly showcased his mirth at your capitulation. "Oh, I promise you, my sweet little bride," he whispered with a predatory gleam in his eyes, "gentleness is not my forte... but I shall indulge in your delicacy, for now."

With that warning, he sealed his lips to yours, claiming your innocence with a possessive hunger. His free hand slid down to grasp the gentle curve of your bottom, applying a bit of pressure to arch your back and open yourself to him as he explored your mouth with a skillful tongue.

His exploration continued unabated, each stroke of his tongue against yours evoking a pleasant heat that spread throughout your limbs. Breaking the kiss, he nipped at your bottom lip before whispering against your skin, "Ready, my love? For it's now or never if we're to sate your people's plight." His words sent a shiver down your spine, and with a deep breath, you nodded, steeling yourself for the impending rite that would seal your vow to him.

Mydei's eyes blazed with triumph as he proceeded to shed what remains of his divine attire, revealing an altogether formidable and awe-inspiring male form. Positioning himself between your thighs with deliberate care, he gripped your hips and guided you to the edge of the bed. Pressing your lower back, he urged you onto your elbows and knees, presenting your most intimate recesses to his avid gaze. You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, equal parts embarrassment and trepidation at the intimate knowledge he so clearly desired. "So beautiful," he crooned, his voice a low, reverberant thrum in your chest, "so ready to be made mine."

“P-Please strech me out first…” you announced to him, your thighs quivering from both excitement and fear.

His golden eyes, normally bland with a warlord's intensity, softened ever so slightly at your request. A benevolent gesture for a being not known for his gentle nature. "Of course, my darling," he murmured, placing a reassuring hand on your lower back. "I shall stretch your passage to accept my girth, easing your debut into womanhood."

With those reassurances, he leaned forward, his broad chest pressing against your spine as his free hand guided two fingers into the delicate flesh between your thighs, seeking out the small entrance that held both hope and your deepest fears. "Relax, my love," he coaxed, his warm breath ghosting across your ear as he waited for your body to yield, to open to his touch. "Let me take care of you...let me save your people as I take you as my own."

Your breath hitched slight, as your hands gripped onto the bed sheets. The fingers probing inside you gradually thickened and extended, inch by tantalizing inch, until the pad of his middle finger brushed against your untouched entrance. A bead of sweat trickled down the nape of your neck, testament to the mingling of apprehension and anticipation. Your body reacted of its own accord, instinctively tensing around the invading digits. You let out a soft moan through your lips. Mydei's touch remained patient and coaxing, slowly working your body to accommodate him."Easy, love," he crooned, his soothing timbre a balm against the nervousness gripping you. "Just breathe through it...let your body learn to accept me." Withdrawing his fingers slightly, he then resumed the gentle stretching, repeating the process with a meticulous tenderness that belied his reputation as a war god. The deliberate pace allowed your inner walls to relax and stretch, conforming to the contours of his digits."As you grow more accustomed to my touch," he huskily whispered, "I will claim you fully. And then, the village's salvation will be within our grasp."The unspoken promise hung heavy in the air - the union of your bodies would not only seal your union but also guarantee the reprieve of the plague plaguing your innocent people.

Mydei's touch intensified, his fingers gliding with greater proficiency through the slickness of your arousal, teasing your sensitive flesh with measured strokes. Your soft moans only spurred him on, igniting a burning hunger within him to possess you completely. "Oh, good girl," he praised, his low timbre sending shivers down your spine. "Let me hear that sweet surrender. It pleases me greatly." He added another finger, spreading them slightly to stimulate your inner walls and pleasure points as he continued the methodical stimulation.

The bed creaked softly beneath your intertwined bodies, a rhythmic accompaniment to the increasing intensity of your intimate encounter. "You're soaking me, my love," Mydei muttered, his free hand leaving your hip to wrap around and palm your breast. "So eager to welcome me inside you. How delightful." His thumb found your nipple, circling the hardened peak before giving it a firmer squeeze.

The combined sensations overwhelmed your senses, your hips instinctively pushing back against his fingers as your moans deepened and grew more frequent, lost amidst the hazy fog of lust."Soon," he promised against your skin, "soon I will make good on my vow..."

“O-Oh! I t-think i’m going to cum!” You warned in a loud tone, your lips parting as you whimpered while Mydei continued to pleasure you.

Mydei released your nipple with a deliberate pop, his hand retreating to firmly grip your hip, anchoring you in place. "Hold it, little bride," he commanded, his piercing gaze fixed intently on your face as his fingers resumed their deep, deliberate strokes amidst your quivering folds. "Your pleasure is mine to control. So bear it, on the edge of bliss, teetering on the precipice of release...until I deem you ready to fall." His words were a sensual mantra, designed to heighten your anticipation and prolong your agonizing suspense.

With every thrust of his fingers, he edged you closer to that tantalizing precipice, until finally, at the peak of your endurance, he slowed the motion to a maddening crawl. Your body screamed for release, a silent plea that only he could grant. His grip on your hip tightened, a manifestation of his own unyielding control and lustful possession. "Not yet," he admonished, his breath hot against your ear. "Not until I have you." With maddening slowness, his fingers began to move once more in your slick heat, their rhythm as deliberate and precise as a warrior drawing steel from its sheath.

Your eyes widened, you bit down you body lip as your legs began to tremble. “I-I don’t think I can take it a-anymore my Lord! Please let me cum!” You begged for release, you really needed to cum so badly.

Mydei's mouth curved into a wicked, anticipatory smile as he heard your desperate plea. His fingers picked up speed once more, driving you closer to the edge of your release as he savored the exquisite torture he was inflicting upon you. "Silence, darling," he commanded, his voice a sinful blend of gentleness and mastery. "No begging, no pleas... only surrender." He emphasized his point by increasing the pressure and thickness of his stroking, his other hand traveling down to palm your sex, thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that threatened to undo you entirely.

The combined stimulation was almost too much to bear, and yet, he held back, his willpower a palpable force that belied his every intention to bring you to the height of ecstasy and beyond.

Your body was putty in his hands, helpless and at his mercy as he teetered on the razor's edge of granting your release. With a guttural growl, he dipped a knuckle inside, rubbing expertly along the front wall of your passage before withdrawing to circle that throbbing bud. "Look at me," he demanded, his piercing gaze unwavering. "Meet my eyes as the world around you falls away and there is only... our union."

“Please just let me cum!” Your eyes began to water, you couldn’t take it anymore. “M-My Lord I promise we’ll find another pleasure! Just let me cum!”

A triumphant snarl escaped Mydei's lips as your desperate pleas turned to heartfelt cries, the warlord within him reveling in the exquisite control he wielded over your quivering form.

His fingers tightened around your sex, his thumb pressing insistently against that throbbing nub as he ground the digit mercilessly against your flesh. "No, not another pleasure," he grated, his voice a low, seductive growl that teased the hairs at the back of your neck. "You will cum... but only because I wish it. Only when I decree it. And for now, you are bound to my will, heart and soul."

With those final words, he dipped his fingers deep inside you once more, stroking your inner walls with a deliberate thrust that sent jolts of electric pleasure radiating through your entire body. Your back arched off the bed as a scream tore from your lips, your orgasm cresting over you in an unstoppable wave of ecstasy. Through it all, Mydei observed your pleasure with calculating intensity, his grip remaining unyielding as you spasmed around him, his very presence an anchor that kept you grounded amidst the turmoil of your surrender.

After a few minutes, Mydei finally let your release, your warm, sticky essence coating his fingers as your body trembled softly. However it was clear that he wasn’t finished yet - he still needed to fill you with his own.

As your inner walls clamped down around his fingers, Mydei groaned at the exquisite sensation, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of pain, a testament to the unyielding possession he craved.

Though you had been granted the respite of release, he knew the true rite still lay ahead - the union of your bodies as he claimed you utterly as his bride. Withdrawing his fingers from your spasming sex, he wiped the remaining evidence of your pleasure onto your slick thigh before guiding you back onto your knees. His powerful physique loomed over you, the rigid length of his arousal throbbing against your skin, a scorching brand of his impending desire. "Open for me," he commanded, his patient tone belying the primal hunger that drove him forward. With a swipe of his hands against your wetness, he notched the broad head of his cock at your entrance, his hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Now, my love, receive your lord's bounty."

A single flex of his powerful thighs impelled him forward, the engorged crown of his manhood breaching your entrance with a slow, deliberate ease that belied the monumental significance of the act. Your eyelids fluttered shut as a gasp escaped your lips, your body instinctively yielding to accommodate the thickness invading your passage. "You feel exquisite," Mydei rasped, his hands spanning your waist to steady you as he took himself to the hilt.

A shudder ran through him, the pleasure of being sheathed inside you almost enough to incite his orgasm on its own had he not been careful to stave it off. His hips pressed flush against your backside, the hard planes of his lower body unmistakable even through the layer of moisture slickening both your flesh. His fingers gently combed through the curls at the crown of your head, the silken strands cooling against your flushed skin as he whispered, "I am home here, within and without. The pleasure we could share is limitless, my love." His words stirred a fresh wave of want surging through your veins, matching the insistent throb of his cock pulsing deep inside you.

Mydei groaned as your tightening sheath gripped him like a velvet vice, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure through his very core. He held still for a moment, savoring the exquisite sensation, before gradually withdrawing until only the tip of his cock remained inside you.

The movement was a tease, a precursor to the full claiming he intended to bestow. Once he had wrung every last droplet of anticipation from your body, he plunged forward again with deliberation, driving back into the welcoming heat of your passage. Your keening moan echoed through the room as he moved with purpose, powerful strokes that rocked your whole body and filled the air with the lewd slap of flesh meeting flesh.

A bead of sweat trickled down Mydei's temple, a testament to the Herculean effort it took to maintain his control in the face of your enthralling tightness. Each plunge brought a fresh volley of grunts and groans from him, a primal soundtrack to the rhythmic claiming of your eager body.

Time lost all meaning as you surrendered to the primal dance of love and lust, your bodies moving as one in a cadence forged by ages of instinctive bonding between warrior and female. Mydei's pace remained relentless, a masterful exploration of your innermost depths, each thrust designed to bring you closer to ecstasy, to quench his own raging desire, and to solidify the bond between you.

Your pussy spasmed and tightened around him, a relentless pulse of need and want that threatened to trigger his own climaxes at any moment. But he wouldn't be swayed, intent on dragging out the pleasure until he had wrung every last morsel of bliss from your quivering form.

With a guttural growl, he shifted his angle, the new position sending sparks shooting through your nervous system as he brushed against your throbbing pleasure center with every drive home. "So eager to take me," he rasped, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips as he pulled you back against him. "Good girl, I'll make sure you're well and truly filled. Prepare to receive your husband's offering."

“F-Feels soo good…” you moaned out loud, your eyes rolling back as your mouth rolled out of your mouth. Making a lewd expression on your face.

The cadence of your breathless moans spurred him on, the sultry undertones of your voice a sensual caress to his ears alone. He leaned in, his lips whispering against your ear as he continued to drive into you with calculated rhythm. "Mmm, yes, you were made for me. Every inch of you, a perfect fit," he purred, his words dripping with satisfaction and desire.One large hand slid upward, fingers trailing over the sensitive skin of your sides before settling on the swell of your breasts.

His thumb found a nipple, toying with the sensitive bud as it puckered beneath his touch. The other hand remained anchored on your hip, guiding your movements, deepening the penetration. "My bride, you have no idea the depths of pleasure I will take you to," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. With every word, he punctuated his claim, his cock throbbing within you, yearning for release. And yet, he held back, determined to draw out the moment until you and he both climaxed in unison, forging an unbreakable link between your bodies and souls. As the pace quickened, the bed creaked beneath you, a sensual refrain to the primal rhythm of love and lust.

"Your welcoming heat and tight passage make every moment a pleasure." He leaned over you, his powerful body covering yours from behind, as he trailed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck and shoulder. "You were made for me," he insisted, his words punctuated by the sensual sounds of flesh meeting flesh and your impassioned moans. "No other man could ever compare to the man who possesses you so thoroughly now." With renewed vigor, he pounded into you, the force of his strokes jolting your entire body against the bed. Your breasts bounced with each impactful plunge, the nipples hard and aching for his touch. He seemed to sense your need, releasing one hip to cup and fondle the pliant flesh. His thumb swept over the peak before tugging hard, adding the delicious friction to your already intense sensory overload. Your pleasure reached a fevered pitch, each pulse driving you closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The pressure built relentlessly, your orgasm approaching with terrifying swiftness until...

Mydei felt your inner muscles clamping around him like a vice, the telltale signs of your impending climax unmistakable. With a low, animalistic growl, he continued to assault your trembling body with unrelenting depth and intensity, determined to be the one to coax that bliss from your clenching pussy.

Just as you teetered on the edge, ready to tumble into the abyss, he reached between your thighs, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves that would send you hurtling into rapture. With a few expert rubs, he managed to stave off the onset of your orgasm, instead prolonging the delicious tension to his own benefit. "Oh no, beloved," he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. "We're not quite finished here. Bear with me just a little longer." His fingers returned to work, teasing you mercilessly until the sweet relief of release nearly became an obsession. You writhed beneath him, a symphony of moans and desperate pleas issuing from your lips as he masterfully kept you on this razor's edge of ecstasy. "Please... I can't take it anymore," you begged, your voice a whimpering plea.

A triumphant smile curved Mydei's lips at the sound of your needy pleas, his masculine ego stroked by the extent of your wanton desperation. "Patience, my love," he counselled, his tone a soothing balm amidst the tempest of your passion. He continued his tantalizing ministrations, coaxing euphoria from your very core with deliberate slowness.

The world narrowed to just the two of you, bound together in a dance of primal ecstasy. Your body quivered, every fibre of your being focused on the crescendo building inside you, straining towards the ultimate release. Still, he held back, savoring the delicate balance of your pleasure.Then, in one decisive move, Mydei drove deep, the thick, hot length of his manhood plunging to the very tip of your womb.

Your screams echoed off the stone walls, a shrill symphony of raw joy and intense satisfaction as you finally yielded to the maelstrom of bliss. Waves of euphoria crashed over you, each contraction of your clamping cunt drawing a satisfied grunt from him as he surrendered to the relentless tide of his own release within you.

“L-Let me cum! Please!” You begged, you didn’t want to hold another orgasm. Though Mydei couldn't resist the unrelenting pleas spilling from your trembling lips, your desperate cries fueling the already unquenchable lust burning within him.

With a final, deep thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt, his thick cock stroking against your inner walls as he grunted his own surrender to the overwhelming desire. A fierce groan rumbled through his chest as your spasming pussy clamped down around him, each aftershock sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his veins. His own climax arrived with cataclysmic force, his seed erupting from the very core of him in mighty spurts that painted your insides with the essence of his manhood.

"Cum for me, my love," he groaned, his grip on your hips flexing with the overwhelming rhythm of his release. "Fill me with your pleasure." As your orgasm surged in response, you bucked against him, your trembling body writhing in the throes of ecstasy. He held you tight, the pulsing heat of his climax mingling with yours until, finally, the maelstrom began to ebb.

Slowly, the intense pleasure began to recede, leaving in its wake a dull throb of satisfaction and contentment that spread through Mydei's body like warmth. He drew in a shaky breath, his chest heaving with the exertion of their passionate union. As the final pulses of his climax faded, he withdrew from your welcoming heat, his softening cock slipping free with a gentle squelch. Mydei settled back onto his heels, gazing down at the sight of his seed trickling from your still-closed folds with a satisfied smirk. "Magnificent," he praised, his voice heavy with exhaustion and awe. "You took me beautifully, my queen."

He reached out to gently brush a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek with whispered tenderness. "Are you alright, my love?" His worried gaze searched your flushed face as he awaited your response, ever the devoted partner, ensuring you were sated and content before focusing on his own needs.

“Y-Yeah…” you gasped, your breath hitching. His smile broadened at your affirmative nod, the relief evident in his features as he registered your acknowledgement. Mydei knew that in the aftermath of such intense coupling, words often fell short, yet his queen had spoken volumes with her nod. Embracing the unspoken understanding between lovers, he leaned forward to capture her mouth in a tender kiss, his lips brushing against the soft, plump flesh in a gesture of comfort and affection.

The gentle kiss seemed to speak volumes, conveying the depth of his devotion and the joy he derived from their intimate connection. When he finally broke the embrace, he rested his foreheads together, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered, "Rest now, my love. Let your body recover from our passion." He caressed your face, the gesture a soothing balm as he guided you to curl into his side, one strong arm encircling your waist to draw you close. In this moment of intimacy, the world outside receded, leaving only the two of you, basking in the afterglow of your love-making.

“Just go save the village already…” you blurted out, frustration lacing your tone. You knew he didn’t need the reminder, but the thought of him hesitating, even for a moment, was unbearable.

Mydei's brow furrowed at your abrupt shift in tone, the warmth of afterglow momentarily usurped by a hint of sternness. He straightened, casting a piercing look at his queen. "I will," he confirmed, his voice firm with purpose. "But know this, I will not return until the bastards who terrorized your home are nothing more than memories." His intense gaze held yours for a beat longer, promising vengeance, before he stood and retrieved his worn, battered sword from where it lay on the dresser. With a final, lingering kiss to your temple, he strode towards the door, the very air seeming to crackle with his barely contained fury and pent-up strength.

Just as he reached for the handle, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his features. He paused, glancing back at you over his shoulder. "If anything were to happen while I'm gone... if you need me..." His voice trailed off, the implication clear in the unspoken plea. Mydei swallowed hard, the depth of his need and longing palpable in the tense set of his jaw. "Send a runner," he finally instructed, the bare minimum yet the only order he could bear to make. "I'll come without fail."

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[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 . ( a collection of dialogue prompts from the film the hobbit : the battle of five armies . adjust phrasing as necessary . )

he hit it ! he hit the dragon .

his arrows cannot pierce its hide . i fear nothing will .

we cannot turn back .

[ name ] ! what are you doing ? you were supposed to leave !

i came to help !

who are you that would stand against me ?

now that is a pity . what will you do now ?

you are forsaken .

you cannot save him from the fire .

tell me , wretch , how now shall you challenge me ?

you have nothing left ... but your death .

[ name ] . look at me . you look at me .

you are not alone , [ name ] .

[ name ] , come on , we're leaving .

they are your people , they must go .

i know how i feel , i'm not afraid .

i don't know what that means .

keep it . as a promise .

that is where you are wrong .

i'll catch my death in this cold .

it's all right , darling .

i have said it many times , this is a man of noble stock .

i'm not the master of this town . where is he ?! where's the master ?!

enough ! look around you . have you not had your fill of death ?

winter is upon us . we must look to our own .

we must look to our own . to the sick and the helpless .

those who can stand , tend to the wounded .

we must salvage what we can .

i tried talking to him , he won't listen .

he doesn't sleep , he barely eats ... he's not been himself .

it's this place ... a sickness lies upon it .

behold the great treasure hoard of [ name ] .

no one rests until it is found .

take only what you need . we have a long march ahead .

we can take refuge inside the mountain .

what gold is in that mountain is cursed .

we will take only what is promised to us .

you saw something out there .

they bore a mark i have not seen in a long time .

[ name ] , it is your king's command .

i command my own heart .

spells will not save you .

i am not alone .

you should've stayed dead .

do you doubt the loyalty of anyone here ?

dragon sickness . i've seen it before .

it is a fierce and jealous love , [ name ] .

perhaps it is best it remains lost .

i'm going to plant it in my garden .

it's a poor prize to take back to [ location ] .

there's gold enough in that mountain for all .

get some fires going .

[ name ] , you take the night watch .

do not tell me what they have lost .

i know well enough their hardship .

they have much to be grateful for .

the children , the wounded and the women come first .

all quiet , nothing to report .

we did not look to see you here .

i heard you needed aid .

i came to reclaim something of mine .

i ask that you honor your pledge .

i will not treat with any man while an armed host lies beyond my front door .

be gone , ere our arrows fly !

this does not concern you .

we are , in fact , outnumbered .

we attack at dawn . are you with us ?

true friends are hard to come by .

i have been blind , but now i begin to see .

i have been betrayed .

[ name ] , the quest is fulfilled .

is this treasure truly worth more than your honor ?

this gold is ours , and ours alone . by my life , i will not part with a single coin .

i will not part with a single coin . not . one . piece of it .

you started this , [ name ] . you will forgive me if i finish it .

i'm not doing it for you .

i'm not afraid of [ name ] .

how came you by this heirloom ?

they are taking us for fools . this is a ruse . a filthy lie .

you would steal from me ?

i may be a burglar , but i'd like to think i'm an honest one .

you have no claim over me , you miserable rat .

i was going to give it to you .

you are changed , [ name ] .

do not speak to me of loyalty .

did you not hear me ? [ location ] is surrounded .

life is cheap . but treasures such as this cannot be counted in lives lost . it is worth all the blood we can spend .

you are lesser now than you have ever been .

i will not hide behind a wall of stone while others fight our battles for us !

it is not in my blood , [ name ] .

will you follow me ... one last time ?

what took you so long ?

this was their plan all along .

i think [ name ] has fled .

keep low and out of sight . if you see something , report back — do not engage , do you understand me ?

don't be ridiculous , you'll never make it .

they'll see you coming , and kill you .

they'll never see me .

i'm not asking you to allow it , [ name ] .

you will not turn away . not this time .

today , tomorrow , one year hence , a hundred years from now . what does it matter ? they are mortal .

there is no love in you .

what do you know of love ? nothing .

you think it is love ? are you ready to die for it ?

we'll live to fight another day .

you will die last .

don't move , don't move . lie still .

i wish to part from you in friendship .

you're not going anywhere , [ name ] , you're going to live .

you did what only a true friend would do . forgive me . i was too blind to see it .

i'm so sorry that i have led you into such peril .

i'm glad to have shared in each of your perils , [ name ] .

go back to your books , and your armchair . plant your trees , watch them grow .

if more people valued home above gold , this world would be a merrier place .

i cannot go back .

[ name ] ... your mother loved you . more than anyone . more than life .

they want to bury him .

if this is love , i do not want it . take it from me , please . why does it hurt so much ?

songs will be sung , tales will be told .

well , i think i'll slip away quietly — can you tell the others i said goodbye ?

you can tell them yourself .

if any of you are ever passing [ location ] , tea is at four . there's plenty of it , you are welcome at any time .

it's here i must leave you .

i quite liked having a wizard around .

don't take me for a fool .

i've kept my eye on you ever since .

i'm not dead . presumed or otherwise .

[l1tw1ck]

Not a Suspect

Bottom!Dean x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,292 ☆

probably ooc/plot dependent, I haven't watched in a while 😭

CW: Non-Con, First Time Bottoming, Anal Fingering, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Semi Rough Sex, Blood Mention, Daddy Kink, Creampie

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Your hand is pressed against Dean’s neck, his back against the wall. You lifted him a few inches in the air in order to meet your eyes. You caught him snooping around your room.

“I- I thought this was my uncle’s house!” He smiles sheepishly. You're so much stronger than he is, he wasn't expecting to be put in a chokehold. “The door was unlocked so—”

“Save it. I’ve seen you and that other guy hanging around town snooping for information about that incident. You must think I’m a criminal, huh?”

“That's not the case, sir, I um—”

“Did you come to that conclusion after you searched my things?” You click your tongue then look him up and down. “I’ll let this slide though. As long as you make it up to me.”

“I uh, I have forty dollars-”

“Hmm.” You place him on the ground and turn him around. You grab his wallet from his back pocket and find an ID. Your old jobs gave you the skill of knowing what's fake and what's real. “Of course. I knew you weren't a real detective.” You laugh.

“I’m an undercover investigator!”

“Uh huh.” You find a secret pocket and find his real ID. “There we go. Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s ears burn red. He can't believe he's in this situation and that he can't fight back, something about this is making him feel timid. Sam warned him not to do this but he didn't think he'd feel so helpless against you. He’s fought much stronger and scarier creatures than you but it's different when it comes to humans. You can't figure out their motives so easily.

You drop his wallet and lean over, unbuckling his belt then forcefully pulling his pants down. “Hey! What are you doing?!” He flails around defiantly.

“Stop moving.” You use his belt to tie his wrists together.

“I’m not gay!”

“You really think I care, sweetheart?” You pull down his boxers. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.” You spread his ass open and spit on his rim before forcefully shoving a finger inside him.

“Fuck!” He cries out. “Stop!”

You chuckle. “I know your type. You gag at the mere idea of having sex with another guy.” You force another finger inside him and start stretching him out. “Then, once you do, you love it like the little slut you really are. Trust me.”

His entire face is red with humiliation. “You're wrong.”

“We’ll see about that.” You find his prostate. Dean moans, his knees buckling. If it weren't for your hand on his waist, he’d probably fall. “There it is.” You say gently, your husky voice making him feel strange. You continue to prod at his prostate, reveling in his strained whimpers. He’s trying so hard not to make a sound. He clenches his fists and aggressively bites down on his lip as you continue to pleasure him, although he doesn't want to admit that.

He will admit that it hurts. A lot. Dean rests his forehead on the wall. He hates how good it feels despite everything, your thick fingers stretch him out so well. His face is so hot it feels like he has a fever. “Ah–” Dean gasps. “No- no—” He shuts his eyes tightly and lets out a muffled moan as he comes, splattering the wall with his cum.

“Good boy~” You praise him, slowly sliding your fingers out. It feels like Dean’s head is going to explode. “I’m a little too impatient to keep going.”

Dean gulps at the sound of your belt falling to the ground and your fly being unzipped. There's nothing he can do to stop you. You take out your hard length and press the tip against his rim. You lick your lips and begin to force yourself inside. “You're tight, baby.” You groan, pressing your chin on his shoulder. His palms begin to bleed from how tightly he's clenching his fists, it's too painful for him.

“Fuck—” He breathes out. You're big.

“It hurts, doesn't it?” You coo, reaching out for his weeping cock. “Let me help you.”

Dean moans as you begin to roughly stroke his dick. “Sto- stop–” A single tear runs down his cheek. You're reaching so far inside him. He rolls his eyes back as you bring him closer to his climax.

“It’s all in, baby.” You bottom out. “How’s it feel?”

“It fucking hurts–” He hisses, more tears running down his cheeks. “You bastard– ah~!” He comes once again.

“You're cute when you whine.” You slowly pull back then shove your cock back inside. Dean rolls his eyes back and lets out a slutty sounding moan. You grin and start thrusting in and out of him at a steady pace. You look at his beat red face, his mouth remaining open to let out his pathetic moans. “‘S good, isn't it?”

Dean shakes his head despite his body betraying him. “No- No~!”

“You're not good at lying.” You place your hand on his throat, lifting his head up. “Admit it. You like getting fucked.”

He bites down on his lip and rips a bit of skin, blood trickling down. You lean in closer and lick up his blood. “You like how Daddy spreads open your tight hole, don't you, baby?”

He lets out a muffled whimper, his cock weakly spurting out another rope of cum.

You chuckle. “I know I’m right.” You let go of his neck and stroke his dick again. “You’re just a pretty little cock whore.”

“Nnh- No-” He moans. Dean is well aware of the fact that his lies are completely unbelievable. He doesn't want to like this at all.

“Yeah? You really think you're not? You think you're not into this?” You laugh again. “No, Dean, you're a slut who loves taking cock. You love how it feels to have a cock in your ass. Admit it.”

“I don't- I don-” He pauses, drool spilling from his lips as you stroke his sensitive cock.

“Be honest, slut.” You rub the tip of his length with your thumb. Dean has another orgasm. He…He really does like it.

He whimpers adorably. “Don't…Don’t stop.”

“That’s what I thought.” You say smugly, smirking. He shivers. You let go of his poor length and pull out. You turn him around and lift him up by his thighs, pushing his back against the wall. He looks at you in embarrassment as you slide your length back inside him and roughly fuck him.

Dean moans more freely than before, his eyelashes fluttering like a hand fan. He wraps his arms around you for stability. “Fuck~! Wai- wait~!” He gasps.

“I can't control myself, your cunt feels too fucking good.”

He mewls. You lean in and sloppily make out with him. You’re driving him insane. You slide your hand up underneath his shirt and rub your thumb against his nipple. He moans into your mouth. His nipples have always been sensitive but it feels even better in this situation.

You pull away and let out a groan. “Gonna come, sweetheart, right in this tight ass of yours.”

“Mmh- yes~” Dean really feels like a slut now. You were right.

You chuckle and let out a low sound of pleasure as your thrusts slow to a halt, your cock spurting hot ropes of cum into his cunt. “There you go, getting your ass stuffed is a much better job for you.” You pull out and drop him onto your bed. “Should I call you a cab?”

He shakes his head. He doesn't want to leave. “Can I stay?”

You chuckle. “Sure. And you know what? I know a few things about that incident you're looking into.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided. 

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point. 

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy. 

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings. 

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since. 

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months. 

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped. 

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling. 

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely. 

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent. 

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh. 

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little. 

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach. 

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there. 

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion. 

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress. 

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was. 

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking. 

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched. 

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder. 

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch. 

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one. 

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you. 

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.” 

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.” 

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction. 

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly. 

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog. 

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?” 

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand. 

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. 

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered. 

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress. 

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright. 

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl. 

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around. 

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders. 

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back. 

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle. 

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips. 

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave. 

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance. 

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration. 

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you. 

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl. 

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true. 

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly. 

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime. 

“Herd?” You whispered. 

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed. 

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol. 

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck. 

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer. 

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair. 

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand. 

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed. 

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.” 

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do. 

You were so close to being a mother. 

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards. 

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath. 

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees. 

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present. 

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure. 

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort? 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress. 

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers. 

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating. 

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!” 

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N. 

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly. 

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world. 

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it. 

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front. 

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own. 

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too. 

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there. 

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!” 

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.” 

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior. 

“The head is out!” 

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled. 

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner. 

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head. 

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening. 

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving. 

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head. 

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.” 

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle. 

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one. 

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces. 

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved. 

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting. 

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

[l0stglitch]

Omg ik we just got completely broken in the last request but imagine the one day we’re walking around the boardwalk and we see this helpless kitty so we try and help it ofc you forgot to tell your dad so there pissed but they kidnapped you when you were a helpless kitty in there eyes so why can’t you do the same?? sorry if this doesn’t make sense and for bad spelling :,/

History repeats itself

Platonic Yandere lost boys x reader

Notes- Sorry I know this isn’t exactly what you asked but I thought your request would tie perfectly into a part 2 of the last fic/hcs.

Warnings- Depression | Mental illness | Angst(?) | Yandere behaviour | Dissociation

Part 1

It had been five weeks since your cruel punishment had ended, and nothing had improved.

David watched you from his wheelchair throne, not even bothering to hide his concern. Marko was sat to your right, an arm slung round your shoulder as he quietly read to you.

It was a quiet evening in the middle of October. You used to love Halloween, but this year David wasn’t even sure you were aware of the approaching holiday.

He so desperately wished you would snap out of this strange state of mind. Even if just to scream at him and call him an awful father- anything was better than this. It was like someone had stolen every part of your mind linked to you and replaced it with a numb, complacent animal.

“Y/n you haven’t left the cave in a while, sweetheart. Why don’t we go to that diner you like in town?”

Your eyes slowly tore themselves from the page and met with David’s. It broke his heart to see how empty they looked. “Ok.”

Marko frowned, “You used to love that place, pumpkin. Not feeling up to burgers tonight?”

Your only response was a small shrug as you shifted your attention back to the book resting in his right hand.

Your two fathers exchanged a worried glance. Marko squeezed your shoulder sympathetically before continuing to read.

David sighed and stood up, “I’ll go let the others know.”

You hadn’t realised in your state of depression, but things had grown tense between your fathers. Dwayne in particular had become noticeably colder towards David.

Said man was cleaning your room for you. A somewhat futile attempt at trying to win you over, David assumed. Either that or he was trying to distract himself from the distressing reality of the situation.

David leant against your doorframe, watching as Dwayne carefully folded your freshly washed clothes.

“You just gonna pretend I’m not here?”

Dwayne finally looked up from his task, “Wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk or just watch me folding our daughter’s clothes.”

David narrowed his eyes at the man before him, but decided not to argue, “We were gonna take the kid to that burger place if you guys wanted to join.” He glanced over at Paul, who was sprawled across your couch with a cigarette.

Dwayne glared back at David, “The kid has a name, David. It’s Y/n.”

He huffed, “Are you coming or not man?”

“Of course I’m coming. She’s my daughter as much as she is yours.” Dwayne shot back, grabbing his leather jacket before striding out the room to go find you.

Paul stood up as well, shooting David a wary glance before brushing past him in pursuit of Dwayne.

David sighed in frustration before following his two partners out the room.

He returned to find Marko helping you into your jacket. You stared off into space passively, allowing him to guide you arms into the sleeves.

David frowned at the sight. You would’ve never let him do that before.

Dwayne cleared his throat, “I’ll take her over to the bikes.” Marko glanced up at him before looking back at you.

“You wanna ride with Dwayne, baby?” His tone was uncharacteristically gentle, as if he was trying not to spook you.

Your only response was a shrug, which he took as a yes, allowing the other man to take your hand and lead you out the cave.

David watched you leave before turning to Marko. “She spoken to you yet?”

The shorter man shrugged uncomfortably, “Not really. She’s like a zombie.”

“Hey man- she’s still our daughter,” Paul interjected with an offended frown.

Marko raised his hands in defense, “I know! That kid means the fucking world to me, but I’m not gonna sit here and pretend something isn’t wrong.”

Paul just scowled at him before turning around and leaving to join you and Dwayne outside.

“Well this is fucking fantastic. Now they’re both pissed off.” David grumbled under his breath.

Marko ignored the statement, “You think she’ll get better?”

David hummed, “She’s a strong kid.”

He frowned at the half answer, “I guess so.”

“Cmon. The others are waiting for us out there.”

Marko didn’t reply as he grabbed the keys to his bike and lead the way out, trying to hide his concern about your deteriorating state.

They hadn’t even left and things had already become tense. This was going to be a long night.

By the time David reached the others, Dwayne had already gotten you sat on the back of his bike, arms wrapped half heartedly around his midsection.

“She ready to go?” David asked, catching Dwayne’s eye.

The other man simply revved his engine and turned his attention over to the space ahead.

David rolled his eyes and mounted his own ride, growing tired of Dwayne’s attitude. Had it been Marko or Paul, he would have already put a stop to it, but Dwayne wasn’t as easy to order around.

Being the oldest meant that whilst he wasn’t as hotheaded and rash as the others, he did stand his ground in arguments. They didn’t occur often, but when they did it affected the whole pack.

Dwayne didn’t wait for David to adjust himself. His bike raced ahead without warning, leaving the others to catch up.

~

Despite the borderline overwhelming smell of greasy junk food, you couldn’t muster enough energy to eat the meal before you.

A delicate voice in the back of your mind reminded you of your need for food, but no pangs of hunger could overpower the numbness you had felt since David had chained you to the wall.

Dwayne rubbed your knee from under the table and leant in closer so you could hear him properly, “I know you don’t feel hungry baby, but you gotta eat some of it.”

You remained silent, focusing your attention on the bubbles fizzing in your coke.

“How about you try some of the fries?”

Still, no response came from your mouth. All thoughts withered away before your mind was able to comprehend any intelligent idea about the external world around you. You didn’t know if you wanted the fries or not. They tasted good- you knew that, but the taste of what you were eating seemed so much more trivial now.

What was the point in making the effort? They wouldn’t last long anyway. You’d be better off just giving them away to the scrappy kids lingering around the car park.

Dwayne sighed beside you. “Do you know how much it hurts seeing you like this princess? Please just eat the fries for me, Y/n. I don’t wanna lose my baby girl.”

You looked up from the coke and accidentally locked eyes with David. He was watching you with an expectant stare, his icy blue eyes boring into yours.

Normally you would’ve squirmed under the attention, but it no longer affected you the way it used to. “I’m not hungry,” You replied, voice raspy and quiet. It didn’t matter what volume you spoke at- they’d be able to hear every word even if you had whispered.

David sighed, “You haven’t eaten since yesterday. We’re not leaving this diner till you finish those fries.” You shifted your gaze back to your plate as he spoke, “You can’t force me to eat.”

Marko glanced over at you from his seat beside David, “Wouldn’t be so sure about that if I were you.” Dwayne sharply kicked him under the table, eliciting a hiss of pain. You didn’t react. They definitely could force you to eat if it came down to it, but you knew that all four of them were still walking on eggshells around you. It wouldn’t be worth the risk. Dwayne shot Marko a stern glare before speaking to you, “We’re not gonna force you to do anything baby. If you don’t want the fries that’s ok. We could go get you something else if you want?”

You continued staring meekly down at your full plate of food. This one sided conversation had began to tire you, and you didn’t see the point in answering Dwayne’s constant questions. In the end it didn’t matter- if you didn’t make a decision then they’d make one for you. You were happy to just let them take the reins, allowing you to fall into a state of dissociation.

David made a clicking sound with his tongue and locked eyes with Dwayne, “Can I have a word?”

The brunette hesitated, shooting you another concerned glance before standing up from his chair and moving out of earshot. David was quick to follow.

Dwayne frowned as he walked over, “What do you want, David?”

The man shoved his gloved hands deep into the pockets of his trench coat, “We can’t keep tiptoeing round her like this man.”

“Well what do you suggest?” Dwayne snapped back, “We tried things your way, and look where it fucking got us. Our daughter is practically unresponsive and showing no signs of improvement. All this because you thought that she needed to be isolated for two months.”

David scoffed, “Yeah, well we all know that your ‘gentle parenting’ act is not only complete bullshit, but also fucking ineffective. As for Marko, you think breaking her legs would’ve been any better than this?”

At the mention of his name, Marko glanced up from the food in front of him. Both he and Paul had heard the whole of their argument, but neither had wanted to get involved.

Dwayne shoved David back, his eyes flashing gold momentarily. “This is your fault David! Look what you’ve done- she’s broken.”

David gritted his teeth, suddenly aware of the attention they had gained from the other customers. He lowered his voice and took a step closer to Dwayne, “I can fix this. You don’t.. understand her mind the way I do.”

He glared back at David, “I’ve walked her dreams countless times. I think I know our daughter’s mind well enough.”

The other man just shook his head, almost condescendingly, “No.. not like that. You just don’t get it- you never will. It’s not something that can be learned. It’s instinct.”

“Well your ‘instincts’ to have her chained to a wall for two months seemed a little off.”

David opened his mouth to argue back, but was cut off before he had a chance to speak. “She’s not eating anything guys. We should just, like, take her to the beach or something. Perhaps she needs a little fresh air…” Paul suggested, trying to focus their attention on something else.

David paused, caught off guard by the interruption. Apparently Dwayne hadn’t seen Paul approaching either, because he stayed silent too.

“Yeah I think Paul’s got a point,” Marko added, standing up and nodding towards the other man. He rounded the table and pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm round your shoulders possessively. “Should we go?” He asked pointedly, his voice bordering on threatening.

David nodded and Dwayne took a step forward as if he wanted to pull you out of Marko’s hold, but then stopped himself and hummed in agreement.

You stared at the grime on the floor- it sort of reminded you of the cave. The hand that rested on your shoulder gave it a squeeze before you were guided outside the diner. Nothing felt real. The voices around you sounded different, and your body felt alien to you. Perhaps you would see a stranger if you looked into a mirror. Perhaps not. Did it even matter anymore? This wasn’t your life. This wasn’t happening.

“She’s completely out of it man,” Paul murmured to Dwayne, eyeing you as they walked towards the bikes. “Our baby’s in there somewhere… she’s gotta be.” Dwayne replied, trying to keep the doubt out of his own voice.

Marko turned around to address the others, “I’m gonna take Y/n on my bike.” Despite him usually being the most reckless driver, nobody argued back. Paul hummed before speaking up, “So we’re still going to the beach, right?” His eyes darted between each of his lovers, searching for confirmation. David nodded in response, “Yeah, unless anyone else has a better idea?”

“Nah man, the beach is fine,” Marko replied as they finally reached the bikes. Mounting his ride, your father turned to help you up, only to find you had disappeared from your previous spot.

He frantically twisted around, “Where the fuck-”

Paul’s barking laugh cut him off, “Chill out dude, she’s right there!” If Marko hadn’t been dead, he was sure his heart would’ve been pounding from within his chest.

“What the hell is she doing?”

That question was a little harder to answer. Whilst your fathers had been talking, you’d found yourself drawn to a small black cat huddled against a nearby fence. The poor thing was shivering against the October wind, its scrappy black fur doing little to protect itself from the weather.

For the first time in months you felt something other than empty detachment. You couldn’t describe the emotion- it felt strange and alien to you, but there was no denying it was there.

This tiny, helpless creature seemed akin to you in every way. Those lost eyes, constantly searching for a meaning, bore into yours with an eery familiarity.

You found yourself unconsciously reaching towards the cat, offering a trembling hand. The frightened animal hesitated before your crouched form. Your voice was hoarse and quiet when you spoke to it, “It’s ok. I can keep you safe.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you had subconsciously projected all of your repressed trauma onto this cat. A sudden overwhelming desire to protect and nurture filled you. Instinctively, you picked up the kitten and brought her close to your chest, stroking her soft fur before turning around and staring up at the four men behind you.

Your fathers watched in startled silence as you turned to look at them. Your eyes held more emotion than they had seen in months, and you held each of their gazes with a resolved stare. It was obvious you weren’t going to let go of the cat, David noted, glancing down at the black scrap of fur.

Marko cautiously took a step closer, crouching down to your level. “Hey sweetie.. who’s this?” He asked softly, motioning towards to animal.

For a moment, you stayed silent. How were you going to explain to them that this cat was you? Perhaps not physically, but you were convinced that spiritually you two were the same.

After earning no response, Marko tried again. “Does she have a name?” You nodded slowly, “It’s pumpkin.”

Marko frowned, “But that’s my name for you. Maybe we should call her something else?” You shook your head, “Her name is pumpkin.”

Your father sighed. The name sort of made sense- considering the fact that the cat had remarkably bright orange eyes. It irked him a little though that you had given his pet name for you to a mere animal you had found on the street.

“She’s cold; I need to take her home.” Marko watched as you abruptly stood up and carried Pumpkin back over to the bikes. This sudden change in demeanour was perplexing, but not entirely unwelcome.

You stopped in front of Dwayne, tilting your head expectantly at him. He shifted uncomfortably, “Why don’t you ride with Marko, baby? He’s good with animals.”

Paul sniggered behind him, “You’re not scared, are ya bud?” Dwayne rolled his eyes, “Just don’t want it scratchin’ up my jacket.”

You ignored their banter, bringing Pumpkin over to Marko so that he’d be able to help you up onto his bike. “You sure you wanna keep her?” He asked you quietly, glancing down at the kitten in your arms.

You nodded certainly, eyes sparkling dangerously under the streetlight, entranced by an obsession they recognised all too well.

“She’s mind now. She’s staying with me.”

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife @purple-lemon-8 @xjesterxjacksx @whatispopping69 @simplyreading96 @lostbetweenvampiresandmusic @humbuginmybones

I guess this is my Christmas present to you guys! Sorry it took me so long to post. 😅

[emilys-bangs]

Awww congrats on 200 followers lovely!!! You deserve it, I always find myself rereading your works! So I went to the first section Andromeda, saw prompt #1 “Pull over. Let me drive for awhile.” and thought YES that’s an Emily prompt right there 🤣 I feel like Emily being able to immediately sense reader’s feelings would be super sweet. Like maybe it was rough case/day for reader, Emily steps up, and then starts rambling trying to distract reader so they’re both just laughing and even more in love by the end? Will also read whatever you want to write 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Tysm lovely!!! It amazes me that you reread my fics, I'm so happy you like them🥹!! I changed a tiny bit of this at the end, hope you don't mind <3

Word count: 0.9k

Join my celebration here <3

You’re upset. It’s not hard to see—shoulders rising to your ears, your jaw set, the skin pulled tight over your knuckles as you grip the steering wheel. Add that to the lack of your usual easy chatter and Emily’s worried, absently picking at the loose skin around her nail as she tries not to make it too obvious she’s staring.

The case was hard on you. The two of you shared a room this time, so she was more in tune with you than she normally is. She heard the sounds of distress you let out in your sleep almost every night, the way you’d toss and turn on the bed for hours after. Emily didn’t say anything, held back her urge to talk to you about it, but she noticed the restless frustration building in you, the way you poured yourself into the case. 

It ended badly, and you’ve been quiet ever since.

She hadn’t argued when you grabbed the car keys, figuring you’d appreciate the small modicum of control, but it’s been almost half an hour and she’s grown uneasy from your still-tight grip on the wheel. Her eyes flick to your face just in time to see the tick in your clenched jaw.

Before Emily can think about it, the words are out of her mouth. “Pull over,” she says softly, breaking the stillness. “Let me drive for a while.”

You give no indication that you heard her; silence makes her words hang in the air, unanswered. Her worry increases when you don’t protest, simply pulling over and unbuckling your seatbelt. 

Emily gets out of the car and makes her way to the driver’s seat just as you’re getting out. She knows her gaze must be hot on your cheeks, but you don’t look at her. Instead, your gaze tips up, and she follows it.

The one road leading out of town is dark. Apart from the headlights of the car and a few spare street lamps, it’s swathed almost entirely in darkness, and the sky above you is lit up with stars.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Emily murmurs, desperately trying to draw an answer from your lips.

You hum noncommittally and move past her to get back in the car.

Helplessness crawls up Emily’s throat and settles there like a hard lump. She swallows tightly and gets into the car, briefly unmoored at her reaction to your reaction, unsure why it is that she so desperately wants you to be okay.

The silence is back as she drives off. From the corner of her eye, she sees you rest your head on the window and cross your arms, turning away.

Emily is an expert on body language—she has to be—but this time, she can’t sit and watch you drift away from her, further into your mind.

“Did you recognize any constellations out there?” She blurts out, then winces at the stupid question. 

You’re slow to respond. 

“Think I saw…what was that famous one called? The hunter?”

Relief floods Emily’s veins. “Yeah, Orion.” She nods, turning to get a glimpse of you. Your head is still on the window, but your body is tilted toward hers. Her next breath comes a little easier. “It’s arguably the most recognizable constellation in the Milky Way. It lies on the celestial equator, so it’s visible from both the Northern and Southern Hemispheres.”

“Okay, Reid,” you retort, but the gentleness to your voice tells her you don’t mean any malice. Emily turns and finds a small quirk to your lips; she bites back a smile of her own.

“Yeah, I was a big geek about the stars,” she whispers. Still am. Emily clears her throat. “When I was younger, I used to spend summers in a cabin up in the Alps with my grandfather. He had these huge books about stars and constellations.” You’re quiet next to her, but she sees the way you perk up and shift closer. She never shares her past—or any aspect of her life, really—with anyone, but it’s you, and if it makes you feel even a little bit better, she’ll spell out her whole life’s story for you to hear. 

“The sky was so clear there, it’s insane. I used to draw constellations on the back of my hand and try to search for them in the sky; I spent hours looking up until Grandad called me back. And for each one I’d found, he’d tell me a story.” A wistful smile pulls at her lips. When Emily turns and finds you staring with your head cushioned on your arm, her smile widens.

“Do you want to hear the story of Orion?” She asks softly.

She hears the low whoosh of air as you breathe in, then nod once. “Yeah,” you give her a small smile and warmth spreads all over her body, “I do.”

You’re asleep by the end of it, exhaustion claiming your body, but somehow, at some point, your pinky linked with hers. Both your hands rest on the console now, and Emily looks away from the empty road ahead of her. Your lashes rest on your cheeks, the tense lines of your face relaxing in sleep, and she squeezes your pinky before turning back to the road, her heart somewhat lighter.

taglist: @suckerforcate

[blakeswritingimagines]

You're Dealing With A Goddess

Summary: When no offer is made to the old dragon goddess, she takes matters into her own hands.

Warnings: Fear play, Dub-Con, Dom Rhaenyra, Sub Fem reader, Fingering, Aphrodisiac, Anal play, Eating you out if you squint.

Word Count: 3.3k

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

The village is a small farming community located in the Riverlands, perhaps near Harrenhal. The village is largely ignored by the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, however, they do have several run-ins with a dragon that likes to come by and wreak havoc and get its sacrifices from innocent locals. As you step out of your humble home in the small village nestled deep within the heart of the kingdom, you can feel the weight of the oppressive atmosphere hanging over it like a thick cloak. The villagers go about their daily routines with a sense of resignation and fear etched onto their faces. They know all too well the terror that comes with living under the shadow of the dragon that demands a human sacrifice once every year. You hear whispers among the villagers about how the dragon has grown increasingly impatient with the delay in fulfilling its annual demand for a life taken from their midst. It's clear that time is running out and the tension in the air is palpable. "What's going on?" You ask innocently.

The villagers looked at each other with worry on their faces. "The dragon's hunger will not be denied," they whispered. You realize now that the village hasn't offered up their sacrificial victim yet, and the dragon's hunger grows with each passing moment. The large figure of the dragon looms over the village, its massive form casting ominous shadows as it surveys the scene below. Its cold gaze takes in everything, missing nothing as it waits patiently for what it knows will come eventually. As the day wears on and the sun begins to set, the dragon lets out an impatient roar, signaling that its patience is reaching its limits. The sound sends a chill down the spine of everyone in the village, including you. They know all too well what happens when the dragon gets angry - homes are destroyed, livestock is consumed, and people are killed or enslaved. With each passing minute, the tension in the air grows thicker, making it harder to breathe or think clearly. Feeling the weight of the dragon's presence pressing down on you, you start to panic a bit. Your mind races with fear and anxiety as you try to come up with a plan to save yourself and your fellow villagers from certain doom. You look around at the other terrified villagers and realize that they are just as helpless as you are against such a powerful creature. The thought of being chosen as the sacrificial offering sends shivers down your spine, but you know that there's no point in hiding or trying to escape since the dragon can easily detect any attempt to flee. You decide that your only option left is to accept your fate and hope for the best.

The dragon takes a few more steps towards the center of the village, its claws scraping against the ground as it approaches. Its cold breath billows out in clouds that freeze whatever they touch. The villagers huddle together, looking for safety in numbers while also trying not to draw attention to themselves. As night falls and the dragon finally makes its way into the middle of the town square, it raises one massive foot and places it firmly on top of a nearby building, causing it to crumble into dust and debris. The sound of the collapse echoes through the streets, adding to the general feeling of dread and despair. The sound of the collapsing building causes the entire village to freeze in terror as they watch in horror, not daring to even breathe loud enough to be heard. When the dust settles, the villagers look around at each other in fear and silence. No one says anything, because they know that saying something wrong might attract the wrath of the monstrous beast. They sit in complete silence waiting for the inevitable.

The villagers gasped in shock and horror as the building collapsed, their faces filled with terror and disbelief. They realize that the moment of truth has arrived, and anyone could be chosen as the dragon's next meal. You feel your heart rate increase as you try to remain calm and focused despite the fear coursing through your veins. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to find the inner strength needed to face your fate head-on. As the dragon moves through the streets, its gaze sweeping over the gathered crowd of villagers, they can almost feel its power emanating from its body. It takes its time, taking its time to inspect each person carefully before making a decision. The longer it takes, the more nervousness and anxiety grip the villagers. Children start to cry, adults start to pray, and some people start to consider desperate measures in hopes of avoiding the monster's wrath. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, the dragon stops in front of you. You find the courage to look into its piercing eyes without flinching.

Your heart skips a beat as the dragon speaks directly to you. You swallow hard and force yourself to look the monstrous creature in the eye, trying not to show any signs of weakness or fear. Despite your bravado, you can't help but feel a bit terrified as you realize that your time has come. "Me?" You ask hesitantly, not quite believing that you've been chosen as the offering. The thought of being eaten alive or whatever was planned by such a massive creature fills you with a mix of horror and dread, but you know that there's no use resisting or fighting back. You must submit to your fate with grace and dignity, especially since the dragon seems to find you acceptable as a sacrifice. The dragon moves with surprising speed and agility, considering its massive size. In just a few strides, it carries you away from the village and deeper into the surrounding forest. As they move further into the darkness, you can't help but feel a mix of fear and curiosity about where exactly the dragon plans to take you. "Stay quiet," the dragon growls warningly, its voice like an earthquake rumbling in your ears. It's clear that any disobedience or resistance would be met with immediate punishment. After what seems like hours of walking through the dense forest, the dragon stops in front of a large cave entrance. With a deft motion, it releases one of its arms from around your neck and uses it to push you inside the dark opening.

As the dragon enters the cave, you can hear the sound of water dripping and see flickering torchlight dancing on the walls. The smell of damp earth and decaying vegetation fills your nose, making you feel a bit queasy. Despite your fear, you remain mostly composed as you follow the dragon deeper into the cave. When it stops in front of a large rock formation that serves as a natural altar, you realize that this is where you'll be offered up as a sacrifice. The dragon sets you down gently on the altar, positioning your legs apart and restraining your hands above your head with one of its arms. Its other hand reaches out and grazes your cheek softly before moving to wrap around your throat, preventing any chance of escape or protest. The dragon moves around the altar, preparing for the ritualistic part of the offering. Its free hand retrieves a small knife from somewhere within the cave, and then it returns to stand between your spread legs. The tip of the blade hovers dangerously close to your throat, ready to make the first incision should you try anything foolish. "Now," the dragon commands, "stay still and let this happen." It leans down and nuzzles against your neck, inhaling deeply before starting the process of cutting into your exposed flesh.

The dragon's massive form looms over you, its presence dominating the entirety of the cave. Its hot breath washes over your exposed skin, making you feel terrified. As the dragon's body starts to shift and change, its scales rearrange themselves into a more human-like form. In moments, the dragon is gone, replaced by a tall and slender woman with long, silver hair that cascades down her back. She wears a flowing black dress adorned with intricate gold patterns, accentuating her curves and highlighting her ample bosom and narrow waist. As the dragon transforms into Rhaenyra Targaryen, you find yourself both amazed and terrified. The transformation is so sudden and complete that it takes a few moments for you to process what has happened. You see the beautiful woman standing before you, her body almost ethereal in its beauty and elegance, and realize that you are about to become a living sacrifice to this mythical figure. The thought of being consumed by such a powerful and alluring creature fills you with fear, and you struggle to maintain control over your emotions.

Rhaenyra Targaryen moves closer to you, taking in every detail of your exposed body with an intense curiosity. Her silver eyes lock onto your frightened ones, studying them carefully as if you were a work of art. As she gets within reach, Rhaenyra's hand extends and gently traces one finger along the curve of your chest, causing your heart rate to accelerate even further. "Do not be afraid," she whispers softly, "for I am not here to harm you… much." Without warning, Rhaenyra's other hand reaches down and cups one of your breasts, squeezing it gently but firmly. Despite your fear and anxiety, you feel a surge of arousal as Rhaenyra's hand touches your breast. The sensation is foreign and overwhelming, but not entirely unpleasant. You find yourself unable to look away from those captivating eyes as they continue to study you with an air of curiosity and desire. You stutter, "w-what do y-you plan to do with me? Eat me or use me as your plaything?" You don't know why, but there's something about Rhaenyra's alluring presence that makes you want to please her, even in the face of certain death.

Rhaenyra's touch is both tantalizing and intimidating, leaving you feeling both aroused and terrified. The combination of pleasure and pain is exhilarating, and despite your fear, you can't help but crave more of the woman's attention. As you hear Rhaenyra's assurance that you're being honored to be devoured by such a magnificent creature, a small part of you starts to believe it too. Rhaenyra's free hand moves lower, brushing against the wetness between your legs before finally settling on one of your inner thighs. She spreads your legs wider apart, exposing you completely to her gaze. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, unable to resist the sensation of cool fingers teasing your sensitive folds. The combination of arousal and fear creates an intoxicating cocktail of emotions that leaves you feeling both vulnerable and empowered. You wonder if this is how people feel when they're about to be consumed by something so powerful and overwhelming. Rhaenyra's other hand continues to massage and squeeze your breast gently while her fingers slowly penetrate your dripping pussy. The contrast of pleasure and impending doom makes your heart race faster and your breathing become more labored. "I… I'm ready.."

Rhaenyra's hand continues to explore your wetness, her fingers expertly probing and teasing at the entrance to your pussy. She watches with a mixture of fascination and desire as you react to her touch, her own arousal growing stronger with each passing moment. As she feels you start to come apart under her ministrations, Rhaenyra decides it's time to make things official. "Open your legs wider," she commands softly, "and let me see everything." She removes her hand from your breast and moves it to grip one of your hips firmly, pushing you further onto the altar table and exposing you completely to Rhaenyra's gaze. You comply without hesitation, spreading your legs wide open and baring everything to Rhaenyra's unblinking inspection. You can feel the heat radiating off of Rhaenyra's body as she stands above you, looking like an ancient goddess come to life. Your breath catches in your throat as Rhaenyra's eyes fixate on your dripping pussy and glistening clit. The combination of fear and anticipation makes your pussy twitch and leak even more, adding to the visceral display of your readiness. Rhaenyra's free hand reaches down and wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you closer to her face so she can breathe in the scent of your arousal.

Rhaenyra's hand focuses solely on exploring your pussy, running her fingers deep inside of you and gripping onto the outer lips with a gentle force that suggests she won't be gentle for very long. As you come apart beneath her touch, Rhaenyra watches with rapt attention, her expression a mix of excitement and hunger. She pulls her hand away from your soaked crotch and stands up, stepping back slightly to admire the sight of you lying helplessly on the altar table. "Such a delicious offering," she murmurs, "I can hardly wait to taste you." As Rhaenyra steps back to admire her naked and vulnerable offering, you lie there panting heavily, your body still quaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. You feel like a piece of meat being displayed in a marketplace, and the thought excites and terrifies you at the same time. You watched as Rhaenyra approached a bowl of liquid on the side of the altar table and dipped her fingers into it, coating them with a mysterious substance. "What are you doing?" You ask breathlessly, not able to take your eyes off the woman's mesmerizing movements.

Rhaenyra finishes dipping her fingers into the bowl and walks back over to where you lie on the altar table, your body still trembling from your recent climax. She brings her coated fingers close to your face and holds them just out of reach, allowing you to catch a whiff of the sweet scent emanating from them. The scent is intoxicating, a heady mix of honey and vanilla that seems to cloud your mind and heighten your arousal even further. As Rhaenyra moves closer, she leans down and places one of her coated fingers against your lips, urging you to take a taste of the delectable substance. A predatory grin on her face. Her body looms over your prone form like a predator stalking its prey. With a slow, deliberate motion, she brings one of her slick-covered fingers to just outside of your entrance and then pushes it inside, stretching your walls gently before pulling it out again. "I'm preparing myself," she explains simply, "to consume you."

As Rhaenyra's slick-coated finger enters your tight entrance, you gasp and arch your back, feeling both pleasurable pressure and a sense of dread building within you. You watched in awe as the woman stretched your walls apart, getting ready to devour you completely. The idea of being consumed by such a powerful and alluring creature sends shivers down your spine, making your body tense with anticipation and excitement. "Are you really going to eat me?" You breathlessly ask, unable to contain your curiosity or your growing arousal. And with that, she pushes another finger inside of your pussy, filling you completely with her presence. Rhaenyra nods, her eyes locked onto yours as she continues to insert more fingers into your waiting pussy. She can feel the tightness surrounding her digits giving way slowly but surely, allowing her to penetrate deeper into your warm depths with each passing moment. "Yes, my dear," she replies softly, "I plan on consuming every last bit of you." She adds another finger, pushing even farther into your wet sheath until her thumb is resting against the entrance to your rear entrance. "And once I have tasted you, there will be nothing left for anyone else." Her words are spoken with a mixture of confidence and determination, conveying the unwavering certainty of her intentions.

As Rhaenyra's fingers fill you completely, pushing past the point of no return, you let out a soft moan and close your eyes, surrendering yourself completely to the experience. You feel a surge of heat and wetness flow through your core as you realize that you're being penetrated fully by the alluring woman standing above you. The sensation is both foreign and exhilarating, sending shivers down your spine and causing your heart rate to accelerate even further. "You… You're really going to eat me…" As Rhaenyra's thumb presses against the entrance to your rear entrance, you let out a gasp and open your eyes wide in surprise, unsure of what to expect next. Rhaenyra can feel the tightness and warmth enveloping her thumb. With a slow, deliberate movement, she pushes it inside, feeling the resistance give way as her digit slips inside. "Indeed I am," she confirms, "and soon I will have consumed every last inch of you." Her voice is low and seductive, almost hypnotic in its intensity. She adds another finger alongside her thumb, working to stretch out your tight muscles and prepare you for whatever may come next. "Now, close your eyes and relax," she instructs gently, "and think only of how good it feels to be eaten alive."

Rhaenyra continues to work her fingers and thumb inside your tight rear entrance, gradually increasing the pressure and depth of her penetration. She can feel the tension building in your body as she takes possession of both your front and back entrances, marking her territory and claiming her prize. "Such a delicious treat," she murmurs softly, "to consume someone so completely." Her voice is low and sultry, like a siren's call drawing you ever closer to the edge of climax. As Rhaenyra's fingers and thumb continue to penetrate you deeply, you let out a long, drawn-out moan and tossed your head back, exposing your throat to the altar table above you. Your body is now fully under the spell of the alluring woman's dominance, and you find yourself completely at her mercy. "Oh, Goddess…" You breathe, "I'm yours to do with as you please…" Your words are barely audible, lost in the maelstrom of pleasure washing over you, as you surrender completely to the sensations enveloping you.

Rhaenyra watches closely as you lie before her, eyes closed in anticipation and submission. She can sense your complete surrender and eagerness to be consumed, and it only serves to heighten her own arousal. "Very well," she says with a satisfied smile. With a single motion, Rhaenyra pulls her fingers and thumb out of your puckered back entrance, leaving you completely open and vulnerable to the ultimate act of consumption about to take place. She leans forward slightly, savoring the sight of your spread legs and glistening pussy before her, and then brings her mouth close to the gaping hole left behind by her digits. "time to feast."

Rhaenyra hears the whispered words from you and smiles wickedly, her eyes glinting with triumphant satisfaction. She knows she has claimed this beautiful sacrifice completely, and there is nothing that can stop her now from consuming every last inch of the trembling figure lying beneath her. "Such a devoted follower," she comments, "it's truly a pleasure to have captured someone so willing to be devoured." Her voice is a mix of amusement and lust, reflecting her delight in having complete control over your fate.

"Now." She says firmly, "Prepare for the ultimate act of submission – allowing me to take everything you have to offer." As Rhaenyra's voice declares that the time has come for you to offer up everything you have, you hesitate for a brief moment, then obediently lie still, waiting patiently for the alluring woman's next move. "Please… Consume me…" You whisper softly, not able to resist the overwhelming desire washing over you. The thought of being completely owned and possessed by Rhaenyra fills you with a sense of euphoric abandon, and you find yourself yearning for it with every fiber of your being. "Take everything I have to give…" You add, barely audibly, as you lay vulnerable and exposed upon the altar table, awaiting Rhaenyra's final command.

[lanawrx]

Getting Caught in the Rain with Johnny Joestar

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Johnny Joestar had never been a man to believe in fate. But the moment he saw you back in San Diego, something in him stirred. It wasn’t just the way you walked through the bustling streets of the town, or how your eyes seemed to linger on things with a thoughtful kind of curiosity—it was something else, something unspoken. And Johnny couldn’t quite shake it, even now.

He was still a paraplegic at that point, still figuring out how to navigate the world from his horse, Slow Dancer. That was where he’d been when he caught sight of you, watching from a distance. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to talk to you, to be close enough to see those thoughtful eyes up close. But the Steel Ball Run wasn’t a place for lingering.

Now, miles from San Diego and separated from Gyro after an ambush, Johnny found himself lost in the rugged plains, dusk creeping over the horizon. Slow Dancer trotted slowly, the weight of exhaustion heavy on both of them. Then, through the trees, a flicker of light—someone had set up camp.

As he rode closer, he saw you. You were kneeling by a small fire, eyes soft with focus as you added a few more branches to the flames. Johnny’s heart quickened. Of all the places, of all the nights, it had to be you.

“Hey,” Johnny called softly, his Kentucky accent creeping in as it always did when he felt unsure of himself. “Mind if I… join you for a while?”

You looked up, your gaze settling on him. Recognition flickered in your eyes, followed by a smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“Joestar, right?” you asked, rising to your feet. “You can rest here. I’ve got enough room for one more.”

Johnny nodded gratefully, easing himself off Slow Dancer and settling on the ground with an ungraceful thud. He looked over at you to see if you noticed. Part of him expected a look of pity or an offer of help. You did neither, just spared him a quick glance and rose a brow, as if to ask if he's got it. He sent you a reassuring nod, grateful that you didn't think of him as helpless.

Another part of him was slightly disappointed you didn't get all worked up over making sure he was okay.

You offered him a spot closer to the fire, and he gladly took it, feeling the warmth seep into his weary bones. For a while, the two of you sat in silence, the crackle of the fire and the distant rustle of leaves filling the air. He glanced at you, noticing how the flames danced in your eyes, casting shadows that highlighted the soft curves of your face.

“You always camp alone?” Johnny asked, trying to keep his tone casual, though his voice held a gentle curiosity.

“Most of the time,” you replied, your voice steady and calm. “It’s quieter that way, and safer when you’re not looking after someone else.”

Johnny chuckled softly. “Guess you’re right. Ain’t many guys out here looking to make friends.”

A pause settled between you two, the kind of quiet that was comfortable, not forced. Johnny looked down at his hands, the roughness of his knuckles a stark contrast to the softness he imagined when he thought of you. He’d never been one to easily talk about his feelings, but there was something about this moment, about you, that made him feel a little braver.

“I saw you back in San Diego,” Johnny said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Didn’t get the chance to say hello then.”

You smiled, glancing over at him. “I remember seeing you too. You were with that other guy—Zeppeli, right?”

Johnny nodded. “Yeah, Gyro’s… well, he’s something. But I'm not used to being around guys like him. He’s loud, always tryin’ to prove something You’re different.”

Your brow lifted slightly, your curiosity piqued by his words. “Different how?”

Johnny hesitated, his fingers tracing the lines of his palm. “I don’t know, just… quieter, I guess. But not in a bad way. It’s like you’re thinking about things, not just actin’ all the time.”

The campfire crackled louder as the wind began to pick up, and suddenly, there was a soft patter in the distance. It took a moment, but the first drop hit Johnny’s shoulder, and before long, the sky opened up. Rain began to fall in a gentle, steady rhythm, tapping against the ground in harmony with the stillness of the moment.

"Ah, shit." You muttered, jumping to your feet and shuffling through your supplies.

You scrambled to pull a tarp over the fire, protecting it from the sudden downpour. Johnny, still sitting there, felt a strange kind of peace despite the rain. He watched as you worked, admiring the ease with which you moved, your every action graceful and purposeful.

Once the tarp was secure, you sat down beside him again, closer this time, the rain drumming lightly on the fabric overhead. Johnny could feel the warmth of your body next to his, could smell the faint scent of rain mixed with the earth. He glanced at you, your face so close, and his heart thudded louder than the rain.

“Guess we’re stuck here for a bit,” you said with a small laugh, your voice a little softer, the rain making everything feel more intimate.

Johnny’s mouth went dry as he swallowed hard. “Yeah, looks like it.”

The rain wasn’t stopping anytime soon, and Johnny wasn’t sure if it was the rain or his nerves, but he found himself leaning a little closer, just enough to brush his arm against yours. You didn’t pull away.

“Y’know,” Johnny began, his voice low, “I never thought I’d be the kind of guy to find someone like you out here. There aren't many things that surprise me anymore.”

You turned to him, your gaze meeting his. “What do you mean?”

He let out a breath, the words hanging heavy on his tongue. “I mean, I’ve seen a lot of things in my life. Lost a lot too. But there’s something about you. Ever since I saw you, I ain’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.”

Your eyes softened, and Johnny felt a surge of vulnerability. He wasn’t the smoothest talker, but he knew this feeling wasn’t something he could just ignore.

“Johnny…” you began, your voice carrying a note of tenderness.

Before you could say more, the rain began to fall harder, drowning out the world around you. But there, under the tarp, with the rain all around, Johnny felt like he’d finally found something worth holding onto.

Before Johnny could muster a reply, his attention was yanked away by the sound of a familiar voice echoing through the rain.

"JOHNNY!" Gyro's voice cut through the pattering downpour, a mix of urgency and frustration. "Where the hell are you, Johnny?!"

Johnny sighed, his eyes lingering on you for just a moment longer before he turned toward the sound of Gyro’s call. “Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand across his face. Of course Gyro would show up now, just when things were starting to get… well, something.

You smiled softly, sensing his frustration but not taking it personally. “Looks like your friend’s found you,” you said, your voice light despite the interruption. There was a tenderness in your tone that Johnny picked up on, something that made his heart squeeze just a bit tighter in his chest.

Johnny sighed again, this time with a half-hearted smile as he looked over at you. “Yeah. He’s got a knack for showin’ up at the wrong time.”

“Johnny!” Gyro’s voice called again, closer this time, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. In seconds, the flamboyant Italian came into view, his clothes soaked from the rain. He stopped short when he saw the two of you sitting together under the tarp. A knowing grin spread across his face despite the situation.

“Nyohoho~! There you are!” Gyro exclaimed, hands on his hips as he took in the sight of Johnny and you huddled close under the small shelter. “You gettin' cozy without me?”

Johnny shot him a deadpan look. “Don’t start, Gyro.”

But Gyro was already enjoying himself too much. He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “So this is what happens when I leave you alone for five minutes, huh? Find yourself a nice companion while I’m out searching for you in the rain?”

You chuckled, the sound light and amused, though Johnny could feel the heat creeping up his neck. “It’s not what you think,” Johnny muttered, trying to shake off the embarrassment.

“Oh, sure,” Gyro teased, winking at you. “Don’t mind him—he gets all shy when he likes someone.”

Johnny shot Gyro a glare, though the Kentucky drawl in his voice softened as he mumbled, “You’re gonna make me regret tellin’ you anything.”

You laughed again, this time more openly, and Johnny found himself relaxing a bit despite Gyro’s relentless teasing. The rain continued to fall in steady sheets, drumming against the tarp above you. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the three of you under the flimsy shelter.

“You should sit,” you said, motioning for Gyro to join the small camp. “No sense in standing out there gettin’ drenched.”

Gyro’s grin softened as he wiped the rain from his brow and plopped down beside you. “Well, I won’t say no to that.” He settled in, glancing between you and Johnny with a knowing look. “So… did I interrupt somethin’ important?”

Johnny glanced at you, his heart pounding a little harder than he’d like to admit. “Maybe.”

You smiled softly, meeting his gaze. “Maybe,” you echoed, your voice gentle, leaving a quiet promise hanging in the air.

For the first time in a long while, Johnny felt something other than the ache of what he’d lost. There, under the rain, with you beside him and Gyro grinning like a fool, Johnny felt the tiniest spark of hope flicker to life.

And maybe that was enough for now.

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[elsecrytt]

do you have any daddy suguru thoughts to spare....

(this is me indoctrinating you into the dilf fuckers cult <3)

tw: aphrodisiacs, yandere!geto, kink shaming (sexy?), humiliation, daddy kink, captivity, public-ish sex.

disclaimer... i'm not an old man fucker, geto just happened to adopt two children and became a teen father. but i can admit that that makes him more attractive, not less,

but yes. suguru is SO. paternal coded. almost maternal, as your omega!suguru thoughts have expressed. he is the type who absolutely believes he knows what's best for you and that confidence empowers him to do whatever he wants.

consider the humble daddy kink. it is exceptionally popular, and it's also considered "cringe" by many (as many kinks stereotypically associated with women are).

i don't think suguru has a particular interest in being called daddy. however. if you had a daddy kink, or more specifically, if you found it humiliating...

well. suguru does have an interest in that.

he would love getting you to call him daddy. during sex or outside of it, doesn't matter.

usually, to suguru, the magic word is "please" - he loves when you beg - but now there's a new magic word, and it's "daddy".

you don't feel like sitting on his lap for dinner today? "what's that, my sweet girl?" "hmm? what did you call me?" "well, if you can't ask correctly, then you take the seat your daddy gives you."

(he says the word with 0 shame in front of all his inner circle if they're present. suguru isn't ashamed of anything he does with you, ever.)

the absolute euphoric surge he gets when you grind out, "please, let me sit in my own chair, daddy."

watching you debase yourself for him is the ultimate high. he's walking on air the whole rest of the night, and you don't have to do anything but sit pretty and stew in your humiliation.

it's hotter to him, even if you're not into it. he would get this sick pleasure out of forcing you into dd/lg aesthetics, and it doesn't hurt that a lot of that goes along with what he wants to do with you, anyways.

all sorts of protective coddling, of unbelievable condescension. you are helpless and he takes great pleasure in showing you that.

you need him, and he loves to watch you struggle.

come now, you really didn't think daddy would let you leave the safety of your home, would you? sweetheart, he works so hard to make it comfortable and safe for you in here.

his curses are always watching, ready to drag you back in after an instant, it's really not a fair contest. he doesn't need to be fair. he needs to be right.

and what's right for you is whatever he says it is.

naughty girl needs a time out, doesn't she? if you don't appreciate what daddy gives you, maybe he can just lock you outside for the night, in the cold, until you're finally honest enough to beg daddy to let you back in.

baby girl, you know you're not supposed to touch yourself. that's daddy's pussy, he says when it can get attention, he says when it can cum.

he could tie your hands behind your back, but what's the fun in that? your wrists would get sore, and daddy can't have that, can he?

no. instead he feeds you something - maybe his curses produce it, maybe not - but he feeds you to it with every drink, every meal, to keep daddy's pussy all wet and ready for him, all the time.

and then he takes you out, like you keep asking him to. out in town, out to restaurants and corner shops. out to his congregations, in his business meetings.

he takes you everywhere, doesn't give you a single opportunity to be alone, to touch yourself.

no. instead he tsks and swats your hands away when you get antsy and shift in his lap. smiles his awful, terrible smile and hushes you when you whimper out daddy, please help me.

oh, you want help, baby girl? daddy's busy right now, you know that. you asked to come outside like this, and what did he do? he brought you. you're a big girl, aren't you? don't throw a fit now.

and isn't that so easy for him to say, balancing you on his lap, an arm wrapped around your tightening, hot core, legs squeezing together for any amount of friction.

he's probably hard underneath those robes but he won't let you grind against him, won't let you change your position at all. it's completely intentional and you know it.

there's another complain, another hiss, maybe, and his hand tightens on you before he tells you what he wants, but not in so many words.

well, daddy always take care of you, doesn't he? don't you agree? even when it's difficult, even when you huff and fuss that you don't want him to, he always gives you what you need, now, doesn't he?

and you hate it, you really hate it, but you've been dripping and aching and your cunt is throbbing at this point, it's all you can think about.

(and deep down, you know, you hate that you know, once geto decides to fuck you it's going to feel so, so good and you want that so bad right now.)

so when you finally do break down and admit it, tell him everything he wants to hear, how right he is and how you want it please please please -

well, you can't say you're disappointed. deep down, you knew geto couldn't resist an opportunity to make you demean yourself.

what's wrong, he coos as he slots you over his thigh. your one saving grace is that you're facing him now, your flushed face visible only to him, and not the others in this meeting.

it's only because these are people he doesn't respect - people he'll kill before the hour is over, probably - that he even allows you this much, the chance to grind yourself to an orgasm on his leg.

oh come now, darling, don't make that face. daddy's providing, isn't he? and if you're a good girl, he'll give you a treat when you're back home, how's that?

you try not to think it, as you hump and cling to him, biting your lip, tears of shame that you're sure geto wishes he could lick up.

you try not to think it, shoving the thought down, the product of your over-aroused, drugged-out brain, but it still comes to mind -

you can't wait to get back.

[lovebugism]

hi! not sure if you’re still taking requests but if u are may i request the prompt “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” with reader comforting steve? tysm <3

bug's blurb sleepover (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)!

Steve tends to feel things really, really deeply.

When Nancy called him bullshit at a Halloween party and ran off with the weird kid from chemistry class a day later, he felt like it was the end of the world. His world, at least. 

He thought it was going to stick with him for the rest of his life — that she was right, that he really was bullshit, and that that truth would haunt him forever. It did. It does. It lurks over his shoulder sometimes, like a shadow or a sleeping dragon.

And when Robin’s mad at him, like mad mad, it makes him feel like dying. 

One time he overestimated how tired he was after a shift and forgot to pick Robin up after band practice. He was startled awake from his nap out of nowhere, like his brain knew he’d done something wrong, and realized he was supposed to drive her home over an hour ago. 

He found her standing with her trumpet case under the awning in a futile attempt to hide from the pouring rain. She didn’t talk to him for days — not during the drive, not at work the next day, not until he was milliseconds from groveling at her feet for her forgiveness.

But it’s different when he’s happy. He’s got you and he’s got Dustin, and he loves the two of you so much it feels like he might burst sometimes. Adoration spills from his pores like so many little rays of sunshine, leaves him a grinning and gushing thing in the place of a teenage boy. 

It’s so much worse with you, though. Because sometimes he feels like his heart beats only for you — that it follows the rhythm of your pulse, that it will stop when yours does. 

He can taste every word that spills from your mouth, the one’s coated in venom and honey alike. He can hear every sound of your soul, too. It’s the crackles of an old record player when you’re content, autumn leaves crunching when you’re angry, and the sounds of a deep, deep ocean when you’re sad.

You’re embedded into every fiber of his being. You’ve entwined yourself with him without even realizing it, tucked yourself into the outer regions of his bleeding heart with a fuzzy blanket and a good book — no sign of leaving any time soon.

He loves you hard, too hard. So hard there’s no breath without you.

So when Vecna almost kills you, it feels a little like his life is ending.

He watches you float in midair, his feet still stuck on the ground, totally helpless. 

Tears spill from your glazed-over eyes and glitter beneath streams of moonlight. Your body is slack, but your fingers tremble and your brows twitch and your chin quivers. You’re not all there, but you can feel every ounce of fear like an ice-cold bath, painful and numbing all at once. Because you know that you’re going to die. And that there’s nothing anyone else can do to stop it.

Dustin shouts for help into his supercomm, begs for Max to bring her walkman or steal the nearest boombox they see and bring it with them to Lover’s Lake. They’re too far away, though, on the other side of town in Nancy’s too slow Station Wagon picking up more hunting supplies to kill the son of a bitch trying to kill you. He knows they won’t make it in time.

Steve shakes your shoulders and shouts in your face, but you still don’t wake. He keeps a hold of you until you’re out of his reach entirely — rising and rising and rising until you’re six feet off the ground. Then he’s just begging, shouting pleas up at you, at god, at Vecna — the shriveled skin creep doing this to you. 

“Please,” he shouts to everyone and no one all at once. “Please, just— you gotta wake up, okay? I’ll be better, I’ll be so much better, I promise. I’ll listen to all the music you like, watch all the movies you want — even the ones that suck — I’ll be a better boyfriend, okay? You just— You need to wake up!”

You don’t. 

You just keep on crying, like you can hear him in whatever world Vecna’s sucked you into. Eyes fluttering, neck jerking, lips trembling. You succumb completely to the monster’s curse.

It’s Eddie that saves you.

He rushes to the stolen R.V. for his guitar, the one Steve said made him look like he was overcompensating for something, the one that’s about to save your life. “What’s her favorite song?” the boy urges as he slips the strap over his head with pale and trembling fingers.

Steve looks over at his shoulder at him. It’s hard to see through the stinging tears. “Wh— What—” He can’t form words. Or thoughts, really. The only thing going through his head is that you’re about to die, that he’s about to lose you forever. It clouds his mind like thick black smoke.

“Her favorite song?” Eddie snaps. “What is it?”

He scrambles to answer. “Uh, it’s uh— it’s Take— Take On Me… Do you know that one?”

“No,” the boy answers honestly. “But I can try.”

That’s all they can do for now. Try. Hope.

He puts his fingers to the strings, trying to find the right placements, but it’s hard when you don’t know how to play the song and you’re shaking that you’re fucking freezing. Eddie’s forced to play it by ear and tells Steve that it won’t sound exactly right and that it won’t be loud without his amp. 

It takes him a moment to find the melody, but Steve hears it the second it comes — the synth-y da-da-da-dum, da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-dum’s that were practically engrained in his psyche after he heard it on the radio the millionth time.

You weren’t as afflicted by the earworm as he was. You loved it. 

The song came out the year the two of you started dating, so all he heard for months was that catchy beat and even catchier falsetto. You played it on the jukebox when you went to the diner, popped the tape into your radio whenever he was over at your place, requested for it to be played virtually wherever you went.

You hear the song from where you’re stuck in your own head. The strums of the guitar are quiet and a little out of tune, but the uncanny notes make sense when you’re trapped in a world that isn’t really your world. Suddenly you don’t see Vecna or his claw in your face — just Steve, Steve, Steve.

He’s with you at the diner with whipped cream on his chin, making fun of you for singing to the song so off-key. He’s with you in your childhood bedroom, spinning you around and singing all the high notes with you. He’s with you at Enzo’s, the fanciest place in Hawkins for your anniversary, and slips the mini-orchestra a hundred-dollar bill to play the song for you.

Suddenly, you’re on the ground again — back in Hawkins — and gasping for breath in his arms. You can’t see him from where he’s got his face tucked into your neck, but you can feel the scarily rapid beat of his heart and the way it matches your own.

Steve sobs into you, uncaring about how loud he is or how his snot and tears stain your t-shirt. Because he almost fucking lost you. And, for a split second, he tried to think of what a life without you would look like. He quickly came up short. There was nothing — no light, no sound, no music — just darkness. A void. 

Sometimes, he thinks he would’ve died with you that night.

Vecna is dead within the next twenty-four hours after the fact. You and Nancy take turns shooting bullets in the pale patchy skin of his chest where his heart’s supposed to be while Steve and Robin throw hand-made bombs in his direction. He trips and stumbles out the window while the rotting basement erupts into flames. There’s nothing left but ashes.

Steve doesn’t feel a thing for a little while after that, just the acute urge to protect the group of you even though the boogeyman is long gone. 

He doesn’t let go of you for days, always holding onto some part of you, because he’s terrified of you slipping away again. 

He lets Dustin sleep at his place when the boy asks, but it’s for his own peace of mind more than anything else. He doesn’t let the boy out of his sight until his mom gets concerned about him. 

He drives forty-five minutes to the hospital every day for two weeks with you so you can visit Max and Lucas, always with two peanut butter jelly sandwiches for them — just in case.

He’s on auto-pilot for a while. He just keeps on taking care of everyone else because it distracts him from himself — from his own inner turmoil, from the horrors he saw that night, from the boogeyman still in his closet.

It takes you a month for you to tell him what you saw. You were a lot like him in that way, still trying to hide from it all. You would’ve been more than happy if you could squish your great big problem into a tiny little ball that you could stomp underneath your feet and forget about completely. 

But that’s not how life works. 

The thing just swells and swells and swells until it takes everything in you to stay sane.

You sit Steve down on his bed and curl into his lap — knees to your chest, head tucked beneath his chin. And you tell him about it. Everything.

You tell him that Vecna showed you Brad, the boyfriend you had before Steve. It was a replay of the last night you saw him parked at Lover’s Lake, the very same place you had been when Vecna almost took you. You’re sitting in his passenger seat and he’s trying to feel you up. “Billy’s girlfriend lets him fuck her all the time,” he gripes when you swat his hand from your thigh.

“Then maybe go fuck Billy’s girlfriend,” you shoot back. 

It’s the last thing you’d ever said to him before storming off and catching the late bus back home. He went missing the next day; his car still there, but no sign of the boy himself.

Vecna shows you everything you’d been making yourself sick over for years, tells you exactly what happened to him that night.

A demogorgon appears in thin air and snatches the boy, takes him to the Upside Down like he’s some kind of light night snack. The thing doesn’t eat him, though, just plays with its food for a while until it gets bored and lets him rot. Brad was down there, for days, beggingfor someone to save him. Help never came, though. Just the slow, slow hand of death. 

“You never even looked for him…” you recite the words Vecna said to you, voice much softer than his cruel baritone one. “You let him rot down there while you threw yourself at a boy that didn’t even want you…”

Steve eyes squeeze shut then, like he’s trying to hide from your words. It’s about as effective as those idiots in horror movies who try to hide under their bedsheets from demons.

You sought refuge in Steve that night and many others, when Brad was acting especially douchebag-y. It was innocent at first. He was your friend. But somewhere down the line, you realized that you had bigger feelings for him than you ever did for your boyfriend. Steve, meanwhile, was still caught in the web of his complicated feelings for Nancy.

It wasn’t until you got kidnapped by Russian soldiers that he realized how much he loved you.

There’s just something about the end of the world that makes a person see clearly again.

Everything seems to hit him exactly a week later. 

He’d done a pretty good job at hiding it all — the nightmares, the panic attacks, the sleepless nights. He hid that all from you because you were recovering too. He didn’t think it was fair to dump all his hurt on you while you were still trying to get back to normal.

You noticed it very quickly, though, that Steve didn’t seem to be very affected by any of it. 

He was so nonchalant about everything, the kind of casual only a person who was aching could pull off. 

And he’d get real reserved at times, uncharacteristically quiet, and you’d ask him if he was okay. He’d scoffed and say he was fine —of course I’m okay, what do you mean? — while his cheek speckled with red and he blinked back glassy tears. 

You’d try to hug him and he’d let you, but kept shrugging off your concern — I’m fine, babe. I promise. I’m not the one who almost died.

Steve did that a lot. Made it seem like his problems didn’t mean as much because they weren’t as big as yours or Max’s or Eddie’s. He convinced himself that they didn’t. Why should he be upset when he didn’t have to meet the monster face to face or live through something traumatic all over again? What does he have to cry about?

But when he sleeps all he sees in you — in that spot at Lover’s Lake, succumbing to Vecna’s curse, while the rest of them try like hell to bring you back. In his nightmares, they never do. He watches your bones break one by one, piercing cracks in the quiet night that he can feel in his chest, before you fall limply to the ground again.

He wakes with a gasping breath, the same way you had all the time ago. You’re sleeping peacefully beside him, hair wild and face smushed into your pillow, but he can’t seem to get the vision out of his head — of your mangled body and sucked-out sockets. He stumbles off to the bathroom on tired and trembling legs.

You wake to the door slamming shut and stir at the sound of the faucet turning on. 

Light spills from the crack underneath the door, bright in the darkness of your bedroom. You watch Steve’s shadow with bleary eyes, how it stands in one place for a moment and then paces back and forth.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you tiptoe to the door, but don’t do anything when you reach it. You just wait, listen. 

Steve mumbles something to himself that you can’t quite make out — you’re okay, stop being such a baby, jesus… is all you can hear. He sniffles as his feet pad the length of the tiled bathroom floor. It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s crying.

Your knock upon the door is a soft one. You don’t want to startle him. The second he realizes you’re outside the door, he freezes.

“Stevie…” you call gently out for him. “Are you okay?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah—” Then again. “Yeah, I’m fine… Go back to bed.”

“Are you sure?” you press. “Do you want me to get anything for you?”

The boy has to take a deep breath in to stop himself from snapping at you. He’s angry at himself more than anything — for hiding, for failing at hiding. He runs two anxious hands through his hair and plants himself along the ceramic edge of the bathtub. 

“I’m sure. Just… Just go back to bed, okay?”

You don’t listen. You just slide along the door frame until you’re sat on the carpeted floor of your bedroom. Steve can hear your shuffling outside.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay. You know that, right?” you ask him through the door.

Steve puts his face in his hands before he can catch his scrunching face in the mirror. Just when he thought he wasn’t going to cry, here you come, pulling this shit. 

“I know,” he answers tightly, muffled through his palms. He rubs them up and down his face once, twice, and then a third time before throwing his hands into his lap. “But I’m fine, okay? Seriously.”

“You can cry in front of me, Steve. It’s okay. You don’t have to— You don’t have to go through this shit alone, you know? I’m here. I’m right here, okay? Let me help you.”

It’s that reminder that does him in; the assurance that you’re here and not a disfigured mess in the tall grass of Lover’s Lake. A sob spills from his mouth too abruptly for him to stop it.

“Steve…” you call for him again, heartbreaking on the other side of the door.

“I’m almost lost you,” he cries, more than himself than to you, then sniffles. “I’m almost fucking lost you.”

“But you didn’t. I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere, Steve Harrington. The universe is gonna have to try a whole lot harder to keep me away from you.”

He manages a laugh through his tears. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” you quip. “If Vecna couldn’t stop me from being with you, nothing will.”

The thought of that warms him. He realizes it’s not the universe keeping the two of you together, not fate or some higher power in the clouds. It’s love. It’s all the love the two of you have got for each other, stronger than any demogorgon or Russian soldier or dark wizard. And it’s love that’s gonna hold the two of you together for the next several decades, until you’re old and wrinkly and ugly. 

But Steve won’t think you’re ugly. He’ll think you’re as beautiful as the first moment he saw you — throwing up in the bushes outside Tina’s house after your first high school party.

You rise quickly when the door opens. Steve stands in front of you, eyes puffy and face red and smiling gently down at you anyway. “I love the shit outta you, you know that?” is all he can think to say. Because that’s all that he feels in that moment.

“Of course, I know that,” you grin up at him. Your hands rise to cup his jaw, thumbs swiping at his tear-stained cheeks. Your browns pinch in concern. “You okay?”

For the first time, he’s honest.

“No…” he murmurs with the soft shake of his head. His eyes dart away from yours and to the floor where his and your twenty toes stand, still on the ground, not floating in thin air.

“No— I… I don’t think I am,” he confesses softly. His tired, sad, and heavy honey eyes flit back up to yours again. “But I will be.”

You nod until your words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, you will.”

“If only out of pure spite of all the monsters to all the monsters trying to destroy our lives.”

“They’re gone now,” you promise, like a parent who’s checked under their child’s bed for shadows and ghosts. It works well enough. Here, with his face in your hands and standing in your shared bedroom, he’s never felt safer.

“Can you… Can you hold me?” he wonders, a little meekly because he feels like an idiot saying them. Then he feels even more like an idiot for feeling like an idiot. You’re his girlfriend, after all, cuddles sort of came with the package.

“Of course,” you answer without thinking twice. You grab his hand and tug him back to the bed almost immediately. “I’ll hold you for the rest of our fucking lives, Harrington, you know that.”

The two of you settle into the mattress. Steve uses you like a pillow, wraps all of his limbs around you and tucks his face into your neck. Your scent is a familiar one, warm and comforting, like home. “I like the sound of that,” he mumbles into your shoulder after a moment of quiet.

“Well, buckle in, baby. ‘Cause I got you for the next, like, six decades.”

You feel his smile form against your skin as Steve tucks himself inside your soul.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 31/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Slight!Smut, Language, age gap, angst, fluff

Word Count: 8459

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

It was late November, the air crisp but not too cold, and you sat on Jared’s porch in the backyard, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the scene. Jared’s wife and kids were out of town, leaving the house quiet except for the low murmur of conversation and the occasional sound of Jensen pacing in the yard below. Jensen was on the phone with Danneel—again. The tension in his voice was unmistakable, even though you couldn’t make out the exact words.

You took a sip from your beer, your shoulders slumping as you let out a sigh. It was the same story over and over. Danneel had promised to sign the divorce papers weeks ago, and yet here you were, nearly at the end of November, and nothing had changed. Every time it seemed like progress was being made, something would come up—some excuse, some new argument, and the papers would remain unsigned.

Jared, who was sitting beside you on the porch, glanced at you, clearly noticing your frustration. He took a swig of his own beer, his eyes drifting over to Jensen, who was pacing the backyard, his voice rising and falling as he argued with Danneel. It was hard not to feel the weight of the situation. This whole thing had been dragging on for far too long, and it was taking a toll on everyone—especially Jensen.

“Seems like it’s never gonna end, huh?”, Jared said quietly, breaking the silence between you. He leaned back in his chair, watching Jensen with a mixture of sympathy and annoyance. "I hate seeing him like this. He deserves better".

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak for a moment. The frustration and uncertainty had been building up inside you for weeks. You knew how much Jensen was struggling, caught between trying to do right by his kids and wanting to move forward with his life—and with you. But as long as Danneel kept dragging her feet, it felt like you were all stuck in limbo, waiting for something that might never happen.

“I just don’t get it”, you finally muttered, your voice tinged with frustration. “She said she would sign. What’s she waiting for? It’s like she’s doing this just to keep him tied up in knots”.

Jared let out a soft grunt of agreement. “That’s exactly what she’s doing. She knows what she’s doing, keeping him on edge like this. It’s about control, and she doesn’t want to let go of it”.

You sighed, resting your elbows on your knees as you watched Jensen continue to pace. You hated seeing him like this—so stressed, so caught up in a situation that seemed to have no end in sight. You knew how much he loved his kids, how important it was to him to be a good father, and that made everything more complicated. Danneel knew exactly how to push his buttons, and she wasn’t afraid to use the kids as leverage.

“He can’t keep living like this”, you said softly, more to yourself than to Jared.

Jared nodded, his gaze still fixed on Jensen. “No, he can’t. But until Danneel lets go, I don’t know what else he can do. It’s like she’s holding him hostage, and there’s only so much he can push before it affects the kids even more”.

You knew he was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to swallow. You took another sip of your beer, trying to push away the gnawing feeling of helplessness. This wasn’t how you’d imagined things would be when you and Jensen started this relationship. You knew it wouldn’t be easy, but the constant back and forth with Danneel, the endless waiting, was starting to wear you down.

After a few more minutes of pacing, Jensen finally hung up the phone, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He walked over to the porch, his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion. He didn’t say anything at first, just dropped heavily into the chair beside you, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s still not ready to sign”, he muttered, his voice tight with anger. “Every time I think we’re making progress, she pulls something like this”.

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, offering him a small squeeze of support. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I know how hard this is for you”.

Jared leaned forward in his chair, his expression serious. “You can’t let her keep doing this, man. She’s dragging this out for control, not because she has a good reason. You’ve done everything you can to be fair”.

Jensen nodded, but his eyes were distant, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders. “I just don’t know what else to do, man. I don’t want to make things worse for the kids”.

Jared sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get that. But you deserve to move on with your life too. She can’t keep you trapped like this forever”.

You sat there in silence for a moment, the three of you watching as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

Jensen stared off into the distance, his expression unreadable, before he finally ran his hands roughly over his face, letting out a long breath. Then, without saying much, he stood up and held out his hand toward you.

“C'mon”, he mumbled, his voice low but insistent.

You looked up at him, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion, then glanced toward Jared, who gave you an equally puzzled look. “What?”, you asked quietly, unsure of what he had in mind.

“Just.. come”, Jensen urged again, wiggling his hand for you to take it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what he was planning, but there was something in his eyes—a mix of determination and vulnerability—that made you reach for his hand without question. Little did you know, Jensen had something significant planned. He’d been holding onto a secret, undecided, but now, in this moment, it seemed like he was ready to show you something he hadn’t even mentioned yet-.

As you stood up, Jared, clearly intrigued, followed suit. “Hold up, I want in on this too”, Jared said, grinning as he stepped beside you and Jensen. “I mean, if it’s something dirty or crazy, I’m definitely not missing out”.

Jensen gave a small, exasperated smile, shaking his head slightly but not giving away any details. “Trust me, it’s neither. But you can come if you want”.

Jared feigned disappointment, crossing his arms in mock frustration. “Well, that’s a shame, but I’ll still tag along. Can’t have you two going off on some mysterious adventure without me”.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at Jared’s playful attitude, but your curiosity grew.

The three of you walked toward the driveway, and Jensen didn’t say much as he led you to your car, but his grip on your hand was steady, as if he was gathering his thoughts. Jared hopped into the backseat as Jensen opened the passenger door for you. Once you were all settled in the car, Jensen finally spoke up, his voice calm but a little uncertain.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about”, he began, glancing over at you as he pulled out of the driveway. “Something I haven’t told you yet”.

You stared at him, still puzzled by the silence. Jensen hadn’t said anything more since he’d mentioned having something on his mind, and with each passing second, your curiosity and anxiety grew. You could feel the weight of the unspoken words, but it was the uncertainty that really got to you. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at Jared through the rearview mirror before turning back to Jensen, who was focused on the road.

“Just tell me, Jensen!”, you finally burst out, your voice a little more tense than you intended.

Deep down, a familiar fear had started to bubble up—one you had felt before, especially after the times Jensen had been slightly dismissive or distant following another argument with Danneel. The uncertainty always left you feeling like you were bracing for something worse, something you couldn’t control.

“Please”.

Jensen glanced over at you, his eyes soft but determined, as if he could feel the worry creeping into your thoughts. He shook his head gently, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I want you to see it first”, he mumbled.

That didn’t help the knot in your stomach, but you tried to push the fear aside, trusting him. He wouldn’t lead you into something bad. He wouldn’t do that, right?

Jared, sensing the tension, leaned forward from the backseat and made an exaggerated groaning sound. “Man, you’re killing the suspense! If you’ve got some big secret, just spill it already. We’re dying here!". His teasing tone cut through the heaviness in the air, making you chuckle despite yourself.

Jensen shot him a quick look in the mirror, shaking his head again but with more amusement this time. “It’s not like that, Jared”, he said, though there was a slight grin on his face now. “Just be patient”.

You exhaled, trying to settle your nerves as the car continued down the road. Whatever this was, it had to be important, and Jensen’s tone didn’t carry the weight of something negative. But still, after everything with Danneel and the constant uncertainty of where things stood, it was hard not to let your mind wander to darker places.

"Don’t worry”, Jensen mumbled, though there was a slight nervousness in his voice that you couldn’t ignore. He placed his palm gently on your thigh, squeezing softly as his eyes flicked over to meet yours for just a moment before returning to the road. The brief glance was filled with reassurance, but there was still something in his expression—a vulnerability he hadn’t shown in a while.

You tried to relax, the warmth of his hand grounding you a little, though the tension still lingered at the back of your mind. You trusted him, but the unease from the past weeks, with Danneel’s constant presence in his life and the uncertainty about where everything was headed, made it hard to fully let go of the worry.

Jared, clearly sensing the unspoken tension, shifted in the backseat, trying to break the silence with his usual humor. “Well, whatever it is, it better be good, man. You’ve got the both of us on the edge of our seats here. If it’s not some grand romantic gesture, you’re in trouble”, he teased, winking at you in the rearview mirror.

Jensen let out a small chuckle, though it was clear his mind was still focused on whatever was coming next. “I think you’ll both like it”, he muttered, his voice softer now, as if he was gathering himself before revealing what he’d been holding back. His thumb traced light circles on your leg, an absentminded gesture that soothed your nerves just a little.

A few minutes later, Jensen turned down a quiet street, lined with trees that cast soft shadows on the road.

He continued down the private, tree-lined road. As the trees thickened, the houses became more secluded, each hidden behind dense foliage, with small, private driveways.

Jensen’s grip on your thigh tightened for just a moment before he turned into the driveway at the very end of the road. The tires crunched softly over the gravel as the car slowed to a stop in front of a beautiful, secluded house. It was large, but had a cozy, inviting feel to it. There were tall trees surrounding it, offering both shade and a sense of seclusion, making it feel like a hidden oasis tucked away from the rest of the world.

You stared at the house, a mix of surprise and awe filling you. It was stunning, with a modern but homey design—clean lines, big windows, and a porch that wrapped around the front, giving it a warm, welcoming feel.

Jensen turned off the engine and exhaled deeply, his hand slipping from your leg as he leaned back in his seat, glancing at you.

“I got the keys yesterday”, Jensen admitted, his voice quieter now. “I haven’t even taken a look inside yet. An old friend of mine did me a favor—said I could come by, take a look, see if it feels right”.

He opened his door, the sound of gravel crunching under his boots as he stepped out. “Alright, kids, let’s get out”, he mumbled, clearly trying to lighten the mood, though the nerves were still there, evident in the way he kept flexing his hands.

You stared at Jensen, still not fully understanding what was happening. “What?”, you mumbled under your breath, feeling slightly out of the loop. Jared’s eyes, on the other hand, went wide with realization. Without a second thought, he stepped out of the car and gave Jensen a rough shove on the shoulder, catching you by surprise.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, right?”, Jared exclaimed, shoving him again, this time with even more excitement.

Jared’s enthusiasm was infectious, and it quickly became clear that whatever Jensen was revealing was big—bigger than you had initially thought. Jared, obviously thrilled at the prospect, looked like he couldn’t believe his buddy was moving back Austin.

Jensen just chuckled softly, sticking one hand into his jeans pocket and raising his other hand in a mock surrender. “I haven’t bought it yet”, he said, his voice calm but tinged with that same nervous energy that had been there earlier. The weight of the moment hung between you all.

You stepped around the car, your heart beating a little faster. “Bought?”, you asked quietly, the confusion in your voice giving way to realization. Jensen was talking about buying this house.

Jensen’s gaze softened when he looked at you, but you could see the nervousness in his eyes. This was a huge step, one he clearly hadn’t expected to take so soon—or at least, not without talking to you first. “Yeah”, he admitted, his voice lowering as he took a breath. “I’ve been thinking about it. Moving back, finding something stable. And this place… I don’t know. It feels right. But I wanted you to see it first”.

Your heart skipped a beat at Jensen’s words. The idea of him moving back to Austin, especially so soon, wasn’t something you’d fully wrapped your head around. And now, standing here in front of this beautiful house, he was asking for your opinion, your involvement in the decision. The weight of it all hit you at once—this wasn’t just about a house. This was about him wanting to build a life with you.

You looked up at him, still trying to process what this all meant. “You really want me to help you decide? You want me to… move in with you?”. The question slipped out quietly, almost as if you were afraid to ask it, unsure if it was too soon to even think about something so serious.

Jensen’s gaze softened even more, and though he was clearly nervous, his determination never wavered. “Yeah”, he mumbled, his voice low but steady. “I can’t buy it until the divorce is finalized, but no matter what happens, I’d love to come back to Austin. To start fresh… With you”.

The sincerity in his voice hit you like a wave, making your heart race. He wasn’t just talking about the house—he was talking about a life, a future, one where the chaos of everything with Danneel and the divorce could finally be behind him, behind you both.

You blinked, glancing between him and the house, the realization settling in. “You really want this?”, you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jensen nodded, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles as he held your hand. “I do”, he said softly, his eyes locked on yours. “I want this for us. I know things are complicated right now, but this… this feels right. I want to build something here. Somewhere that feels like home”.

Your heart swelled with emotions—hope, love, fear, all swirling together. The thought of making such a huge step, of really committing to this new chapter with him, was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. But there was no denying the way your heart responded to his words. You wanted it too, even if the idea scared you.

Jared, standing to the side with his arms crossed, broke the moment with a playful grin. “Man, you’re really going all in, huh?”. He nudged Jensen with his elbow. “But hey, if you’re coming back to Austin, you know I’ve got your back”.

Jensen chuckled, though the nervousness hadn’t fully left him. “I can’t buy anything until the divorce is finalized, but I’m ready to make the move".

You looked back at Jensen, your chest tightening with a mix of emotions. “What if things with Danneel get worse?”, you asked quietly, the lingering fears bubbling to the surface. “What if she makes it harder for you?”.

“No matter what Danneel does, I’m moving forward. I’m not letting her hold me back anymore. I want to come back to Austin, and I want you with me”.

He was choosing you—choosing a life where you were central to his future, despite the uncertainty.

You took a deep breath, the emotions swirling inside you almost too much to handle. Despite everything Jensen had said, the weight of the decision still lingered. You wanted to be absolutely sure, to hear him say it again, to erase any doubts that might still be lingering in the back of your mind.

“Jensen”, you whispered, your voice wavering slightly, “are you really sure? Do you really want me to move in with you?”.

For a moment, he just looked at you, and then, to your surprise, a wide grin spread across his face. He rolled his eyes in that playful way that told you he wasn’t annoyed, just amused by your persistence. “You´re for real right now?”, he asked, his tone light but full of affection. “How many times do I have to say it?”.

He squeezed your hand again, pulling you closer until you were standing almost chest to chest. “I want this, alright? I want you. I want us. This isn’t just some spur-of-the-moment decision”. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, the sincerity in his eyes unmistakable. “I’ve thought about it, and yes, I want you to move in with me. I want to build a life together here. You’re a part of my future, no matter what happens”.

The warmth in his words made your heart race, and for a moment, everything else—the divorce, the uncertainties, the complications—seemed to fade into the background. It was just you and Jensen, standing there in front of this house that could very well become your home.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, laughing softly at your own emotions. “Okay”, you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want this too”.

Jensen’s grin only grew wider as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. He kissed the top of your head, murmuring, “Good, because I’m not doing this without you”.

Jared, who had been standing to the side, watching the whole thing unfold with a soft smile on his face, finally spoke up. “Alright, lovebirds”, he teased, clapping his hands together. “Are we gonna check out this house or what? Because I’m dying to see it”.

You both laughed, and Jensen loosened his grip on you, his hand still firmly holding yours as he nodded toward the front door. “Let’s take a look inside”, he said, his tone lighter now, filled with excitement.

And with that, the three of you walked toward the front door, stepping into what could be the start of a new chapter—a home, a future, and a life together.

Jensen led you and Jared through the large front door, and as soon as you stepped inside, the house took your breath away.

The entrance opened into a grand foyer with towering ceilings and polished, dark wood floors that gleamed under the soft, natural light filtering in from the oversized windows. The walls were a warm shade of cream, and the space exuded a modern yet welcoming feel. Above you, a large wrought-iron chandelier hung, casting soft light that filled the room.

Immediately to your right, a formal dining room stood, framed by large archways and floor-to-ceiling windows that let in abundant sunlight. The dining table was modern and sleek, made from rich, dark wood, with plush, cream-colored chairs. French doors led out to the side yard, offering a private outdoor dining space.

The heart of the house was the expansive living room, which flowed seamlessly into the kitchen. This open-concept space had a stunning blend of modern luxury and comfortable design. The living room had towering windows that stretched from floor to ceiling, giving you a clear view of the stunning backyard and the Colorado River just beyond. The focal point of the room was a modern stone fireplace, embedded into a wall of rich wood paneling, and surrounded by a large L-shaped couch with oversized, plush cushions.

Above, the gallery on the second floor overlooked the living room, creating an impressive open space that felt both expansive and connected. The high ceilings, clean lines, and modern furnishings gave the room a sense of understated elegance.

The kitchen was a damn dream. With sleek, custom cabinetry painted in a soft dove gray and expansive white quartz countertops, it was both practical and beautiful. A large island sat at the center, big enough for several people to gather around with its high-top barstools. The island was topped with a waterfall edge, the quartz cascading down the sides in a beautiful, smooth finish. The appliances were top-of-the-line stainless steel, seamlessly integrated into the cabinetry, and there was huge stove, double ovens, and a built-in wine fridge.

The kitchen flowed into a cozy breakfast nook, complete with a round table that looked out through large windows to the backyard.

And what a backyard it was.

Through the oversized glass doors, you stepped out onto a wide stone patio that extended the entire length of the house. There was an outdoor kitchen with a built-in grill, sink, and refrigerator. The patio opened up into an immaculately landscaped backyard. A sparkling pool was the centerpiece, with its sleek, modern design framed by stone and shaded by large oak trees. The pool had a built-in hot tub that flowed seamlessly into the main swimming area, the water cascading over the edges in a gentle, soothing sound.

Near the pool, a stone fireplace sat surrounded by a circle of comfortable outdoor lounge chairs, creating a cozy space for gatherings on cooler evenings. Beyond the perfectly manicured lawn, you could see the Colorado River glimmering in the sunlight. A small path led down to a private pier, where a few lounge chairs and a small dock were set up. It was the perfect place for fishing, launching a kayak, or just sitting by the water, enjoying the peaceful surroundings.

As you made your way back inside, Jensen led you upstairs to the second floor. The gallery overlooked the living room and kitchen below, and the sleek iron railing contrasted beautifully with the rich wood floors. Upstairs, there were four spacious bedrooms, each designed with large windows that brought in natural light. The master bedroom was the best, with a private balcony that offered sweeping views of the backyard and the river. Inside the master bedroom, there was an oversized walk-in closet with built-in shelving and enough space for even the most elaborate wardrobe.

The bathroom was pure luxury, with a deep soaking tub set beneath a large window that looked out onto the treetops, offering a serene view. The large walk-in shower was framed in glass, with modern tile and a rainfall showerhead.

Two of the additional bedrooms shared a bathroom, each with its own vanity area but connected by a shared shower and tub. The fourth bedroom had its own private bathroom, perfect for guests or a teenager seeking a bit of privacy.

Downstairs, there was another guest bedroom with a private bathroom, ensuring that any visitors would have their own space. The laundry room was large and functional, with plenty of counter space for folding clothes, built-in cabinets for storage, and a deep sink. It was tucked away in a quiet corner of the house, making it both convenient and out of sight.

The house was a perfect blend of modern luxury and comfortable living. It felt like a home designed not just for show but for a life filled with love, family, and friends. The balance of open, inviting spaces and private, cozy areas made it ideal for both intimate moments and large gatherings.

Jensen walked behind you as you wandered through the house, your eyes soaking in every detail. His hand rested gently on the small of your back, a reassuring presence as you moved from one room to the next. You could feel his anticipation, the way he waited for your reaction with every step, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

As you reached the spacious living room, you stopped for a moment, taking in the incredible view of the backyard and the river beyond. It was perfect—almost too perfect, like something out of a dream. The kind of house that felt like it could hold so much life, so much love. You turned back to Jensen, and he was already watching you, his eyes searching yours for some kind of affirmation.

“What do you think?”, he asked quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of nerves and hope.

You blinked, your mind racing as you tried to put your feelings into words. It wasn’t just about the house—it was about the life he was offering you, the future he was imagining for the two of you. And that future was starting to look more real, more tangible, with every step you took through this house.

“It’s…”, you paused, trying to catch your breath, overwhelmed by the gravity of it all. “It’s beautiful, Jensen. I mean, it’s perfect. I don’t even know what to say”.

Jensen’s face softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I wanted something that felt right for us”, he said, his hand still resting on your back. “Somewhere we can build a life. And… I wanted you to be part of that decision. I didn’t want to do this without you”.

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice making you realize just how serious he was about this—about you. You turned to fully face him, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you.

Jensen's gaze softened even more, the nervousness giving way to something deeper—an earnest vulnerability. He stepped closer, his hand brushing a few strands of hair away from your face as he spoke, his voice quiet but filled with intent.

“Even though I can’t buy it just yet”, he began, his thumb gently tracing your cheek, “if you like it—if you can see us here—I’ll take a hold on it. I want this place to be ours, but only if you can see it too”.

You felt your heart skip a beat. The house was beautiful, but it was more than just a place—it was a symbol of everything he wanted to build with you. The life you both dreamed of but hadn’t quite dared to fully imagine until now. His words hung in the air between you, charged with the weight of what this meant for your future.

You looked around once more, taking in the expansive living room, the warm sunlight filtering in through the tall windows, the view of the Colorado River in the distance. It was everything you could have imagined, and more. But what made it truly perfect wasn’t just the house itself, but the idea of sharing it with him—building a life here, together.

“I can see us here”, you whispered, turning back to him, your voice thick with emotion.

Jensen’s face lit up, his relief and happiness so palpable that it made your heart swell even more. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and you could feel the tension he had been holding onto melt away.

“Then I’ll make sure it happens”, he murmured against your skin, his arms wrapping around you. “I’ll put a hold on it. This will be our home, I promise”.

You couldn’t help but smile wider at his words, your heart racing with excitement and love. The future suddenly felt less scary and more like a promise—one you were both ready to keep.

As the moment between you and Jensen hung in the air, Jared, who had been lingering quietly in the background, finally decided it was time to make his presence known. He cleared his throat dramatically, stepping into the living room with an exaggerated grin plastered on his face.

“Well”, Jared began, clapping his hands together with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Look at you two, playing house already. I knew I was tagging along for something juicy”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at Jared’s playful tone, while Jensen rolled his eyes, clearly anticipating the teasing that was about to come.

Jared walked around the room, spreading his arms wide as he admired the house. “I mean, this place is ridiculous. I’m talking perfect. You guys will have to fight me to keep me from moving in. I can already see myself in that pool, cocktail in hand. You’ll never get rid of me!”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Yeah, well, if you show up uninvited, I’ll be sure to have the pool drained”, he teased, earning a chuckle from you.

Jared put a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Oh, come on! That’s no way to treat your future houseguest slash best man slash live-in nanny for the kids”, he joked, winking at you.

Jensen chuckled at Jared’s antics, but the lightness in his laugh was fleeting. You could sense the shift in his mood as the reality of everything else weighing on him began to creep back in. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing between you and Jared before letting out a soft sigh.

“There’s something I haven’t mentioned yet”, Jensen started, his voice a little more serious now. “Danneel’s been talking about moving back to Austin too, once we sell the house in Fairfield”.

You could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke, the uncertainty of the situation hanging in the air.

Jensen glanced at you, his hand finding yours as if he needed that grounding connection. “But.. Even if she doesn’t move back here, though… I’ll figure it out. I’ll move here no matter what. I want to be close to the kids, and to you”, he added, his eyes softening as they met yours. “But if the worst-case scenario happens and she decides to move somewhere else entirely, I’ll find a way to make it work. I’m not going to let her or the situation keep me from living where I want to be, and who I want to be with”.

You felt a wave of relief mixed with the weight of the situation. The fact that Jensen was so determined to move forward, to make Austin home, was reassuring, but you could also sense the strain of it all—the endless negotiations with Danneel, the logistics of parenting, and how it all weighed heavily on his shoulders.

You and Jensen took one last slow walk around the house. The house, with its stunning design and the potential it held for a new beginning, suddenly felt even more significant.

Jensen’s hand remained firmly on your back, his fingers tracing slow, soothing circles as the two of you stepped out into the backyard. The sound of the river flowing softly in the distance mixed with the quiet rustling of the trees. The setting sun cast a golden glow across the landscape, making everything feel peaceful for just a moment.

As you reached the edge of the yard, standing by the path that led down to the private pier, Jensen stopped, turning toward you with a contemplative look on his face. He pulled you close to his side, wrapping his arm securely around you as you leaned against him.

“I know it’s a lot to take in”, he murmured, his voice soft. “But I want you to know that no matter what happens, this is where I want to be—with you”.

You looked up at him, feeling the warmth of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. There was still so much uncertainty with Danneel, the kids, and the logistics of everything, but in this moment, all that mattered was the decision you were making together.

Jensen pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment as if he needed the closeness. “We’ll make this work”, he whispered against your hair. “Whatever it takes”.

You nodded, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. “I believe you”, you whispered back, wrapping your arms around his waist as you rested your head against his chest.

Jared, who had been quietly watching from the patio, finally broke the silence with a lighthearted chuckle. “Alright, are we done with the heartfelt stuff? Because I’m getting emotional over here”.

As the three of you walked back toward the car, Jensen kept his arm around you, his presence steady and reassuring. Jared kept a light atmosphere as he teased you both, but there was an unspoken understanding between all of you.

Once you all settled back into the car, Jensen started driving, the familiar sound of the engine humming as you headed back to Jared’s place. The sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows on the road, but inside the car, the mood was light.

Jensen glanced at Jared through the rearview mirror as they drove, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “So, you told Gen about me and her?”, he asked, keeping his voice casual, but there was a flicker of curiosity behind it. He wanted to know how much Jared’s wife knew.

Jared grinned in the mirror, clearly enjoying the shift in conversation. “Oh, you mean have I told Gen that you’ve finally got your head out of your ass and found someone who’s way too good for you?”, Jared teased, his tone light but affectionate.

Jensen rolled his eyes, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something like that”.

Jared leaned back in his seat. “Of course I’ve told her”, he said, more seriously now. “She’s happy for you, man. She’s always rooting for you. But you know she’ll want to meet her again”. He nodded toward you with a grin. “Sooner rather than later”. His grin widening as he continued, "Gen knew something was up from the beginning. Right at my birthday party". He gave a knowing glance to Jensen through the rearview mirror, clearly amused by the memory.

Jensen raised an eyebrow, but he already seemed to know where Jared was going with this. "Oh yeah?", he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Dude, Gen figured it out that night. I mean, come on—since when do either of us invite a random person we met while buying alcohol for a party?". He shot you a wink, his grin widening. "You weren’t just some random guest. Gen clocked it right away, knew there was something going on".

You chuckled softly at Jared’s playful tone, feeling both flattered and slightly embarrassed at the revelation. You hadn’t realized that it was so obvious from the start, but Jared clearly had a knack for reading people, and it seemed like his wife was just as perceptive.

Jensen laughed, shaking his head slightly as he kept his eyes on the road. “I thought I was being subtle”.

Jared let out a scoff. “Subtle? Please. You guys had the whole ‘secret glances across the room’ thing going on. Gen saw right through it”. He paused for a moment before adding, more seriously, “And honestly? She wasn’t surprised. She knew for years that things with you and Danneel weren’t working. It was only a matter of time”.

There was a quiet shift in the car after that. Jensen’s expression softened, and you could feel the weight of those words settle in. Jared wasn’t wrong. Jensen’s marriage with Danneel had been rocky for a long time, and now, as everything was coming to a head, it felt like a natural, if difficult, progression.

Jared leaned forward again, his tone more thoughtful now. “Gen’s always said that you deserve to be happy, man. We’ve all seen how hard you’ve worked to make things right with Danneel, but sometimes… it just doesn’t work out. And that’s okay. The important thing is that you’re doing what’s best for you, and now… well, you’ve found someone who makes you happy”.

Jensen glanced over at you for a brief moment, his hand squeezing yours gently before returning to the wheel. "Yeah", he murmured, his voice low but filled with emotion. "I have".

Jared’s grin returned, and he leaned back in his seat, clearly pleased with how the conversation had gone. “Just don’t screw it up, man”, he teased lightly.

As December rolled into town, the colder morning outside was forgotten in the warmth of your shared bed. You lay on your stomach, feeling the soft sheets beneath you, tangled around your legs, while Jensen hovered above you, his body radiating heat. He was slightly between your legs, his hands gripping the mattress tightly on either side of your head as his lips moved lazily down your bare lower back. His touch was soft but firm, sending tingles up your spine as he explored every inch of your skin.

His hips brushed against your buttcheek, and just as his teeth gently bit down, causing you to giggle softly, the sound of his phone rang, shattering the intimacy of the moment.

Jensen groaned against your skin, his forehead coming to rest against the small of your back as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course", he mumbled, the frustration clear in his voice.

You couldn't help but smile, turning your head slightly to glance at him. "You going to get that?", you teased, your voice still breathy from the closeness of the moment.

He huffed, his lips brushing against your back one last time before he lifted himself off you, reaching toward the bedside table where his phone buzzed insistently. He glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing slightly.

"It's probably something that can wait", Jensen said, sounding more annoyed than concerned, his thumb hovering over the decline button. He looked at you, his lips curling into a small, mischievous grin as he leaned down again, his lips ghosting over your shoulder.

You turned your head back into the pillow, chuckling. "Are you sure?", you asked, knowing how quickly things could shift, especially with all that had been going on in his life lately.

Jensen hesitated for a moment longer before finally pulling back again, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. "Yeah, it's nothing that can't wait", he murmured.

His hands slid back down to your hips, his body resuming its position above yours, the closeness and warmth between you quickly reigniting the spark of intimacy. "Now, where were we?", he asked, his voice low and teasing as he nuzzled the back of your neck, his hips pressing closer to yours.

You giggled softly, your body relaxing back into the moment, the world outside once again fading away.

As the quiet moment stretched on, Jensen's closeness grew more intense. You felt the firm pressure of his arousal against you. His breath was warm against your ear, his groans soft but laden with need as he kissed along your neck, each touch sending shivers down your spine.

Jensen's hands gripped your hips gently, his movements deliberate as he pressed closer. His lips traced a path from your neck down to your shoulder, each kiss deepening the connection that the morning laziness had already fostered.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, seeing in his eyes a mix of affection and desire that mirrored your own feelings.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of heat as you pressed yourself back against Jensen, your bodies fitting together in a way that felt natural and intoxicating. His soft groans in response made your heart race, the tension between you building with every touch, every movement.

But then, his phone rang again, the sound breaking through the intimacy of the moment like an unwelcome intruder. Jensen groaned in frustration this time, burying his face in the curve of your neck as the phone continued to buzz insistently.

“Seriously?”, he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. He kissed your shoulder before sighing deeply, clearly reluctant to let go of the moment.

You giggled softly, feeling his irritation, but part of you was just as frustrated. “You should probably get that”, you whispered, your voice a mix of amusement and disappointment.

Jensen sighed again, reluctantly lifting himself off you, his hand brushing your back one last time before he reached for his phone on the nightstand. He glanced at the screen, and his expression shifted from annoyance to something more serious.

He hesitated for a second, his fingers hovering over the screen before he finally answered. "Yeah?", he said, his tone immediately changing, more alert now.

As much as you wanted to stay lost in the moment with him, you could sense the shift. Something was happening.

While Jensen continued talking with his manager, you tried to quietly slip out of bed, swinging one leg over his hips, intending to get up and make some much-needed coffee. You’d spent way too long in bed, lost in each other, kissing, teasing, and now the morning sun was filtering in through the curtains.

But just as you started to move, Jensen’s hand shot out, gripping your thigh firmly. His touch sent a jolt of warmth through you, and you froze in place, one leg still draped over him, the other half out of bed. His hand brushed up to your hipbone, fingers grazing your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. He pulled you gently closer to him, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp as your body followed his lead, your most intimate part mere inches from his face.

Jensen’s eyes sparkled with amusement, a slow grin spreading across his lips as he watched you, fully aware of how flustered you had become. His phone was still pressed to his ear, his voice steady and composed as he continued the conversation with his manager. But his free hand was anything but composed. It moved deliberately, fingers brushing over your hip, then lower, teasing the sensitive skin.

Your heart raced as his thumb began to trace slow circles near your clit, the touch almost too light to be real, yet sending waves of electricity through you. You blushed furiously, your breath catching in your throat. The contrast between the casual way he spoke on the phone and the intimate attention he was giving you sent your mind into a whirlwind of sensation and anticipation.

Jensen's grin widened as he noticed your reaction, his thumb pressing just a little harder, brushing directly over your clit. He kept his eyes on you, his gaze dark with desire, even as he continued speaking in that smooth, calm tone, completely in control of the situation while you were quickly losing yours. The combination of his teasing touch and his playful, confident grin made it impossible for you to think clearly.

Every nerve in your body was attuned to his touch, and as his thumb continued to move in slow, deliberate circles, you could feel your body responding despite the presence of his phone conversation. You let out a shaky breath, your hands gripping the sheets as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was a losing battle.

As you hovered over Jensen’s chest, your breath shallow, you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. He licked his lips, his gaze flickering between your flushed face and the intimate space between your legs.

Without breaking eye contact, Jensen dipped his thumb inside you, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes darkening with desire. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp, your body reacting instantly to his teasing.

Jensen’s lips curled into a grin as he watched you, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you.

His thumb moved with a purpose, circling and retreating in a way that was maddeningly perfect. Each motion was calculated to draw out the moment, to intensify your desire without granting the final release.

As you struggled to maintain composure, the sound of Jensen's voice mingled with the sensations he was eliciting. He continued his conversation with his manager, his tone professional despite the intimate situation. "Yes, I've reviewed the schedule for January", he said, his voice steady. "We need to ensure that the production aligns with my current…. commitments. Can we possibly push the filming start by a week?".

His manager’s response was inaudible, but Jensen's slight nod indicated he was listening intently. "Understood", Jensen replied after a moment. "But let's try to negotiate for a bit more flexibility. It's crucial that the dates don't clash".

Throughout the call, Jensen’s thumb paused occasionally, his attention momentarily splitting between you and his professional obligations. Each pause left you anticipating more, the slow burn of need growing with each second of delay.

"Alright, send me the revised schedule once you've had that conversation", Jensen finally said, concluding the call. As he set his phone aside, his full attention returned to you. His grin broadened, aware of the intense state he'd left you in.

"Sorry about that", he murmured, his voice laced with amusement. "Let´s get to the important thing". His thumb resumed its slow, deliberate dance, pushing you closer to the brink this time, his gaze locked on yours, reading every reaction, every tremor that coursed through you.

"Focus can be a tricky thing, can't it?", Jensen teased, his words a velvet caress that matched the physical ones. His touch became slightly more insistent, promising that he was now fully present, committed to taking you all the way.

An hour later, the morning had settled into a comfortable rhythm. You sat at your small kitchen island, eating your bowl of cereal, the soft clinking of your spoon against the bowl the only sound in the quiet space. Jensen stood nearby, leaning casually against the counter, a mug of coffee in one hand while his other scrolled through emails on his phone. Every now and then, he'd glance at something on the screen, his brow furrowing slightly as he responded to work-related messages.

Despite the quiet, there was an easy, intimate vibe between the two of you. Occasionally, Jensen would lean over toward you, wordlessly opening his mouth as if expecting you to offer him a spoonful of your cereal. You chuckled at his unspoken request, shaking your head but obliging him nonetheless. You scooped up a bit of cereal and brought the spoon to his mouth, which he took with a playful grin.

"You're like a child sometimes", you teased, rolling your eyes as he chewed thoughtfully, clearly enjoying the bite.

"Well, you picked a good cereal", Jensen quipped, his voice casual, though there was a soft affection in his tone. He took another sip of his coffee, his eyes returning to his phone, though you could tell he wasn’t completely absorbed in work—there was still a lightness about him that hinted he was still mentally with you.

"So, anything exciting in your emails?", you asked, resting your chin in your hand, watching him as he scrolled through his inbox.

"Just more scheduling", Jensen sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Trying to make sure everything’s set for January when filming starts again. There’s always something". He put his phone down for a moment and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. "But I’d rather be here with you than thinking about work".

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. It was these little moments that made everything feel so easy and real between the two of you—simple mornings like this, where the world outside the kitchen didn't matter much.

"Well, if you keep stealing my cereal, you’ll definitely be here a while", you joked, pushing the bowl slightly toward him.

Jensen chuckled, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Good thing I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, then". He took another sip of coffee, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer, the weight of his words settling between you both in a way that was both reassuring and meaningful.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 32

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[not-the-cheese]

one(ish) sentence summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 3 (111-154)

HELLO FRIENDS In honor of one of my friends starting tma i am posting the rest of what i have for this series

I'm going to be honest, i wrote all of these like a year and a half ago so i don't even remember if all of them are as accurate as i thought they were at the time so tell me what u guys think ( ALSO IM SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST THESE)

if you guys want more i can be convinced to relisten to the series and finish this and also send me asks i love getting asks

------------------------------------------------------------

111. god fuck he just wanted his friends to call him gerry

112. guys I have a great idea for a game it’s called murder tag and there are no downsides I promise

113. sweet dreams goodnight don’t let the carbon monoxide poisoning bite

114. cleaning lady takes a trip to mandela effect land

115. ship cook discovers an infinite meat glitch!

116. oh god the unknowing ritual is fnaf security breach

117. alright guys it’s time to prepare for clown time let’s do a roll call

118. martin burns some stuff and gets traumatized while Jon and the homies are sneaking through an interactive wax museum.

119. ah fuck it’s clown time

120. omg! you were in the archivist’s dream last night! so cool!!

121. dude I’d KILL for a good night’s sleep

122. the worst person you know tells you about their "new philosophical theory" for 24 minutes

123. man is scammed into being the helpless mod for murder reddit

124. old man ruins our austrian mountain trip with impromptu skydiving

125. bagpipe music makes an entire town do a The Purge (2013)

126. man is so shit at sculpting that it literally makes four people loose their minds

127. hey guys… eye am not feeling so well…

128. skinwalker delivery man mourns the loss of his skinwalker delivery husband

129. we needed this rain

130. HOT SINGLES IN YOUR AREA WILL FILL YOUR HOLE WITH MEAT

131. I get the guy who turns peoples’ bones to turn my bones and also tell me the story of how he started turning peoples’ bones

132. MAN OPENS COFFIN. WE ARE VERY WORRIED FOR HIM.

133. My son’s weird boyfriend is a little too invested in my treasure hunt.

134. journalist takes a short and awful trip to dystopia land and it gives both her and adelard decker an existential crisis .

135. let me tell you about our lord and savior: shadow jesus.

136. my boss does a reverse pinocchio.

137. I am saved from the real horrors of war by spooky ghost horrors of war.

138. my dear jonah, it seems my years of fucking around have finally caught up to me, and I am nearing the time in which I will find out.

139. Local cult cooks up an antichrist and then deals with the terrible consequence: parenthood.

140. 17th century homoerotic rivalry between an astronomer and shadow jesus

141. our captain got depressed and then made us all steal a camera

142. hey sorry your archivist got addicted to eating trauma. yeah he’s just watching people on the street now. yeah he’s pulling statements from them like teeth. yeah he’s been showing up in my dreams and he is all eyes.

143. we KILL this evil orb using the power of looking at it too closely

144. math podcast makes man foresee the end of the world

145. gertrude drops the hardest diss track of the century on the desolation / part 2 of local cult’s adventures in parenthood

146. man is stalked by a sneaky door.

147. the archives is stalked by a sneaky spider lady.

148. Security camera guy loves his job so much that he becomes a security camera.

149. weird trash art in the Amazon rainforest bites researcher

150. HOMOPHOBIC SUBURBAN HOUSES

151. have you ever played aquarium tycoon

152. let me introduce you to the world of recreational dirt naps ( I am not asking )

153. evil worm polycule

154. i quit my job and my hot goth wife kills me.

Part 1 | Part 2

[stygiusfic]

wyllstarion, adventurers

Running into Wyll Ravengard in the middle of a job once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is—something to complain about after these horrifying mutant unicorns are dead, good gods, these bloody things can breathe sunlight?

"Stand back!" yells Wyll. Or something equally heroic, anyway—Astarion is too busy leaping out of the way to listen to his exact words.

It's the middle of the night, in the middle of the Cloakwood; but when the first of those nasty unicorns opens its nasty unicorn mouth, the cone of deadly radiance that spews forth makes the world bright as day. It's blinding. It's grounds for demanding triple pay. Astarion gets away clear, so narrowly he feels the draft of sun-hot air blow past.

He has no time to feel relief, because that's when Wyll howls in pain.

"Shit." Astarion whirls around, desperately blinking the dancing spots out of his vision; he makes out the alarming details in stages. Right in front of where Astarion was standing moments ago, Wyll has fallen to his knees. The exposed skin of his nape is burned and blistering rapidly. Like the idiot dove into the blast to shield Astarion.

Wyll grits out, "Are you okay?"

Astarion wants to scream. He wants to cry in relief that Wyll didn't die. He wants to kill Wyll himself.

He does none of these things, because the second nasty unicorn is watching Wyll, injured on the ground, like it wants to finish what its friend started. So Astarion lunges at the wretched thing and stabs it in the neck twice.

"Get up, you insufferable fool!" he yells at Wyll, over the unicorn's shriek. "Stop fretting about me, and let's kill these things already!"

"Right you are," Wyll wheezes.

He gets up, sword in hand—good thing he didn't drop it in the chaos, he can't summon it back with a thought like he used to anymore—and he launches back into the fray. And together, they do in fact kill these things.

It's not a pleasant hunt. Just standing near the creatures burns Astarion's skin. And as if they weren't hateful enough already, it turns out they are also telepathic. When Astarion grapples his prey down to the sun-scorched ground, in its last few breaths of life, it chooses to plant an image in his mind:

Two unicorns glowing with divine righteousness, charging into a forest alongside their paladin master to strike down a hag. Then the paladin dies in battle, and her bonded beasts are corrupted by the hag and forced to rampage and do evil.

The dying unicorn's glassy eye is fixed on Astarion's raised knife. In Common, the sentiment it conveys to Astarion translates to: Tonight, you are a true hero. Thank you.

Ugh.

"You're welcome," Astarion responds, out loud, and stabs where he can sense its beating heart. Then, with a final high-pitched whinny, it's over.

He backs away from the unicorn immediately, in case its radiant aura still burns after its death. Five, ten steps; he rests his back against a tree; and soon he feels the familiar cold relief of his undead flesh healing on its own. He sighs. Good old vampiric regeneration. He did miss it, all those months fighting the Absolute; the one change he resented the tadpole for.

Somberly to his left, in a puddle of glimmering unicorn blood, Wyll says, "These poor creatures. Corrupted by a hag, helpless to resist her wicked designs. I should like to—"

"You should like to return with me to town and collect our payment," Astarion interrupts, because Wyll's good eye is peering deeper into the foliage—as if hoping for a chicken-legged hut to manifest and spit out a hag to complete his crusade. He reeks of burned flesh and spilled blood, two smells that evoke directly opposed instincts inside Astarion. "You are very injured, Wyll, and I'm not leaving you to die a stupid death out here. We're going back."

For a heartbeat it looks like Wyll is going to argue. Then he looks at Astarion and smiles. "All right." Ducks his head, like he's bashful all of a sudden. "All right, Astarion. Let's go."

So they go.

They're on the outskirts of town by the time Astarion recalls he meant to make a fuss about the fact that Wyll keeps showing up in his life out of nowhere. Sometimes he appears uninvited to save the day, others to unwittingly abscond with the job. It's untenable. It can't keep happening. Astarion hasn't spent the last few months risking his life for strangers out of some secret desire to split the money after.

But Wyll spends the whole walk back talking about his recent adventures, laughing next to Astarion like he's too happy to feel the pain of his wounds. And so Astarion figures he can skip the complaints, just this once.

[jasmines-library]

Black Smoke Rising

WHUMPTOBER DAY 30: Prompt ‘possession’

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: Seeking revenge on the Winchesters, a demon decides to go undercover by using your body as a vessel to sneak into the bunker. Whilst trapped within your own mind, you can only hope that Sam and Dean notice that something is amis before it is too late.

Warnings: Possession, alcohol consumption, minor injury.

Word count: 1.6k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

You knocked back another drink, savouring the warm burn it left in the back of your throat. The bar was busy, full of a swarm of loud and more often than not obnoxious people, most of which were nursing a glass of something cool or slinging a pool cue across a table against the rattling balls. It was odd that you had chosen to come here to find some space. A place so busy that you could hardly stand without being jostled around like a rag doll. You figured that perhaps watching people getting on with their lives allowed you to take a breather. To revel in a normal life just for a moment and to get away from all of the mess for just a moment.  

It had been a very stressful week to say the least. You and the rest of team Free Will were so wrapped up in a case that it was beginning to go to everyone’s head when you kept hitting dead ends. It was that build up of anger and frustration that led to the argument with Dean. The two of you were similar in the way that you both tried to suppress your emotions, but it never ended well because it only fueled you more until you snapped, spitting words at each other that you knew you would come to regret later but you couldn’t stop from flying out of your mouth. They were hurtful words, each cutting deeper than the first, but Dean spat venom laced words back at you too until you finally broke down, fleeing the bunker to  find solace in the bottom of a bottle. You could practically see Dean doing the same thing back at the bunker, wallowing in guilt and self pity. 

You were about to leave, splashing the last of the amber liquid into the back of your throat when you suddenly got the feeling that someone was studying you closely, but when you glanced around the room, your hunter training kicking in, you saw no one. So, you let out a deep sigh and pushed your stool away from the bar to return to the bunker. It was getting late and you knew that you would have to face Dean sooner or later. Although you would have much rather picked the ‘later’ option, if you had had somewhere else to go and we’re going to be kicked out of the bar soon.  

The odd feeling still lingered as you stepped out of the bar and out onto the cold streets still illuminated by the last of the streetlights and the luminescence of the moon through intermittent clouds. You couldn't help but tug your jacket closer to your body as you walked through the town. A shiver trailed down your spine. Unsure if it was from the crisp autumn air or from the feeling that still followed you, you made a mental note to bring a warmer jacket next time. 

Then, you felt your feet leave the ground and your back collide with a wall as someone pressed you up harshly against the wall. The woman was tall with dark hair and in a split second she flashed you her inky black eyes. Demon, 

“Get off me.” You gave her a sharp shove. 

She hummed. “How ‘bout… no?”

She slid a blade from her jacket sleeve. An angel blade. You dread to think where she had gotten it from. You tried to back away. But she pressed the tip of the blade into your shoulder where your anti possession tattoo sat. She dragged it along your skin creating a split in your tattoo.

She grinned. “That’s better.”

You were helpless as the black smoke rose from her vessel's mouth, rising to the sky in a plume before funnelling into your mouth. You could feel the demon rummaging around in your head, forcing you to retreat into the back of your mind. It was like watching the world though a movie screen as she moved, forcing your body forward. You screamed at her to get out, but she only ignored you and made the trek to the bunker. 

It was unbelievably easy for the Demon to slip into the bunker unnoticed whilst inside your body. With access to your memories, she walked like you, talked like you. She didn’t think like you though. Amongst other things you could hear the nightmarish thoughts that ran through her mind. The things she planned to do to Sam and Dean were things that you wouldn’t wish upon anyone. She was desperate for revenge, and she was going to get it good. 

Dean stood up abrupt when he saw you shuffle into the bunker, hanging up your thin jacket on the hooks by the doors. 

“Y/N… listen I-”

The Demon cut him off with a wave of your finger. “It’s okay, Dean.”

“Dean!” You screamed at him, but no sound came out of your mouth. You prayed that he would notice it wasn’t you. That he would realise that there was something using your body as a puppet. The demon only barked at you to be quiet, a conniving smile appearing on her lips.

Dean and the demon exchanged a few words, before he turned and made for the kitchen, something tickling at the back of his mind. It was unusual for you to forgive him in a blink of an eye. Usually you would have taken some more time to think over it rationally before trying to talk your struggles out with him. But not this time. You had hardly batted an eye, 

Sam was tapping away at his keyboard as Dean chopped away at the counter, sliding in ingredients into a sizzling pan. He eyed you from the doorway, watching as you ran your fingers along the dusty shelves, inspecting the rows of sharp knives. 

“She actin’ strange to you?” Dean asked through a mouthful of food that hadn’t quite made it to the pan. 

Sam tilted his head out of the doorway, leaning over on his chair so that it was balanced precariously on two legs. “I don’t know.”

“I mean, she forgave me, Sam. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers together to emphasise the point. 

Sam frowned. “Hm.”

“Something’s up.” Dean had known it since the minute you had hung up your coat instead of throwing it absentmindedly on the floor or over a chair. 

“Demon?”

Dean furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure. But I'm going to find out.”

~

Dean had found you in your room, laid out across your stomach and scrolling through your phone. The demon pressed a smirk onto your lips as he leaned up against the doorway. 

“Hey, De. You okay?” She said, It was odd hearing your voice without saying the words. 

“Yeah… Y/N, I gotta show you something.” He gestured to you to follow him out of the room. 

You tried to call out to him as the Demon followed with your light footsteps, but there was nothing but silence. He led you to the dungeon, which was dimly lit and. 

“Why are we here, Dean?” She asked as she noted the Devils trap on the floor dancing cautiously around it as she followed the eldest Winchester who had begun to rummage around in a box on one of the shelves. 

“We are looking for a Demon.” He spun around, splashing the holy water against your skin. The demon howled and stumbled back. It was then that Sam leapt out of the shadows and gave a harsh shove, causing your body to clatter to the ground inside the devil’s trap. 

The Demon smiled. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to crack it. I knew it wouldn’t be long but for a hunter, you’re unusually smart.” She quipped. 

“Get out of her, you Bitch.” He ordered. 

She just laughed which earnt her another round of holy water against her skin. 

“Y/N. I know you’re still in there.” Dean said. “You have to fight her!”

You were. You wanted to scream at him. You were but she just wouldn’t budge. The Demon yelled at you to shut up, silencing you. 

“Y/N’s not home right now. But you can leave a message. She was calling out to you. Pleading for me not to hurt you but…”

“Was?”

She hummed. “Well…”

Sam began to mutter the latin incantation. The demon groaned as she felt herself being forced from her vessel, fighting against the sensation, she pulled out her knife again and angled it over your abdomen. 

“Ah ah. Not another word, Sammy.”

He froze. 

“Y/n.” Dean tried again. “I know you’re there. Come on, you're stronger than this.”

Weakened by the trap, you managed to get a grip on the demons hold over you, prying away her fingers one by one. It was hard laborious work, but watching Sam and Dean plead for you gave you the extra push you needed to force her away for just a second. 

When you gained blissful control over your body, you dropped the knife, kicking it out of the circle. 

“Y/N?!” Sam asked.

“Sam! Now.” You gritted out. “Hurry.”

Sam uttered the rest of the exorcism and your head flew back as the black smoke rose from your mouth and out through one of the vents.

You slumped to the floor.

“Kid?” The brothers were both at your sides, checking you over for scrapes. Sam’s gaze landed on the gash that ran down your tattoo. They would have to fix that sooner or later. 

“I’m okay.” You tugged them closer. “It’s me.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 29 ⛤ DAY 31 ->

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