#and thought “I'm going to fuck around and find out”

[justcallmedom31]

Ig it's Storytime with Dom now @not-so-local-lesbian lol Where do I begin. Hm. I really don't know how to start but basically, two bandits broke into my family home last week, and now i'm recovering from trauma 👍 Now for the long story. For context first. My grandparents built a home here where I live, that's in the Philippines. Locals call it, the Engineer's House, for the sole fact that my late grandfather was a mechanical engineer, who designed and built the home himself before he passed away 8 years ago. There's swimming pool, a pond, a farm, and a lot of mango trees. 80 Mango Trees to be exact. Quite proud of them heh. I am set to inherit the land in a couple years or so. I forgot how large the lot is exactly, but it's enough to fit a couple basketball courts within heh. Last week, two bandits broke into it. Thank gosh, my family and I weren't there at the time, as we were in Quezon City, hanging out with my two aunts from Australia who were visiting. How did we know the broke in? They were caught by my mother's CCTV she installed in the living room. At 2:28 AM, my mother was notified by the motion sensor, to which thankfully she was awake at the time, talking with one of my aunts. At first she thought it was a spider, but upon closer look. There was a man going down the stairs. She originally thought it was ghost, but looked closer to find that they were indeed, bandits. Two Bandits. their faces were covered. So, my mum panicked, and my aunt. my other aunt woke up to the panics, and also panicked herself. I woke up around the time they realized two people broke in, and rushed to call our relatives who lived nearby. Thankfully, we managed to wake up one of my aunts who lived in the same barangay (that's sorta like a village ig). Her husband went in with a flashlight which managed to scare away the bandits. and boy, was it a mess inside. And yeah, that's what happened. My family had to pack to drive all the way there to investigate what happened and clean up the mess inside. While we drove, which took 6 hours, the police were notified of the incident and investigated the crime. I won't go into too much detail from what happened when we arrived, but from what I could tell of investigating it myself, the two bandits were spying on the home from the mango trees outside. around late night, they made their way in over the fence, and up to the third floor balcony, through which is where they broke in. they searched through everything on the second floor. Only thing they could find that looked valuable was my late great-grandmother's bag of old coins and a few bags. When my relatives scared em, the only thing they managed to steal was two. fucking. bags. TWO. BAGS. OUT OF EVERYTHING IN THE HOUSE. OUT OF THE VASES AND TECH. THEY ONLY MANAGED TO STEAL TWO FUCKING BAGS. I'M NOT BLOODY JOKINGG what's even funnier, is when they were inside our home, they fucking drank water in the kitchen and even popped out some of the ice, and wine. Oh yeah, and they also saw the cctv and managed to take it out, but THEY DROPPED IT OUTSIDE THE HOME. ALONG WITH THE BAG OF COINS LIKE WHAT?? HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE?? The coins date back all the way to 1972, so i understand they can't really be used... BUT LIKE, THEY STILL HAVE VALUE??? WHY WWOULD YOU DROP SO MUCH ON THE GROUND?? WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU DROP EVERYTHING??? It's a good thing at least, that they dropped them. BUT WHYYY???? AND ALSO GET THIS. THEY LEFT THEIR FUCKING TOOLS INSIDE. EVERYTHING. AND THEIR FINGERPRINTS. AND SANDALS. AND EVEN HOODIES. THEY'RE SO STUPID LMAOO So, yeah, there's my story. it was really traumatizing knowing i could have been there that day. and. i could have died. Because they had weapons when they broke in. the weapons were discovered to have been hidden under the bed. But yeah anyways, theres storytime for today. i'm going to be fine too dw, i can walk it off :PP

[archangeldyke-all]

Angel I need to share this with you. I saw this tiktok where a girls bf switched shoes with her on the way back from a night out. So he took off his shoes and gave them to her so she could be more comfortable, and then he put on her heels and walked the rest of the way back in them.

You think our sweet sev would do that???

- 🐥

oh COMPLETELY!!!

men and minors dni

this evening, when you decided to wear your most uncomfortable pair of heels, you were under the impression that tonight would be a lowkey dinner date, where the most walking you'd have to do was to and from the car.

that had been the plan. and dinner had been great. you and sevika spent the evening making lovey eyes across the table from one another, feeding one another bites of your dinner, and laughing.

but then you'd gotten back to your car, sevika had turned the key, and a horrible grinding noise rang out.

"fuck is that?!" you ask. sevika groans.

"it can't be good." she says.

so, your evening takes a turn. you spend forty five minutes sitting in the car waiting for a tow truck, then another forty five letting the mechanic poke around under the hood.

"yeah, i'm gonna have to take it to the shop." marcy the mechanic says. sevika groans and you rub her back.

"how long 'til it'll be ready?" your wife asks. marcy shrugs.

"two days, a week at most."

"a week?!" sevika cries.

you squeeze her shoulder. "relax, baby. marcy, thank you so much for coming out so late." you say.

"'course. you ladies need a ride home? it'll take a few minutes for me to get the car hitched to my truck, but i don't mind stopping on the way back to the shop."

you shake your head. you're tired and you just want to get home. you're only a few blocks away, and sevika probably needs the walk to calm down anyways. "that's alright, we'll hoof it. thanks marcy. text me when you get back to your shop safe, alright?" you ask.

marcy salutes you. "will do. you ladies have a good night. or... as good a night as you can, after this."

which is how you find yourself walking half a mile in your worst fucking shoes.

you manage just fine for the first few blocks. by the time you're in your neighborhood, your feet are aching and you're clinging to sevika's arm for support.

and now, three blocks from home, you just can't take it anymore.

"hold on, honey." you groan as you pull sevika to a bench. she frowns at you in concern.

"you alright?" she asks, pinching your cheek sweetly. you chuckle.

"my feet are killing me. just give me a few seconds to rest and i'll be good to go again."

sevika giggles and sits beside you, kissing your head. "didn't plan on an evening stroll, did ya?" she asks. you snort.

"no, i didn't."

"not our best date night." sevika laments. you laugh.

"not our worst either, though." you say.

"no? which one was our worst?"

"hmm... remember that time the restaurant caught on fire during our anniversary?"

sevika bursts into laughter. "you think that was our worst? our dinner was comped and we got free drinks for life!"

you snort. "well, what do you think our worst date's been?"

"the time we tried to go for a hike and a fucking hail storm started. i thought we were gonna get fuckin' iced off the mountain." she says.

you laugh and rest your head on your wife's shoulder. "god, that was horrible."

"or maybe the time we took jinx and isha to the aquarium and they both got food poisoning."

"they never shoulda eaten the fish sticks in that cafe. 's just wrong to eat fish in their own fuckin' house." you giggle.

"fuck, we were in that bathroom for hours."

"i'm just glad the cleaning staff was so fuckin' nice about all the vomit. i woulda banned us for life." you say.

sevika cackles and kisses your head. "how are your feet?"

"still sore, but i can manage."

"don't be stupid." sevika grunts. you frown, not understanding what she means until she bends over and starts untying her shoes.

"what're you doing?"

"i'll trade with ya."

"sevika!" you laugh. "we are not the same shoe size."

she giggles and shrugs. "so? we only got three blocks left."

"have you ever even walked in heels before?"

sevika shrugs again. "no. but how hard can it be?" she asks as she wiggles out of her shoes. you snort.

"sevika, you're gonna break your ankle."

"so, i'll hold your hand." she says. she shoots a mean glare at you, like she's daring you to protest further. you just roll your eyes and slip your heels off.

"i really don't wanna visit the hospital tonight, sev."

"i'll be fine." she giggles, handing you her fancy dress shoes and taking your heels in her hands.

you laugh as you watch her slip into them, standing with a slight wobble, before turning around and crouching to tie her shoes on your feet for you.

"my prince charming." you giggle. she winks up at you.

"i'm the one in the fancy slippers now, babe. think that makes me cinderella."

sevika helps you stand, and you sigh in relief at the feeling of your feet flat on the pavement. "thank you, love." you say, kissing her cheek. sevika winks at you, then weaves her arm in yours.

"anytime, dear."you start your walk back with slow, careful steps, holding onto sevika's arm and eyeing her feet in your stilettos. but, after a few moments, sevika lets out a scoff and straightens her spine. "this isn't so bad." she giggles. "look, i bet i could even--" she jumps a bit, and you cringe as she does.

"sevika! be careful!" you laugh.

your wife giggles, then starts jogging ahead of you. "oh, babe, these are easy. fuck are you complaining for? look!" she starts a little jig. you're shaking your head in disapproval, trying your best to swallow back your laughs. but when sevika trips and falls face first into your neighbor's front yard, you can't help but cackle.

kofi

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @butchchase @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains

@ferxanda @helaenabugmom @spookymomfriendtm @leeidk87 @cinnamowor1d

[edensrose]

·˚꒰ 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓, 𝒉𝒖𝒉 ? ꒱ ₊˚ˑ

ᡴꪫ ﹙𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚! 𝙨𝙪𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙪 𝙭 𝙚𝙭 𝙜𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧.﹚─── ⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ he thought you'd love him forever. even in death. so why are you with satoru now? yk , his best friend? how could you. ( ˖ ࣪❀˳ ) : morbid possessiveness + yandere suguru, fucking creepy, violence → reader .

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ ( 𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒏'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 )﹕this has been on my mind for sooo long I'm sorry not sorry with how fucking creepy I made sugu boo

"Do you really have to go?"

"Sorry pooks. Promise I'll be back tomorrow."

". . . Actually. Stay outside."

His annoying laughter fills your burning ears. Cold lips catch your cheek in a heavy smooch while strong arms snatch your waist and yank you closer. Satoru hoists your body so ready to turn from him and drags you into his endless embrace.

"Aww come on, sweetheart. Weren't you just crying over me?" All you can do is roll your eyes as he buries his face into your shoulder. Hunched over you from behind with large palms encased on your waist.

You almost forgot the wane of your heart. Off he'll go to another mission. Leaving you lonely. But as always, he tries to make you smile. He knew you well enough to sense the dread in your voice. And if not? Then the plea in your eyes absolutely broke his heart.

"I was not crying."

"Yeah you werreee, oh, my poor baby."

He pinches on your cheek. Grins into your shoulder as you cast him a glare. "Whatever will they do without their big, strong boyfriend to keep them warm!?"

"Satoru."

You spin in his arms. Your palms find his face and he relents immediately. Like a puppy melting into a warm comforter. White lashes hang low and he stares at you through soft, cerulean hues.

What more can he do but turn his head and lay a kiss on your palm? Lower his voice to a tender croon. "I know. I know." His hands cup your face in turn. His thumb strokes assurances over your cheekbone. "But I'll be fine. Back before you know it too."

His kiss to your forehead does little to comfort you this time. Why? You're not too sure. Usually his gentle hold quells your clenched heart immediately. Eases any storm running rampant in your mind. Alas. This time, all you are able is to hug him for longer. Mumble a goodbye into his lips as he ventures out your apartment's door.

Anxiety, right? You know her well. She hasn't quite left since you saw his dead eyes.

Not what you should be thinking about right now. Alone at home. In the middle of the night.

The house is always so silent without Satoru. It reminds you of the period where loneliness is all you knew. Before he came back into your life. Before you both found comfort in one another to deal with your shared loss.

Of course you felt guilty. It ate at your soul and clawed at your heart. The hollow feeling only eased whenever your boyfriend lingered. Perhaps that's why you were extra clingy tonight.

With a sigh, you opt for dinner. The stove ignites. Herbs and spices flood your senses. Noise and warmth buzzes away your crawling skin. Food always served as the second best distraction whenever that white-haired cat wasn't around to cling to you.

A broth brews atop the stove while you finely chop an arrangement of vegetables. Miso ramen felt right tonight. Surely the warmth of a hearty soup coupled with chewy noodles would comfort you through this dreary shadow.

You can't help but wonder; why tonight of all days? You'd been doing so well lately. Ever since you picked up journaling, as recommended by Shoko, it's been a bit easier to deal with these thoughts. It's been years since that fateful day. Why can't you just get over it?

Maybe you're being too hard on yourself. How could you ever get over him? Suguru was the star and moon in your hands, and now, not even a shimmer is left in your palms. Long since has the bitterness of his defection and atrocities tainted your heart. The wound of his loss is still fresh, regardless of whether or not you admit it.

And now you're kicking around with his best friend? No wonder you feel as if he's haunting you. Who wouldn't? You swore to marry him, and now here you are. In another man's oversized shirt. Cooking with ingredients he got from the store for you. Anxious because he left you for the night. Knock -

What was that?

Your gaze shoots to the corner instinctively. The window stands in your vision. A tree branch the culprit. You exhale and place a hand on the counter, shut your eyes and groan at yourself.

There you go again.

Another sigh. You narrow your gaze onto the half-sliced carrots. As if it's their fault you cannot control your own mind. Was it so hard to simply switch off? The man's dead for crying out loud! Long since has the string between souls been severed.

So why do you feel a tug to your inner-being? Why - cree!

What's that?

You spin to the side. Eyes blown. Knife tight. The cupboard — it hangs half-open.

You suck a breath. Click your tongue. You'd told Satoru to take care of that. . . still, it's the last thing on your running mind. What's going on with you tonight? Just relax. Aren't you a sorcerer? Yet here you are, scared of a few sounds because you're alone at night.

You opt for the constant chop of carrots to fill your ears. Intentionally, you knock on the cutting board harder. Anything to distract yourself, even if it is with sound. Your mind buzzes into a new frequency. Emptying its endless guilty rampage as you hone all your senses into the mission at hand. Dinner.

Carrots, mushrooms, bok choy, all fall victim to your blade's intensity. A satisfying constant to keep your mind on loop. Away from the lapping anxiety so eager to swallow you whole.

Truth be told, your hearing should have numbed by now. To the rhythmic tones of chops and slices. But numbness stands fruitless to a call of the soul. It shakes your body back to consciousness. For the string that had been severed four years ago abruptly re-tethered. Strung from your innermost self. Strained. Strung.

Bleeding.

Behind you?

Pale hands. On the counter. Either side of you. Chills against your spine. Ice to your back. Everything stiffens. The clock's hands freeze. A presence? Satoru? No -

"So jumpy," a deep voice drawls to your ear. "Why's that? Missing someone?"

A curse.

His voice.

Muscles tense. Breath hitched. Colours bleed into each other — sounds become but a whisper. Nothingness. The knife in your hand lays idle and your wide eyes focus on the other two. On the right that slowly slips over yours. A cold thumb to your wrist. Soothing, like he always would.

"I hear your name is sweetheart now. My, what a shame. Here I thought you preferred darling."

You snap around. Blade equipped. Ready for whatever anomaly you are to face. The nerve of a curse to take on his voice. Like some sick, cruel j —

The knife clambers. All the strength fades from your body the second your eyes meet violet. Pale skin. Charming smile. No curse could ever replicate that. No vengeful being could come close to him.

Seeing things. You're seeing things. Hearing things. Then why does your heart wail? Why does your soul run red? "S . . ." His hand cups your face. Thumb to your cheekbone.

"Go on, darling. Say it for me."

There's no denying it.

Suguru Geto stands before you.

Memories flash. Tears well faster than your pummelling heart. You nearly throw yourself back into the counter. Its edge traps you. Much like his towered body. He leans in. Cursed energy makes you nauseous. This is no sorcerer. This isn't your Suguru.

But that's his smile. The amused lift of his brow as he cages you. The man leans further and cocks his head to the side. "Now what's all this? What an act. You were fine just a moment ago."

Rage. Hot, blistering. Fire floods those beautiful violets. His gorgeous face morphs. Eyes snap open. Whites bulging. Pearly like the fanged grin that splits his mouth. He shoves forward. Laughs.

"You were fine with him. You were perfectly -" he rasps. Ragged. Inhumane. "Perfectly. Fucking. Fine with Satoru."

This isn't your Suguru

"N-No - no -" you rasp. Shove your hands forwards. He shoves them down. You cry out. Squirm back and spill tears at the tears to your wrists. Claws?

"You're dead! You're dead! Suguru - you're not - you're dead!"

As if your words were incantations. As if they could bury whatever this was back in the grave.

Thump!

Your back hits the counter. Air - you can't - can't breathe —

Two hands clamp your throat. His weight's on you. Stare wide. Wild. Claws dig in. Maw hung in a horrific grin. His breath ragged. Your body cramps beneath his weight. You try to scream. Another hand slams to your mouth.

Eyes screaming malice. Hate. Deep and dark. Like your blood trickling. Your soul burning. His voice bleeds out. Pitched. Shaky. Unhinged.

"Then if I'm dead. Don't scream."

. ˚◞♡ 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕◞ ₊˚﹕@a-contemplation-upon-flowers

[kiefbowl]

Hi kief… what are your thoughts on prison abolition?

mixed. I'd love to see prison abolished, the theories around prison abolition are things that align with my values. however, I find prison abolitionists lacking answers in practical solutions to violence, especially with regards to gendered violence. the most sophomoric of the armchair theorists seem happy to believe in a fantasy that any individual crime is just a crime of poverty and completely unversed in the endless research on domestic violence. I'm not impressed with the idea that men who are acting out their paternal right to beat women can be reformed with...what, therapy? universal income? It seems often the solutions to these harder issues that fall outside of (or in conjunction with) systemic poverty and systemic racism are treated as an annoyance and inconvenience, and that with pressure to answer the "solutions" just sound like prison that looks nicer to a liberal. We won't imprison them in prison, we'll imprison them in a half way house. Run by whom? The state? Uhm. And who puts them there? No, not the police....the, uh, social workers. With extra legal powers. Who are employed by whom? The state? Uhm?? It's like the prison system with extra steps and nicer vocabulary that just seems destined to disintegrate into what we have now once funding runs out. You know...like everything.

And nothing gets my goat more than how flip some people can be to abused women who ask questions. If your response to a woman who asks "who do I call when my husband beats me" in response to abolishing police is some sort of snide "why would you call the police they statistically won't help you and will make it worse" is openly admitting the solution is for her to shut the fuck up. I hate the police, but call me a bootlicker one thousands times over I will never talk to an abuse victim like that. I will never tell her the one solution you can think of is stupid, and in the meantime stop bringing it up. I think abused women are incredibly inconvenient to prison and police abolitionists, and time and time again I see the most callous language thrown at them. So, if I'm to take someone's arguments seriously, I want to see them demonstrate some fucking concern about women's safety or else I'm just going to disregard them as not worth the consideration.

I always find it a useful exercise to ask if men are willing to consider first prioritizing women. Like for example: what about abolition of women's prisons to start? I think most leftist men would balk at that suggestion but why not?

[playstation-dreamcast]

Hi there! Love your writing A LOT, the way you write Wesker feels so natural that I can't get enough of him! Could I request a little smut? Maybe the first time he and his fem or gn s/o were together? Thanks a lot!

Awe, Thank you so much!! You can always request smut- I will never not be down tragically bad for this man lmao

Now Loading...

Character Selection: S.T.A.R.S Wesker X Reader

Synopsis: It started with you neglecting to check the weather, and ended in his bed. A butterfly flapping it's wings and causing a tsunami and all of that. (In other words, I'm really trying hard to make this title work cause I can't think of a better one lmao)

Content Warning: This story contains- shocker- explicit smut. Viewer discretion is advised.

You had Wesker completely wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even know it yet. To be fair, he didn’t have any idea yet either. He was still under the impression that he had any control in this song and dance the two of you crafted together. The one where you pretended you genuinely forgot your cigarettes- this definitely wasn’t just an excuse to share one with him, and where he pretended not to be absolutely obsessed with you. 

Tonight was Friday, which meant two things. Firstly, it was technically the start of the weekend. He had to say technically because while the S.T.A.R.S team had the weekends off on paper they were also on call 24/7, seven days a week. Which, he supposed was fair enough, 

considering what the team pretended to be. Secondly, it meant Wesker was closing the office tonight, but moreover it meant he was closing the office tonight with you. Something that was becoming a guilty pleasure of his, much to his dismay. He actually looked forward to seeing you- his favorite little medic- and that was going to cause complications later. 

That was a future problem though. For now, he was waiting on the front steps of the RPD for you, leaning against one of the pillars. He took a drag off of his cigarette and watched the smoke dance against the light of the full moon and tangle with the veil of clouds in the sky. He tried to remember if there was supposed to be a storm tonight, but drew a blank. Maybe something about a flash freeze?

“Hey Captain!” You said, finally coming out of the RPD and dragging him out of his thoughts before he could think about it too much, “Sorry for the hold up, I couldn’t find my keys for the life of me,” You admitted sheepishly.

He merely shrugged, taking another hit off of his smoke. “It’s no bother,” He muttered, going into his back pocket to pull out his pack of Marlboros, “I assume you’re about to ask for one?” He said, gesturing to the coffin nail dangling from his lip. 

You stopped him though, grinning ear to ear. “Actually, I brought my own this time!” You said, triumphantly showing off your new pack, “I remembered I was out for once!” 

Wesker's eyebrows went up, and you could tell he was almost impressed. “Remembered to buy your own cigarettes and found your keys on your own? You’re on a roll today.” He said flatly, hiding his little smirk when you pushed him. You took the dart from its pack, placing it in your lips while you patted yourself down for a lighter.

You were not pleased by what you were finding, or rather, what you weren’t finding. “Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me-” You grumbled to yourself.

Wesker’s eyebrow went up, “Looking for something?”

“No.” You said way too fast, only to immediately change your mind, “Yes. Can I bum a light off you?” You sighed, finally admitting your defeat. Wesker chuckled softly before handing you his Zippo, scratched, scruffed, and definitely showing its age. You opened the lighter and hit the wheel. Nothing. You tried again, and this time got sparks! But, not much else. 

After your third failed attempt you had Wesker's attention. “Need some help?”

“No, I know how to light a Zippo,” You huffed, ego feeling a little raw at this point. You tried striking it again. Zero, zilch, zippo. “Your lighter’s broken.”

Wesker scoffed at that. “It lit just fine for me,” he said, holding his hand out. You pouted as you placed the lighter in his palm. He went to light it for you. And got nothing but sparks himself. Odd. He tried flicking it again. Still nothing. He tried striking it against his cargos and still, produced absolutely nothing.

“Ha!” You laughed a little too triumphantly, “I told you it wasn’t user error!”

“I suppose you’re right,” He sighed, remembering how low the flame was when he lit his own smoke. He must have used the last of the fuel. He put the lighter back in his pocket before turning to you, “Alright, come here.”

He probably enjoyed the flustered look on your face a little too much as he leaned closer, pressing the cherry of his cig to yours, using his free hand to block it from the wind. You took in a sharp breath, successfully lighting the smoke, and looking a little too disappointed when he finally pulled away.

You let the smoke out of your lungs, lifting the cigarette up with an almost embarrassed smile. “Thanks Cap, couldn’t have done it without you.”

He chuckled softly and leaned back against his pillar. “It was a team effort, truly.” He said dismissively. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other's presence. And then it started to snow. 

Wesker saw you stiffen out of the corner of his eyes. “What?” he asked.

You looked at him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to,” He said, flicking his dead cigarette into the abyss, “I can tell somethings wrong.”

You almost got offended. “No way I’m that easy to read.”

Oh, Wesker loved a challenge. “Whenever you notice something but don’t want to “make a big deal out of it,” your poster improves and you size up. Then, you normally bite your lip- yeah like that,” You immediately stopped biting your lip once he pointed it out, “And you tend to get fidgety while you think of what to do.”

You scoffed at him, taking a long drag off your smoke, “Geeze, this isn’t a library, no need to read me like that.” You mumbled.

“You asked,” He shrugged, even if you technically didn’t, “So what’s wrong?”

You sighed and looked up at the sky. The flurry was getting heavy quick. “It’s snowing. I didn’t realize how cold it was outside, I’m…I’m not positive my car’s gonna start.”

You had Wesker's full attention now. “What?”

You looked down, embarrassment burning in your chest, “Yeah, my car is like, kind of falling apart. It doesn't like to start when it’s cold out for whatever reason.” You shrugged.

Wesker thought for a second, trying to think of explanations. “Have you checked th-”

“Yes, I’ve checked the battery. I got a new one and everything.”

His eyes narrowed, and your annoyed look was quickly replaced with an apologetic one. He licked his teeth before continuing. “I was going to say alternator, actually.”

Your embarrassment grew. “Um..what’s that do again?”

“It charges your battery.”

“Oh…No, I haven't checked that.”

Wesker almost laughed. It was cute, you were somehow both one of the smartest people he had ever met in his life- and the most flighty. It was part of what fascinated him about you. You were by no means incompetent, had he had seen you perform near miracles with some gauze and distilled water, not to mention how often the two of you got lost talking about whatever the hell came up. But the moment it wasn’t something traditionally academic or creative, you were out of your depth.

Some sick part of him really liked this side of you, because it convinced him you needed him, for moments exactly like this one. You depended on him. I’d tell you he’d go on to unpack all of this in therapy one day - but we both know that would be a lie.

“Come on,” He finally said, “Lets go look at your car.” You nodded, quickly finishing your cigarette before leading him to the old lemon that had gotten you around for the better part of a decade now. Wesker wasn’t shocked it was giving you problems- in reality, seeing this car run at all was the closest Wesker had ever gotten to believing in a God. Because only an act of divine intervention could get that rust bucket moving. 

He watched you get in the car and try to start it. And to the tin cans credit- it really did give it it’s all to try and start. But, the dim lights told Wesker everything he needed to know. He didn’t even have to pop the hood. 

He came over to your open driver's side door. “Pretty sure it’s the alternator. You’re going to need a jump.”

You looked up at him exhausted. “You got jumper cables?”

He probably did in his trunk. “Can’t say I do.” 

You groaned, dropping your head against the steering wheel. “Fuck, how am I supposed to get home?!” You lamented, hitting your head against the wheel again.

Wesker gently pulled you up and away from the wheel to sit properly in the seat, “I could always give you a ride home. We can come back with cables in the morning.”

You shook your head at that. “No way, I like like- an hour and a half from work.”

Wesker grimaced at that. The thought of making that drive there and back was a less that favorable one. But he’d do it for you. “I don’t mind taking you home if it means you’re safe.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m not going to make you do that.

“Okay, then why not stay with me tonight? I have a guest room you can use.”

He tried to make the question sound more spontaneous than it was. It was no secret that you and Wesker were closer than a typical boss and his employee ever should be- but a sleepover was crossing an unspoken but very well defined boundary. He couldn’t let you suspect the very true fact that he planned to offer his guest room to you from the moment you said your car probably wouldn’t start.

Your relationship up until this point had existed inside of plausible deniability. Yeah, you might have brought him lunch most days- but it was because he never took one otherwise and you were just worried about him. You’d do it for any S.T.A.R.S member. He didn’t actually give you special treatment, you just managed to piss him off the least out of all of them and if anyone said otherwise they could take it up with him. Yeah, the two of you lingered around the R.P.D well after closing on Friday nights, but it wasn’t to spend time with each other! No, it was for the smoke break, honest.

Yeah he might have stood a little closer to you than he needed when looking at something on your desk. Yeah, you might have lingered in his office longer than you should have after dropping off a report. Sure, he started buying extra cigarettes for you, and sure you had his coffee order memorized, and yeah maybe you both lived for the moments when your fingers brushed while exchanging papers. That might have all been true, but you would both deny it if ever asked about it. 

You couldn’t deny spending the night with him though. There was a certain level of intimacy needed to invite someone in your living space for the night, and there definitely wasn’t anything professional about it. No plausible deniability there.

You drummed your fingers against the wheel. “Yeah, okay.” You nodded, finally taking your keys out of the ignition, “Beats sleeping in my car.” 

🪫🪫🪫

You were almost ashamed to admit that you hadn’t expected the Captains house to be as inviting as it was. His home was lit in the warm light of tableside and floor lamps, and his walls had pretty art hanging in frames. “Wow, your house is really really nice.” You said, letting him take your jacket off of you.

He chuckled softly as he placed it on the coat rack, “Don’t sound so surprised.”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately went into ‘try to explain things, but make them worse instead” mode. “No no, I didn’t mean like- well what I meant was- You’re just not the kind of guy I expected to have like, a nice place. Not that you wouldn’t have a nice place! It’s just, your office is so sterile, and like, kinda hostile to be honest. And I just didn’t think you’d care to decorate your house, not in like a bad way, but in an I figured you’d find it kind of frivolous kinda way.”

He let you word vomit, leaning against the wall while you rambled. When you finally paused to catch your breath, he interjected. “I grew up in a…what was the word you used, “sterile?” I grew up in a sterile environment. I didn’t want to live like that once I had the choice not to.” He explained calmly. 

You got quiet. That was the most you’d ever heard about his childhood. A part of you wanted to pry, another much stronger part of you wanted him to continue to trust you enough to talk about it. “Sooo then what about your office?”

He shrugged. “I want my office to feel hostile. The less the team wants to be in there, the less I have to deal with you all.” He joked, but also kinda meant it. 

You nodded in understanding as he led you further into the home. “I get that, I think.” It made sense. The less you wanted to be in his office, they harder you’d try not to fuck up.

“I thought you might,” He muttered. He showed you around the house, the kitchen; bathroom; livingroom; and finally your room for the night. It was just as welcoming as the rest of the house, the plush bed and warm looking quilt inviting you to finally pass out for the night. And you would have, if not for the fact you were still in your uniform.

You turned to Wesker. “Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?” You asked bluntly. You’d already crossed the line into sleeping in the same house, might as well see how blurry the line could get. 

He looked surprised for all of a split second, before realising that not wanting to sleep in your work clothes was- in fact- not the most unreasonable request you could have made. He nodded, rubbing his own tired eyes from under his sunglasses. “One moment.” 

As Wesker went to fetch you something to sleep in, you took a moment to look around the room a little more. It was lit with the same low lights as the rest of the house, with thick blue curtains to cover the windows and a digital alarm clock on the bedside table. You took a second to peek out of the window to see the snow was really coming down now. Racoon City looked almost tranquil, covered in a sparkling white blanket. 

“Here you go,” Wesker said, startling you out of your thoughts as he re-entered the room, “These should fit well enough.”

You smiled as you took the folded clothes from him, “Thanks Captain.”

“Just, Wesker’s fine outside of work.” He said. The last thing he wanted was to think about the S.T.A.R.S team while he was at home. 

You nodded as you examined what he’d brought you. An old cotton band shirt, worn thin and soft with age, and a pair of basketball shorts you genuinely could not envision him in no matter how hard you tried. “I didn’t know you were a Rush fan,” You said with a playful grin.

He gave a soft smile in return, “Eh, it was the eighties. Who wasn’t a Rush fan?” 

You shrugged, “I just always took you as more of a Bowie guy.” 

“And why can’t I be both?”

“Fair enough,” you said as you sat the clothes down on the bed. “Thank you for this, I really do appreciate it.” 

He waved your gratitude off dismissively. “It’s no trouble. It’s my job to take care of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “As my Captain, right?”

He played it cool despite the fact you’d caught him in that slip. “Obviously.” He said with just enough condescension to make you feel like the stupid one here. “I’ll see you in the morning, Doctor.” He said before finally leaving you to change.

You quickly put on the sleep clothes. You tried to imagine Wesker ever wearing any of this in his day to day life. The Rush shirt wasn’t too hard, you could easily see him on his day off wearing it. If you really put your mind to it, you could almost imagine a younger Wesker at the Hold Your Fire tour, a wallflower at the back of the venue, listening to the music but resisting the allure of the crowd at every possible opportunity. It almost made you laugh.

The basketball shorts though you had no idea. It wasn’t that Wesker was an unathletic guy, quite the contrary actually. It was more that for as long as you had known him the most skin he had ever shown was his forearms and fingertips, not even his palms. You were at least 36% sure that if his knees ever saw the light of day he would actually explode. 

That being said, they fit you well enough, so you couldn’t really complain. And if someone saw you maybe press your nose into the shirt, taking a deep breath of his scent lingering on the fabric, you would simply gaslight them into thinking they were losing it as punishment for not minding their own business. 

You yawned as you crawled into the bed, the warm covers enveloping you. Wrapped in your little cocoon of safety, you were out within minutes. 

🪫🪫🪫

You were decently sure it was the wind pounding against the window that woke you up. Or maybe it was the nightmares again. Either way, the snow from earlier had picked up into a full on blizzard, and you were now, regrettably, awake. Looking over at the digital clock, you weren’t surprised it was 2:30 in the morning, but you weren’t happy about it either. It took you a second to remember where you were, and by the time you did you were already out of bed and on your way to the kitchen for water. Might as well commit now. 

You were half asleep as you padded down the hallway to the kitchen, when you noticed the sound of a tv. Now, if this was your own house this would mean literally nothing- it wouldn’t be the first nor the last time you had gone to bed without shutting it off. But, this wasn’t your house, it was Weskers. And he was the last guy that you ever expected to leave his tv on. So, naturally, you had to investigate. 

Luckily, you had to pass through the living room to get to the kitchen anyways. On the way you tried to seem as casual as possible, taking a quick glance over at the sofa and stopping dead in your tracks. Wesker sat on the couch, staring blankly at the tv while old reruns played. On paper there was nothing abnormal about the scene. Just a man in a tank top and grey sweatpants watching late night television to try and put himself back to sleep. Something you were willing to bet a hundred other people in the city were doing right now.

But those people weren’t Wesker. They weren’t your Captain. Something about seeing him like this- in such a domestic way- felt…Wrong. Voyeuristic. You imagined this was how the first person who held the Necronomicon felt; the adrenaline rush that comes with seeing something humans were never meant to see- along with the unease that came with seeing something humans were never meant to see.

You blinked to yourself. That all felt incredibly dramatic. You felt silly for thinking that far into it. At least, you did. That was until he looked at you, and you realized this was the first time you had ever seen him without his sunglasses. Suddenly, it didn’t feel dramatic enough. For some reason, you never imagined his eyes would be that blue.

“Oh, my apologies,” He muttered, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m pretty sure it was the storm that did it. I’m assuming that's what woke you up too?”

“You’re free to assume what you like.” He said as he turned back to the tv. That wasn’t really an answer, but you knew him well enough to know that meant he wasn’t going to give you an answer. 

“Mind if I join you?” You asked, the mission for water long abandoned in favor of getting closer to your Captain. There was a joke to be made about trading out one type of thirst for another, but that was low hanging fruit and you were better than that. Even if you were thinking it. 

He shook his head, gesturing to the free half of the sofa, “Not at all.” You smiled softly, moving to sit next to him and sitting probably a little closer than you really needed to. Not that he minded. You still tried to maintain a respectful distance though. The last thing you needed to do was embarrass yourself by throwing your body at the Captain like a pushy salesperson at a perfume kiosk.

The thing is, you didn’t try very hard to keep your distance. You were drawn to him like a neodymium magnet to iron. Your body naturally wanted to curl up against his warmth and fall asleep listening to the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat. You focused on the tv, yet still failed to actually pay attention to any of it. You were just trying to distract yourself from the need to curl up in Wesker's lap like a needy cat. 

You realized how hopelessly you had failed when his arm draped around you, trapping you securely in the crook of his arm, pressed into his side. Wesker said nothing as he did it, as if it was just totally normal and cool for him to cuddle with a subordinate. The thought of questioning him briefly popped into your mind before you quickly smothered it to death. If you started asking questions, he would move- and you really didn’t want that. You nestled into him instead. 

You looked back at him, still taken aback by the look of him without his sunglasses. His sharp features were illuminated by the blue glow of the TV, accentuating his high cheekbones and the slope of his nose. His hair was messy- far from the immaculate slicked back style you were used to seeing it in- and yet it still managed to look perfect. As if even his bed head was intentional. You wouldn't be surprised. Everything about him was intentional.

You still couldn't get over his eyes. You had always assumed they were some shade of blue, but his sunglasses hid just how cerulean they really were. And just as sharp as every other part of him was, fully capable of cutting a king in half with one disapproving squint. Cold, but almost unbearably human, and looking straight at yo-

Oh God he was looking at you. When did he start looking at you?! That wasn’t allowed! You looked away, hoping that he’d let it go. 

You snapped your eyes away so fast you missed the smirk that danced over his lips. “Oh, are you playing shy now?” He asked.

You maintained near unblinking eye contact with the screen. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He chuckled softly, low and deep in his chest. “So you’re playing stupid now too. Interesting strategy.” You felt the knuckle of his forefinger hook under your chin, pulling your face to look at him, and you felt your entire body catch fire. “Mmm. Not a good look on you though. You’re far too smart to ever do it convincingly.” 

“I beg to differ.” You muttered. You wondered if you had ever actually woke up, or if this was another one of your dreams. 

He smirked. “I’d love to hear that.”

You were definitely asleep. That was the only explanation. Every other part of yours and Weskers’ relationship developed over months, and in one night it felt like it was going from like, 55 to 100. His thumb traced your bottom lip, eyes staring at your mouth while he contemplated his next move. 

Finally, his eyes met yours again. “I find you captivating, Doctor,” He finally said, “I don’t think anyone has managed to capture my attention in quite the way that you have.”

You felt your chest swell with pride. Weskers’ praise had always been like a drug to you, and it was only amplified by the intimacy the two of you were creating. “Thank you Captain,” You muttered back, “I feel similarly about you.”

His head tilted to the side. “Do you?” He asked. You hummed your confirmation, and his smirk grew. “Good.” in the span of a breath his lips were on yours, catching you fully by surprise. You tensed, only to slowly melt against him. His mouth was surprisingly soft, and moved against yours with an expertise that made you jealous. You wanted to curse everyone he had ever kissed before you, and never wanted to think about him kissing anyone after you. 

Wesker pulled you closer, his teeth digging into your bottom lip and using your small gasp to deepen the kiss. It was like he knew you were spiraling into jealousy, and knew exactly how to drag you back out of it. Finally, you remembered you had hands, reaching up and tangling your fingers in his soft, short hair. You gave an experimental tug, earning you a soft moan from him. Noted.

He fully pulled you into his lap, sweatpants doing absolutely nothing to hide how you affected him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning in and letting yourself fall into rhythm with him. You felt one of his hands slide under your shirt to rest against the small of your back, and you were pleasantly surprised by how warm it was. He nipped at you again before moving, kissing your jaw and down to your neck.

You tilted your head to the side to give him room to work, moaning softly as he found that sweet spot that always electrified you. Teeth got involved after that, scraping against your skin as he kissed his mark, his claim, onto you. Your head was spinning. Of course you’d thought about Wesker like this before, but you never thought it would actually happen. You assumed your relationship was relegated to awkward office tension that would never be acted upon for fear of HR. It didn’t feel real, having Wesker pull you closer to him while he dug his teeth into your neck. You’d never been more thankful for snow in your life.

He pulled away, looking over his work. A sick grin found its way onto his face as he admired the way his bite mark looked against your otherwise untouched skin. He decided then and there it looked far too pretty on you for him to ever let it fade. He decided then and there that you were his. 

He pulled your attention back to him with a short, yet demanding kiss. “I just realized I never finished showing you the house.” He said in a voice that was far too composed for your liking.

“Wh…what?” You asked, a little breathless and a lot worked up, “So?”

“I never showed you my room.”

OHHHHHH okay, that made more sense. You nodded eagerly enough that it would have been embarrassing had you known shame. “You should do that actually. You should do that right now.” Wekser smiled at you adoringly. So cute, so eager, and so so unaware. He found it almost comical that the bunny was begging the wolf to see its den. He wondered if you’d be so willing if you knew that he was just another Judas in disguise. 

Probably not. He stood up, easily lifting you as he did. Instinctively your arms and legs wrapped around him, clinging onto him for fear of falling. Not that you had anything to fear. He picked you up as if you were nothing, his arms were steady and safe and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you swoon a little. He easily carried you to the room at the end of the hallway, and you felt yourself stir with the realization of how close his room was to the one he’d given you for the night.

Before you knew it you were on your back, being pressed into his silk sheets as he kissed your neck. You rolled your hips into his, only for him to grab you, dragging you flush against him so you could feel exactly what you were doing to him. He kissed down your body, setting every place his lips touched you on fire, even though the thin fabric of the old shirt you had on. Of his old shirt you had on.

He pulled the basketball shorts you were wearing off, wanting absolutely zero barrier between him and your perfect thighs. You squirmed as he kissed the inside of your legs, leaving clear evidence of him on every inch of skin he could. He wanted you covered by the end of the night. Finally, he made his way to where you wanted him the most. 

You felt his breath over the thin fabric of your panties, licking the already incredibly noticeable wet spot there. Your body tensed with anticipation, with want. He nuzzled into you, licking up your clothed slit again, and you waited for him to finally take your underwear off. You waited.

And waited. “Wesker please-” You begged softly.

He seemed to like that, looking up at you with wicked eyes from between your legs. “Please what, Dear?” He asked, the pet name sending a whole nother wave of arousal through you.

“Wesker, come on, just- please-” You were frustrated. He wasn’t really going to make you say it, was he? That was kind of embarrassing.

“Please what Dear?” He asked again, a little more forcefully this time, “What do you want?”

Bastard. “I want you.” You whimpered.

“I’m right here.” Bastard.

“I- I want your mouth, “ You finally said despite the embarrassment burning your chest, “Fuck, I want your mouth so bad.”

He seemed pleased, a self satisfied smirk on his face while he finally finally pulled your panties down. He licked along your soaking folds, pulling a near pornagraphic moan from you. He wasted little time, finding your clit and wrapping his warm, welcoming mouth around it. He licked his name into the bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure through you with every expert stroke of his tongue. 

Your hands found his hair, tangling into the short strands and pulling him closer to you, bucking your hips into him to ride his face. At least, you tried to. He placed his forearm over your hips, locking you into place and leaving you to moan helplessly while you took exactly what he gave you, no more, no less. You felt dizzy, lightheaded and spinning as you got lost in the bliss, your legs started to tremble in preparation for the oncoming orgasm.

You gasped as you felt one of his long fingers easily enter you, quickly followed by a second. He used his middle and ring finger, curling them up and directly into your g-spot, coaxing your climax out of you with every expert stroke. The added stimulation sent you reeling, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as he brought you to the peak. 

Every movement set you on fire, every lick reeling, every stroke screaming. You could feel a coil tightening in your stomach, ready to snap. You could see the peak, and one final sharp suck against your clit pushed you over. You saw stars explode in front of your eyes and the knot in your stomach snapped, drowning you in dopamine and euphoria. You felt like you were in free fall, your entire body alive with sparks as he worked you through it all. 

Finally, as you started to come down he pulled back. You were still recovering when you felt him touch you again, this time pulling you up and tugging your shirt off. You weren’t sure when he took off his own clothes, and honestly you weren’t that worried about it. You were just happy to finally get a peek at what he was working with. 

Just five seconds ago you would have never described a cock as “pretty.” But, you couldn’t think of a better way to describe Weskers. Long and thick, with a pretty pink tip leaking with need. The thought occurred to you that in a different life, he would have made a killing as a porn star. You weren’t sure why you were like this. 

You didn’t have time to think about it either, Wesker gave you one rough, quick kiss before pushing you back down onto the bed. He pulled you closer to him, taking your ankles and holding them in a wide V. He kneeled in front of you, taking in every detail of your body and committing it to memory. He didn’t think it was an exaggeration to say you were one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen; especially laid out like this.

Exposed, vulnerable, and aching for him. “You’re beautiful you know,” He mused, “breathtakingly so. And you’re all fucking mine.” He punctuated his point by thrusting into you, all at once and leaving you with no room to adjust. You screamed, clenching around the sudden intrusion and pulling a beautiful moan out of Wesker. You could see his shoulders relax for a second, your warm welcoming cunt pulling the tension right out of him.

He was never going to give you up. You were perfect. “Like you were made for me.” He groaned, setting a pace that left you light headed. The natural curve of his cock was perfect for him to bully your g-spot, and the current position you were in gave him the leverage to fuck places you didn’t even know existed inside of you. You quickly felt another coil start to form in your stomach, already sensitive from before.

It didn’t take long for you to realize you weren’t going to last long, your limbs already tingling with anticipation. “Fuck, Al, you feel so good.”

He felt the air rush from his lungs when you said that. Did you even realize you used his first name? He could hardly remember the last time anyone called him Albert, let alone Al- considering the loving familiarity that often came with a nickname. Furthermore, he couldn’t remember the last time someone said his name and he liked it. 

Something inside him snapped, and before he knew it he was folding you in half, throwing your ankles over his shoulders and pressing his body weight into yours to try and get closer to you. “Say it again,” he said, hand coming to rest on your neck, “Say my name.” He was desperate to hear it from you again. It sounded so pretty coming from your lips.

You took in a sharp breath, this new angle giving him a more direct path to your sweet spot. “Al!” You groaned, head filling with stars as you lost yourself in him, “Albert, Al, fuck-” You’d say whatever he wanted you to if it met he wouldn’t stop. 

He felt drunk, his entire body alight with need. His hand on your throat tightened, and he pressed a demanding kiss into your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth in an attempt to claim every single atom that made you up. He bit your lip so hard you thought you might have tasted blood before he pulled up. “You’re mine,” he growled, “Do you understand that? Mine.” 

“Yours,” you confirmed, “Only yours.” You were so sweet, so compliant. If you kept this up, he wasn’t ever going to let you go home.

What was he even saying?

You were home.

You felt yourself snap, flying off the ledge at 100 miles an hour as your second climax of the night hit you like a truck. Your entire body trembled as you were hit with wave after wave of ecstasy, mind going blank as entire galaxies exploded before your eyes. It brought Albert to his own peak, the feeling of you fluttering around him and the sound of you screaming his name pulling him over the ledge. He pressed his hips fully flushed against yours, cumming as deep inside you as he could get- consequences be damned.

He fucked you through both of your highs, only stopping when his body physically forced him to. He just barely avoided collapsing on you, falling to your side instead. He held you close while the two of you caught your breath, and you cringed a little when he finally pulled out. He pulled you to his chest, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. It was quiet for a second while the two of you basked in your afterglow.

It was you who broke the silence. “Soooo…” You asked.

“So?” He asked back, debating a smoke. 

It was like you read his mind. “Does this mean I don’t have to worry about buying my own cigarettes anymore?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, because only you would ask ‘what are we’ like that. “Well talk in the morning,” he said, “For now, you should probably try and sleep.” You nodded in agreement, curling into his side. And in mere minutes, you had drifted into the most restful sleep you had gotten in ages.

[cooliocumbucket]

WY@

summary: what happens when you're caught during the invincible war by no goggles before he demolishes the guardians and you're "unfriendly" exes in his dimension.

notes: brent faiyaz and no sleep were the inspirations behind this one 🫡

shiesty mark and no!goggles mark are personal faves of mine but I'm sure if i wrote no!goggles like how he's seen 🤔 extra content for them regardless!

feel free to still request!

no goggles!mark x female!reader

tags: dubious consent, rough sex, female!reader, praise kink, mdni, 18+, light angst

i be doing shit i really shouldn't do fr....

"You know you are impossible to keep track of, man!" The alleyway your hunter had you cornered in seemed to grow tighter the further you ran, anywhere literally anywhere seemed to be better.

The dead-end made the reality of your situation feel even more damning and you grappled with what you were turning to face.

Invincible.

"I think you should probably stop there or are you gonna phase through the wall, Kitty Pryde?" He laughed at his own joke as your eyes frantically searched for an exit.

You knew Invincible, of course, you knew the insanely powerful superhero who flew around your city with freedom you wish you had but without the burden of lives, he insisted on saving.

This deranged bizzaro version that stood in front of you, wasn't him, however, and the familiarity he seemed to have with you made it even clearer.

"What is it with you and taking off, dude!?" Invincible asked and your brain flipped through memories to pinpoint when you'd been in the same vicinity.

"I thought with dimensions there were supposed to be like differences?" He pondered out loud, "Subtle but not so subtle shit across the multiverse you know?"

He was floating at first before his feet planted to the ground and personal space didn't exist between you anymore.

He tugged at a loose string on your t-shirt, his touch sending a shiver down your back.

Tears involuntarily began to stream down your face as death seemed to be an edge you were insanely close to teetering over.

"What the fuck are you crying for?" Invincible narrowed his eyebrows together in confusion, "If I wanted to hurt you, you'd be hurt, duh." He rolled his eyes like it was obvious. As if your heart wasn't going to beat out of your chest and explode on the ground at his feet from anxiety.

Your silence must've bothered him, Invincible inspecting your face even closer.

"You don't got anything to say?" He prodded, terrified blinking your response as he grew slightly frustrated.

"Come onnn, say something!" Invincible urged electricity in his eyes.

"Are you really not going to hurt me?"

"Hmmm I could,"On the spot, he wrapped a hand around your throat and you regretted ever learning how to speak, "It wouldn't take like any effort for me to crush your windpipe and pop your head off." You braced for him to do what he described instead he touched his forehead on yours.

"But killing you quick would defeat the purpose of finding you, ya know?"

Without thinking you shoved him as hard as you could from your space, a sudden boldness coursing through you that should've sealed your fate.

Instead he went back to gazing at you, the push having no effect on him in any capacity.

"How the fuck do you know who I am!?" There were plenty of other things you could've asked but your brain was barely processing this interaction to think of them.

Why did it have to be you?

Why were you targeted by the lunatic?

"If two plus two equals four, and portals equal multiple me's then the answer to your question would beee," He grinned at you expectantly, as if you were on a game show.

Like he hadn't just threatened to take your head from your neck.

Deciding to engage him, in the hopes it'd buy you more time you gulped back nerves.

"You're an Invincible who was close with a different me?"

"Ding, ding, ding! We have a lady with common sense!"

"But like in what way?"

'There's no way in hell I was dating this guy' you thouht to yourself, unaware of how wrong you were.

"Now there's a question you should've been asked, dude." His casual nature scared you more than a domineering presence could, in instant it could be switched- the blood that stained his hands was proof, his entire demeanor was proof of it actually.

"We were big-time in love, super duper committed to each other where I'm from, "He pointed between your bodies,"You wouldn't see either of us without the other type spiel."

"Whirlwind high school sweethearts who followed each other to college and what was supposed to be onward to the stars," Invincible prattled on, pumping up the dramatics the more he spoke, the back of his hand pressed onto his forehead for effect. "I loved you more then air, then blood and gore, then-"

"What-" Before you could finish, his hand was already moving making you clamp your mouth closed. The soaring punch he landed on the brick wall behind you crushed the structure the impact of his fist leaving a mini crater. Through your peripheral vision you could see multiple crumbles of cement fall and your feet could feel the reverberate just from how powerful his punch was.

This felt like warning number two.

"You should never interrupt anybody when they're talking, it's like really rude." He spoke deathly serious with a pout that rivaled a puppy dog's.

"I'm sorry." You said shaking, the apology's purpose to placate him but he wasn't easily swayed.

"No, you're not."

"I am." You begged, almost believing yourself but you knew he truly didn't.

That flip was switched again and he was grinning once more.

"Nah you know you're not." The intense gaze he bore into you continued, your eyes drifting for a second and he gripped your chin in place, still smiling, "You aren't different from my y/n at all, and she never meant any apology she gave." Releasing your chin he cracked his neck in boredom, eyes shifting up at the darkening sky.

"You know I'm getting the vibe you aren't interested in what I'm saying, and its honestly super hurtful." Gulping you figured that if the option to talk to him was removed the other one he was thinking wasn't pleasant.

"No I care!" You blurted out, Invincible looking at you without belief.

"You sure you want me to finish?" You thrashed your head up and down making him shrug his shoulders, "Alright, man."

"I made a mistake like any person does, "He waved his hand absent-mindedly, "I killed a couple thousand people and then suddenly it was like a ghost town with us, pun intended."

"You abandoned me, told me you'd love me no matter how much blood I had to spill and then shat on those words like it was nothing. Like what we had was nothing." He couldn't keep the bitterness from his tone even if he tried, his eyes downcast for a second in memory."But at least this time we're starting on an honest foot, hotness."

"Honest foot?"

"You think I did all that work of tracking you down for fucking fun?" Invincinble shook his head with a toothy grin, "I mean I kinda did but without me loving you I'd have no motivation, baby."

"But you just said I abandoned you."

"Yeah, that doesn't mean I don't want you."He scoffed, pursing his lips, "Who in love doesn't have problems?"

To you, you were strangers and to him you were his second chance at control.

"I don't even know you're name."

"It's Mark, Markkk,"He sounded out the syllables, slow. "Say Mark, come on you can do it."

"Mark?" You tested it on your tongue with hesitation but He swooned out loud still, unable to resist kissing you.

His lips crashed against yours, all logic being lost in how passionately he kissed you.

It wasn't gentle or slow he threw all of his emotions onto you at once. His movements were hungry and frenzied each twist of his tongue searching for more of your mouth to taste.

You tapped at his chest for a breath but he only held you tighter moaning into your mouth with a desperation that had you tightening your thighs. The print in his suit rubbed against your front in a sinful rhythm, your pussy becoming wetter by the second.

A thin trail of saliva was your only connection when you finally broke apart but he hadn't dropped his arms from the embrace.

"You never could hold out on me for long!" He bit his bottom lip hard with excitement, "Let's give that you're not the same theory a test."

i think this time i'll be through fr....

"You're soooo good," He slurred his words with so much happiness, dick covered in your cream from how fast and hard he was moving.

Your cheek was smushed against the wall he punched and you could barely keep your balance as he fucked you like a toy.

"Pleaseee," You couldn't get your request out as you came once more, body squirming from good you felt.

Straining to watch your fucked out face, you could hear his frustrated tsking.

"You know this position isn't any good for some face time." Mark flipped you with ease, back hitting the wall as he slid easily in practically purring from how slick your pussy felt.

"Muchhh better." His mask was off and you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. The darkness in his eyes still hadn't left and what scared you was how it was beginng to spur you on.

"Nobody can ever take me like you can," He panted feverishly, fingers gripping your neck to keep control, "Ever."

"You hear that?" your wetness spoke for you but he still forced your jaw open with his thumb, spit on his hand, "I know you heard my question, what I say about being rude?" Your wrapped your legs around his waist tighter as he slammed you up and down his length on repeat.

"I do!" You sobbed walls clenching around his dick, feeling so full. You'd never been fucked with this much intensity and it was overwhelming.

"Who did that?"He forced your neck down, your eyes stuck on how much of your cum covered his girth.

"You did-" You whimpered gasping when he snapped his hips at a different angle.

"I think it was a team effort." He murmured teasingly in your ear before biting it, strokes becoming sloppier. Your hands rested on his shoulders then went up to hold onto something.

Mark twitched inside you from the sensation of your pulling his hair, and you found yourself hoping he'd fill you to brim with cum.

"Pull it some more," Your fingers sunk into the back of his hair, and you tugged but it wasn't enough,"Harder, as hard as you can!"

You felt like you were about to rip his hair out but as his eyes rolled to the back his head and his thrusting grew more hurried you knew he was close.

Sinking his teeth into your neck as he came, nut dripping onto the ground from how much it was he still continued to fuck into you.

You were just getting started.

[peppermint-whiskers]

Heyyy!

So @emositecc made me realize that we could totally share the first drafts/snippets I wrote when we were still planning the Mind Wipe AU. Here's the first version of The Reveal(tm) as a treat ;3 Plus art by emo!!

(this is like the third snippet in the snippets doc ahdjebd)

“Why, can't you tell?” Alastor laughed. He looped an arm around Pen’s arm, which earned a flinch from the man. “Don't tell me you don't recognize him.” Charlie looked from Alastor to Pen. Confusion warred in her head—what was he getting at? “Alastor, this is our friend. What—” “And I suppose friends lie to each other.” He shook his head sadly. Pen started shaking, his eyes wide and full of terror. “I'm so sorry you had to find out this way, dear Charlie, but your friend ‘Pen’ is none other but Sir Pentious in disguise.” No. No, that couldn't be right. Sir Pentious was dead, and Pen was— But the look on his face. Utter devastation—had he lied to her? She thought she could trust him. Why would . . . ? “Liar!” Vaggie snarled. “You've got a motive for this, Alastor, I just know it!” “Ask him yourself!” Alastor exclaimed. “I'm sure he'll tell you all about it, won't you, my friend?” All eyes turned to Pen. He flinched under their scrutiny and opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Vaggie’s shoulders drooped. Charlie's own heart sank at the impending realization that one of her best friends was lying to her this entire time. “Pents is dead,” Angel snarled. “Cut the shit, Al!” He took an angry step forward, but Husk quickly held him back. If he was offended by any of this, Alastor didn't show it. “Do you remember his first reason for coming to the hotel, Charlie? He was sent to spy on us, wasn't he?” “N-no!” Pen screamed. “It's not—” “And he's doing the same thing now.” “I swear I'm not!” “He is the link Heaven needs to sink your precious hotel to the ground.” Static buzzed around Alastor, and he held Pen’s arm tighter than before. “If he can continue to get away with it, just think what the seraphim might do.” Charlie locked her teary eyes with Pen’s. “Tell me it's not true,” she gasped. “Pen—no, I don't—” “Don't believe him, please don't believe him,” Pen begged. “It's not—I’m not—” A bomb suddenly exploded in front of Alastor, one that exploded in red and white streamers. Cherri stepped forward, an angry gleam in her eye. “Step the fuck back!”  His grin widening, Alastor complied. “Certainly, but I would think I was doing a service to you.” She ignored him. Instead, she turned to Pen, who was clutching his neck with one hand and pulling at his collar with the other. “Pen,” she said, her tone lowering in an attempt to calm her boyfriend. “What the hell is going on?” “I'm—” Pen shook his head desperately. “Cherri, I can't—” He couldn't do it. Something blocked his throat—held his tongue so that he couldn't speak in his defense. And while his ears rang and his skin ran cold, Alastor continued spilling horrible lies.  He was always going to betray you, he said with a smirk. He won't even speak in his own defense because he knows it's all true, he said with the fakest sympathetic smile. Heaven sent him to spy on us, to stomp us out, he growled with a grin that was all teeth. And—and Pentious couldn't speak. He couldn't speak, and he watched with horror as the faces of his friends, of his loved ones, morphed from confusion to anger and betrayal. He couldn't breathe—he couldn't breathe— Charlie's eyes filled with tears. Cherri’s face twisted into something confused and hurt. He couldn't stay anymore— Opening a portal in a panic, Pentious ran away from the hotel, from his friends and girlfriend, from the horrible lies spilling from that horrible smile. He ran away and immediately ran into Sera. Oh, this is worse . . . He couldn't bear to look up at her, but Pentious managed to force his eyes up to meet hers. She looked angry—furious. “What. Happened?”

[pyrographic-memory]

Holy shit, great to see the internet imploding once again lmao (srsly I'm also pouring one out for the discord mods holy fuck. I joined that server when it was at 17k people and THAT was already too many people for me...)

So uh. I know my * post * talking about us seeing Vessel prepare for war didn't blow up quite as much as my tritanopia post (still fucking stoked about that actually sosjehshjwh), BUT I am happily back again with the military jargon breakdown!

I'm going to say now, everything I mention here is declassified, you can find it with a Google search. Please don't freak out on me lmao

The Morse code from the Pan and Echo audio files was summed up into eight lines of dialogue (for lack of a better word).

At first I thought it was a 9 Line, which is a call for medevac report, due to the SOS. But it is missing a ninth line, so I asked a friend of mine what they thought. And they said it looks like a weird mix of two report formats: BLUE 2 and GREEN 6.

BLUE 2 is SITREP, or situation report - rather self explanatory. Brief summary of threat activity, then you list off how ready your men and your vehicles/equipment are, and then you give a summary of The Gameplan.

GREEN 6 is EPW (enemy prisoner of war)/Captured Material Report. You've executed The Gameplan, and you've captured people and stuff. This one is a two-parter technically, because you list off who you've captured first and then what you've captured (this can include land and buildings, so like if you captured a hilltop or castle or smth), you state the unit that did the capturing, when the capture happened, and a brief summary of how you did it.

So now, we break the message down. The first two lines don't really align with any report, so we'll focus on 3 onward.

Line 1: "I've been waiting long for you"

Line 2: "Behold"

Line 3 (friendly locations as from a BLUE 2): WA and RL, which ended up being WRAL, which is the news channel for Raleigh, NC (NORTH CAROLINA BABY, LET'S GOOO). Their meteorologist made a * post * about 3/29 on Instagram.

Line 4 (DTG [Date Time Group] of capture, as from the second half of a GREEN 6): "Two days in the morning", two days from now it'll be 3/29, AND there's a partial solar eclipse that day (though it's very close to full), and where the eclipse will be most prominent over the Atlantic, it'll be at maximum around 10:47 AM UTC. So the DTG would be written as 291047MAR2025.

Line 5 (place of capture, as from a GREEN 6): "In Arcadia"

Line 6 (circumstances of capture, as from a GREEN 6): "Carpe" (Latin for "seize")

Line 7: "Broadcast interruption, nothing"

Line 8: SOS SOS SOS KN AS

Everyone knows the mayday call. But KN and AS are CW radio signs (telegraphing, Morse code, all that shit they used in both world wars). KN means "only the station named should respond", and AS means "wait". The broadcast was interrupted, but the broadcaster didn't hear anything from the interruption. They're still calling for help because the interruption means someone is listening in when they shouldn't be, so the broadcaster may be compromised, and they're asking for an answer from whoever they were broadcasting to before saying "wait" (maybe as in "don't send rescue immediately").

Now, let's look at something else rq. The metadata of the audio files.

Uploaded by: The Observer

Another report to mention: BLUE 1, SPOTREP. These are written up when scouts observe any known or suspected threat activity in the AO (area of operation).

And I want to amend rq, the emails from a few weeks ago with the respective wording: House Veridian "observe", and Feathered Host "seize".

This is a House Veridian SPOTREP of a Feathered Host SITREP/capture broadcast, probably done by our Observer doing what the green bois call channel hopping, and the Broadcaster not securing their comms line.

I really want to know who Vessel knows. Cuz while ts is available to the public, you gotta know someone who can tell you that these report documents even exist. The US Army has like a thousand reporting documents, something for everything. Every country does a lot of this stuff differently and has differing names for it, but I just find it really neat that it seems to be US-based (unless the UK military also operates this way 👀👀👀)

[billthedrake]

LINEAGE (PART TWELVE)

I had to work late one day, and I came home to find Braden playing video games with the older boys, while the twins were crawling around in the family room. Brade was hunky as hell in his favorite faded T-shirt from the local NFL team and his PT shorts, furry legs stretched out barefoot as he got into trying to beat Keith. What made him more alluring was his natural, easy fatherhood. He was SO good with the boys, nurturing and a masculine role model for them. I had to consider myself the luckiest father in the world and was thankful I was a family man.

My son-husband paused the game then looked up at me. His face silently communicating something was serious. "Hi Dad... You should go check on Bill."

"Oh," I said. I was going to ask if it was serious, but I realized Braden didn't want to bring it up around the boys.

I made my way through our mansion to where Junior's room was. A guess flashed through my mind. Since that first magical date night, I'd pulled back some from Junior. Not emotionally, but we'd had less one-on-one time the week and a half since. I thought Junior knew why: his Daddy and I was trying for another pregnancy, and I'd focused my sexual energy there. I'd given Junior a couple of quick blowjobs before he went off to school, and I'd rimmed him a couple of times while he jerked off. But that was it.

The door wasn't completely closed now, but it was mostly shut. I gave a knock. "Can I come in, buddy?"

"Yeah, Dad," came the defeated reply.

Junior was still in his knit shit and golf shorts from practice, his favorite cap pulled down where the brim rested above the eyes. He was a good way into his senior year, and Junior already was rocking an impressive college-jock build. In other circumstances I'd be joining him in bed, making out with my special dude. But something was wrong, I could see a lot of worry in his eyes.

Instinctively, I shut the door. "What's wrong, kiddo?" I asked.

"I fucked it up, Dad," Junior said. "Just as we were getting close, I fucked it up."

I came and sat on the bed, placing my hand on Junior's strong leg where the soft hairs were starting to come in. "Why don't we start at the beginning?" I asked.

He nodded, and I could tell he was holding back tears. Maybe he'd been crying all afternoon. "I've been using protection, honest. But I guess the condom broke..." He paused. "Well, I know the condom broke. I didn't think it would be a big deal. But Mr. Carson called today, and he's pregnant, and I don't what to fucking do..."

"Tim Carson?" I asked. "Alex's Dad?" Alex was Junior's teammate and good friend. I tried not to sound judgmental, but I was just genuinely surprised to the point I thought maybe there was another Mr. Carson.

Junior nodded, emotion heavy. "It's messed up. Alex is weirded out, and Mr. Carson's upset. You can ground me, Dad... I've just been worried you'll break up with me."

I patted his leg, and began caressing the short hairs more affectionately. "I'm not breaking up with you, Junior," I assured him. "But you gotta man up and be there for Mr. Carson. And your son. Doesn't matter how awkward things are."

"I know, Dad. And I will." His voice got quiet. "I've been dreaming of being a Dad, but fuck, I didn't expect it to be like this. So soon, you know."

"I know, kiddo," I said. I figured this was the good time to tell Junior. "You know... when I fathered your Daddy... that was an unplanned pregnancy."

"For real?" Junior asked. I was surprised he hadn't put two and two together, doing the math between my and Braden's age. But my husband and I made sure that our boys saw loving parents, so maybe it just didn't occur to him.

"I was even younger. 16 and a dumb teen dad," I said self-deprecatingly. "But Braden turned out to be the best thing in my life... even better because he gave me five amazing sons, who were planned."

"Dad..." Junior's voice was getting heavy.

"I won't lie, kiddo, raising a kid is hard work."

"I know, Dad. I'm ready."

I patted his leg again. "Attaboy." Everything about Junior then was making me fall for him, as completely as I had Braden at that age. "So," I winked, trying to provide some levity. "Just one broken condom and your swimmers got it done, huh?"

It was a relief to see Junior's smile. "Guess so."

"You know..." I continued, running my fingers up Junior's leg, beneath the hem of his shorts. "If you were a true Drake man, you'd get a boner just thinking about the fact you knocked a guy up."

I could see the gears turn in Junior's head. The realization and the surprise that I was giving him permission to feel sexual right now. Permission to embrace the turn on maybe he didn't know was there.

I watched Junior get stiff in his shorts. For our time exploring each other the last month, I'd only watched his hardon form once from start to full erection. I was watching it now and it was beautiful. Especially because Junior's eyes went from his crotch to my face and back.

"I guess I'm a Drake man, all right," he hissed in lust.

"Fuck yeah, you are buddy," I growled and leaned in to kiss him.

This felt different than before. Not only had Junior upped his kissing game, copying the technique I'd coached him on over date night, but we were peers in a strange way. Fellow dads.

His hands were on my feeling my dress shirt beneath my suit as we got into it.

"God I love you, Dad. So fucking much," Junior hissed as I removed my shoes and got up onto bed with him. "I've just been worried sick you'd break things off."

"I know, Junior," I said, running my hand along his built chest. "Listen, I gotta be the dad sometimes," I said. "But you're a man on your own right now. And I care for you like crazy."

He had an adorable checked smile on his face. "I just knew you'd be mad at me."

"You gonna give me a reason to be?" I arched my eyebrow.

"No, sir," Junior laughed.

I gave an appreciative nod. I leaned in and whispered into his ear. "Maybe I can taste that breeding cock of your son."

"God yes," he answered in a croak and was already fiddling with his shorts. Maybe one of these days we'd get a more equal dynamic for who would initiate sex and when, but for now Junior deferred to when and how I'd fit in our own private time within my marriage to Braden.

This was fun, and I realized how excited I was that Junior had knocked up a guy. Rationally I knew it wasn't the right thing. Or at least it had happened too soon. But as I got closer to my son's hard prick I gripped it in my fingers and said lewdly. "You got a hardon when you heard Tim Carson was pregnant, Son?"

He shook his head. "Was too freaked actually," he said.

I looked up at him. "I know how you felt, son," remembering that conversation. "But now... I get huge boners when I knock your Daddy up."

"Fuck," Junior hissed. He loved that idea.

I licked his balls, tickling the orbs with my tongue. "Got powerful sperm in here."

"I do, Dad," Junior finally getting on my wavelength. "I fucking put a kid into Mr. Carson." I could sense his eyes on me, reading me in case he went too far.

"A son," I added, then licked to where his balls met his shaft. "You're gonna give me a fucking great-grandson."

"OH FUUUCK!" he hissed. At the idea but also because my tongue was tracing up his hard shaft.

"Fucking teen dad," I grunted. "You gotta a lot more before you can catch up with me."

"Course, Dad. Six sons is a lot."

I looked him dead in the eye. Junior was so frickin' sexy just then. "Especially cause I'm not stopping anytime soon."

"OH FUCK!" I knew how turned on Junior was getting because he was at a loss for words.

I didn't need the sex talk anyway. I leaned forward and began taking my son's dick in my mouth. The dick that had fucked Tim Carson and made a kid. A new life. I didn't need Braden's oral technique then, Junior was ready to blast pretty quick. He gripped my head and pumped some into my mouth as his dick spurted its seed. Maybe it was all in my head, but I imagined that his cum tasted different, more manly.

"Thank you," he hissed. Then, "Can I...?"

I shook my head and swallowed the rest of his cum. "I'll let your Daddy take care of that," I said. I slid out of bed and stood up, arranging the hardon in my trousers. "You tell him the news?"

Junior nodded yes. I could tell he'd dreaded telling me in a way he hadn't with Braden.

"Well, tomorrow, or the next day, see if you can bring Tim around the house," I suggested. "I want you to take responsibility, Junior, but maybe your Daddy and I can clear the air some."

"Sure, Dad. And thanks for understanding."

I leaned in to give him a quick kiss. "It's gonna change your life, Junior, in some not good ways as well as the amazing ones. But you got this, kiddo... I know you do.... and well, me and your Daddy have your back, OK?"

We let Junior have his space that evening, the rest of the family having dinner without him. I thought of checking with him before bed, but I knew he was OK, he just needed time to think and reflect. I think he valued that alone time just as much as me.

Later, when Braden and I got ready for bed, we knew we were gonna fuck. A hard fuck, going at it verbally. Talking about Junior's cock and sperm. Talking about our son becoming a father. It was an intense, simultaneous orgasm, and afterward, Braden and I held each other's sweaty naked bodies and had a serious conversation about expectations and how we could help Junior out.

***

Tim Carson was cordial when he came over the next day. It was small talk and introduction. I mean I knew him some from the team fundraiser and from the times I'd dropped Junior off for sleepovers a couple of years ago. Maybe it was one of those times, I wondered when was Junior first...

Now wasn't the time for recriminations. Tim felt nervous as hell to be there, even after Braden went to look after the twins, leaving just him, me and Junior in my study.

"This is awkward," the man said at last. Junior had good taste, I'll give him that. Mr. Carson was well preserved for a man in his 50s, fit, what I'd call a DILF. Like Doug Newcomb, only more normal looking, less movie star handsome. The man was a corporate lawyer, married with two kids. And his life had been turned upside down.

"Don't feel so on my account," I said.

He nodded, grateful. He looked over at Junior then at me. "You guys are going to think I'm crazy, but I wanna have this kid."

"It's not crazy at all, Mr. Carson," Junior said with a strange self-confidence.

He gave a gentle shrug. "Knowing I have this life inside my body, growing inside of me... it just feels meant to be."

"How far are you along?" I asked.

"Over three months," Tim answered. "I didn't know what was going on at first."

I did the math. This was before Junior and I first had sex, probably before I grounded him, but not much more. "How are you holding up?"

"Health-wise? Emotionally?..."

"Either."

"Health is good. I'm just dealing with my family." His voice got quiet. "Kelly always wanted another kid. She's not forgiving me, but I guess taking this as that chance, you know...?"

"I want to speak for Bill Jr here... he's going to be there however you need."

I saw a flash of worry on his face and maybe some real emotional conflict. He looked over at Junior, then back to me. "I'm going to raise him... Kelly and I are going to raise the kid as a Carson, Bill. I don't expect anything from Bill Jr. But maybe he could be the godfather."

"I'd be honored, Mr. Carson," Junior piped in.

I finally let them have a private conversation, getting up to go join Braden and our other sons in the family den. But before I did, I held out my hand to shake Tim Carson's. "I know my great-grandson will be a Carson, but I just want to let you know, Tim, that I consider you family."

"Thanks for understanding, Bill," Tim said. Up close, I could see what Junior saw in the man. The not classically handsome face had a way of growing on you. "And thanks for not stringing my balls up," he laughed.

I turned to Junior. "I'll be in the den if you need me for anything, son, OK?"

Junior smiled. Relieved and maybe surprised this whole conversation had gone better than he expected.

***

I did go check on Junior before bedtime. He was doing homework but was shirtless and just in some gym shorts in his room. "I take it Tim left," I said, as I knocked on the door.

"Just about a half hour ago," Junior said with a proud smirk. Then, "Sorry... I guess we never clarified House Rule Number 7," he said, referencing the idea of exclusivity.

"There's no House Rule 7, Junior," I said. He was at his desk, and I sat down on his bed. God, Brade was right. The kid was so much like me. Led around by his dick, but maybe not wanting to be like that. "Celebration sex is pretty powerful, isn't it?" I said. Bonding with my boy experiencing his first time with fatherhood.

That made Junior smile big. "I'll say, Dad. I know we talked about this, but bareback fucking is pretty damn incredible."

I laughed. "First time, raw?" I confirmed, making sure Junior had been truthful to me before.

He nodded. "Oh yeah. Other than the broken rubber time, but that didn't really count."

It was time for me to switch from wingman/buddy mode to parent mode. "You know, Mr. Carson has a family. A wife and kids."

He got more serious. "I know, Dad. We talked a lot. But Mr. Carson wanted it. I did too. At least one last time."

I felt for him... I think he felt this strange emotional side of becoming a father. This need to bond with the man he'd impregnated. I got up and reached over to pat his shoulder. In other circumstance, and if Junior hadn't just gotten laid, I might have initiated something. He was just so handsome and youthful and... dad-like. My second son, now a father himself.

"Maybe next date night we can just have a nice long conversation about being a father."

Junior seemed to take that in. "Sounds great, Dad... only no sex?"

"Horndog," I teased.

"I'm a Drake," Junior teased back.

I ran my fingers down his arm. I was getting a little turned on. "That you are, buddy." I leaned in some. There was just this bond Junior and I had at this moment. Fellow breeders. Junior following in my footsteps. Maybe this isn't the way it should have happened, but with sex and pregnancy it doesn't always play out like you want or expect.

"So... kiddo..." I said with a naughty look on my face. "I'm gonna go fuck your Daddy. See if I can make a son, too."

Junior's eyes grew excited. He may have just gotten his rocks off but he was clearly showing some lust at the idea. "Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah, stud. Wanna come watch tonight?"

"God, Dad, I'd love that."

Junior had joined in my and Brade's marriage bed a few times, but the action had been all oral. He'd never seen his parents fuck.

"Give it a half hour," I said. "Then come join us."

Braden was already getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth in the master bathroom as I stepped in, a big smirk on my face.

"What?" Brade laughed, spitting out the toothpaste. Then rinsing it out, it occurred him. "Oh fuck... Junior's joining us tonight?"

"If you're up for it, Son," I said, stepping behind him and gently gripping his strong shoulders to massage them as I look into his eyes in the mirror. "I want Junior to watch me breed you," I said.

"God," Braden said. And now I was able to see him throw hard in his shorts. I leaned in and kiss the side of his neck.

"I can't believe our son's a father now," I said softly.

"I know, Dad," Braden replied. "I've been thinking about that all day."

"Does it turn you on?" I asked. So far, other than a bout of sex talk during fucking, me and Brade's conversation had been about the practicality of Junior's paternity news and how we should respond as parents.

"Like crazy, Dad. I tolda ya he's gonna be like you."

We took our time getting naked and into bed. My son-husband and I were slow making out at first, enjoying the physical connection and the conversation.

"I'm so glad you were open to incest, Dad... way back when."

"I'm glad you got me to listen to my cock. Best decision I ever made."

We kissed more deeply.

A gentle knock came, but Junior went ahead and opened the door to slip on. I could tell he was hard in his shorts, but those didn't stay on long anyway. As he slid them off to show his large teen boner, he said softly. "Hey Dads."

I hadn't told Braden about Junior fucking Tim Carson earlier, but it didn't really matter. I was just amused he was recharged again, already.

"Hey Bill," Braden said, scooting to the side to give our son some space in the king sized bed. "It might be less foreplay tonight," he added.

"I don't care, Daddy," Junior said as he climbed over the base of the bed and onto the mattress between us. "I'm just so glad to be with you guys."

Braden kissed him first, then I pulled Junior toward me. By now, we were all getting the threesome dynamic, enjoying the multiple incestuous connections and relishing the feel of our naked bodies and hard cocks in various combinations.

At one point, I was getting overheated. I pulled back from a kiss with Junior, feeling up his bare chest openly in front of Braden. "You ready to watch, kiddo?"

Junior just grinned and nodded excitedly.

I crawled over his naked body and over to meet Braden in a heated kiss. Making out with my husband with our son watching gave a new thrill to sex with him. My Brade was now almost 40 and muscular and thick. And I was going to impregnate him again.

"You take your pill today, Son?" I asked as I pulled back. My body on top of his, hard cock humping Brade's.

He nodded. "Yeah, Dad. I'll take another, too."

I shook my head. "Doc says one a day."

Braden wasn't listening to me. Already he was reaching over to the foil packet on the nightstand.

"Fuck," I hissed. My dad cock was thinking for me now.

"Are those the fertility pills?" Junior asked. Excited.

I nodded, looking at my boyfriend. "When men get a little older, nature can use a little boost."

"Hot," Junior said. Then feeling out the more open sex talk he and I had been working, son asked, "Are those gonna make Daddy's womb extra fertile."

"I sure hope so," Braden said, popping the pill in his mouth and taking a sip of water from the glass before setting it down on the night stand. "I wanna get totally fucking pregnant tonight."

I ran my hands along Braden's hard abs, feeling the fur and looking back and forth between his amazing body and Junior. "I can't wait to knock up your daddy again."

"Yes," Junior hissed. He got on his knees and came closer to watch.

"Want to see us make you another brother, Bill?" Braden asked.

"God, Daddy..." Junior was getting excited as hell. "I've imagined you doing this SO much."

"Get the lube, kiddo," I growled. "I want you to get my cock ready to impregnate your Daddy."

"Yessir!"

As he reached over to the night table, I kissed Braden deeply. I didn't have to ask. My husband was wildly turned on. In heat.

"That pill kicking in, babe?" I asked in a soft growl.

"Dropping that egg for you now, Dad. All for you."

I leaned up. "For this cock."

"Hot fucking Dad cock," Brade grunted, reaching up to lovingly hold and stroke it.

"Guys!" Junior hissed, his own prick jerking as he scooted back in the bed. "So fucking hot!"

I gestured down at my own dick. "Slick me up, buddy... not too much... there... Nice!"

I kissed Junior, hard. Braden watched us make out, watched Junior almost whimper he was so worked up.

It took willpower to pull back, but I needed inside Brade, bad. I kicked apart his legs. Partly for show, I guess, playing it up for Junior. Braden knew and he smiled as he watched me get into the saddle, pushing down my rigid cock into place.

There's nothing like that first time, of me taking Braden's cherry. Or the night we made Junior, our first impregnation. But this was pretty damn close. At least having our son's eyes on the connection point between my bare dick and his daddy's receptive hole made this fuck feel special and new.

Junior watched me penetrate his other parent.

His hands were on me, rubbing my back, wanting to get close to me and to Brade in this primal sexual act. I loved that, but I also directed my attention to Braden. Modeling how husbands mate, with love but also sexual intensity.

"I love you, Brade..." I hissed, loud enough where Junior could hear.

"Love you, too, Dad."

I pushed in deeper. My cock inside my first born. While my second born witnessed it.

"Aw, that's it, Dad. Fuck me." Brade was wrapping his legs around me.

I turned to Junior. "Junior... can you put a pillow under Daddy's hips? It'll be a better angle."

"Yeah, Dad."

Braden chuckled. Then I powered into his body fully.

"Oh fuck yes, Brade," I hissed. "I love fucking you."

Junior's hands were back on me, his close presence turning me on. And I could see Braden watch us both as I fucked a little faster.

"Ready for son number seven, Son?" I asked.

"God yeah... I need you to impregnate me again. Fill me up with your sperm."

I put more power to my thrusts. No longer exactly showing off for Junior, this was me just getting into the breed-mating with his Daddy. "You all fertile for me, stud?"

He nodded in deep lust. "SO fucking fertile, Dad. Ready for that son you're gonna plant in there. However many sons you want."

"Shit!" I gasped. Junior was witnessing and hearing me and Brade go deep, for sure. "Give Junior here another little brother, maybe two."

"Maybe three."

"Damn. Show my boyfriend how we made him."

"Shit, Dad!" That was Junior's exclamation.

I didn't take my eyes of Brade, but as I fucked harder I spoke to Junior. "Yeah, kiddo. This is how we made you. I fucked your daddy nonstop till it took."

"Then we fucked some more, Dad," Braden hissed. His dick was jerking on his abs in excitement, quivering with each jab to his prostate.

"To celebrate," I added.

"Fuck yeah," Junior said. "I wish I could have watched. Wish I could have watched you fuck me into existence, Dad."

I don't know why that was the trigger, but Junior's words brought on my orgasm quick. I pounded in and leaned forward to kiss Brade as I seeded him full. As I ejaculated good and hard inside my husband, Junior's hands were on my sweaty back, sensually caressing me.

I gave Brade a deep romantic kiss as I came down from the high. We didn't have to say anything. We both intuited that there was a good chance that I'd just conceived our next son.

I gingerly retreated and once I broke free of Braden's ass, I used my thumb to push the excess sperm back into his hole.

Still breathing heavy, I turned to Junior. "If you wanna get one of your condoms, kiddo..." I offered.

"For real?" he asked. His dick was hard and jerking and on his smoother body it seemed to stand out more than my similarly sized cock did from mine. He looked at Braden, who nodded.

"That'd be fucking hot, Bill," my husband said.

We laughed as we watched Junior bound out of bed and slip on his shorts before slipping back out of the room.

I lay next to Brade and ran my hand along his sweaty chest. "You OK with the idea, Son?"

Brade smiled and nodded. "Junior's a stud, Dad. I didn't think the night could get more special and yet..."

"It's like experiencing it through new eyes," I said.

"Yeah."

Junior came back with two foil packets. He set them down on the nightstand and shucked his shorts down again. "You sure, Dad? Daddy?"

"That's a beautiful piece of son cock, Bill," Braden said, scooting over to taking Junior into his mouth.

"OH FUCK" Junior hissed, eyes on his daddy then up at me. "I didn't think you guys would go for this."

"You might want to get in him before he changes his mind," I joked.

Junior laughed and pulled back, leaning in to kiss Braden before he picked up a condom and ripped the wrapper with his teeth.

"This one better not break," I admonished him.

"No sir," Junior said, rolling down the sheath over his hard teen jock dick.

Meanwhile, Braden was pumping some lube on his fingers then applying the extra lubrication to his seeded hole. It had been a long time since I'd warn a rubber, but when we played with the Newcombs or the Connors, then Brade would often be a bottom to one of the dads.

It was my turn to watch what skills my stud 18-year-old son had. He was nervous fucking his Daddy but it was also clear he'd topped men before. Maybe a lot.

He fingered Braden's hole, reading my husband's reactions before pushing his dick into place. He quickly realized Brade was all loosened up from my fuck, so he pushed in.

"Oh God!" Brade hissed.

"Feel good, Daddy?" Junior asked, sensually as his hips pushed in then slowly swiveled for a slow pump.

"God, yeah, Bill. My own fucking son."

Junior was getting REAL into this now. "Your own son's fucking you, Dad."

"Oh fuck yes."

I didn't feel jealous watching this. Just the opposite, I was thrilled to see Junior make Braden so happy, so turned on. My husband began jerking his dick in time with each of our son's thrusts.

I gathered Junior was feeling the internal clenching. "Your ass feels so fucking tight, Daddy.. even after Dad fucked you."

"Push his seed deeper into me, son. AW, that's it... A little faster... Not too hard...."

Junior was getting into this fuck and it was magnificent to watch. My two sons, having sex. Fucking. It was just beautiful and hot. My cock was fully hard again. I reached out to touch Junior's back like he had mine.

"Oh shit," he hissed, hips jerking faster. I could tell our son was getting close,

Still, Braden beat him to the finish line. Hot white cum spurted out onto his meaty chest and ripped abs.

Almost a second after that I saw Junior's head go back and his eyes shut and his face flush red. "YES!" He wasn't an overly loud cummer. I enjoyed watching his O face. Different than Braden's. All Junior.

He had a big smile on his face as he relished the postcoital glow. Brade had a pretty big one, too. Then reaching down to hold the base of the rubber, Junior slowly extracted himself. There was a huge wad of cum pooled in the tip.

"Can I taste that, Bill?"

Junior nodded. "Yeah, Dad. I'd love that." He peeled off the condom and carefully brought it up to Braden's lips, turning out the contents.

"Fuck!" he hissed as he watched Brade slurp it all into his mouth, then swallow.

We let Braden shower off first. Junior and I embraced in the now damp sheets. Kissing softly.

"Thanks, Dad. That was the hottest thing."

"Pretty hot for us, too, Junior." I patted his bare ass as I held him close. "It's nice that we can trust you with this." I paused.

"Absolutely, Dad."

We kissed again, then it was my turn. I didn't know if Junior would be sleeping in our bed that night. It felt appropriate, and yet it didn't.

Turns out he made that decision for us. I walked back in to see only Braden in the bed. "Bill went to sleep in his own room."

"Probably for the best," I said.

Braden nodded. But as I got into bed, my husband pulled me close. "Thank you for that, Dad. You know I've been wanting that to happen."

I did and yet maybe I didn't know how much Brade had wanted it until then. We kissed some more.

I was happy and very sexually satisfied. Still, something nagged at me.

"I remember when you told me that Junior was gonna be trouble," I said softly,

Braden leaned up on his arm, looking at me. "Yeah?"

"I'm starting to see it."

***

I was in Doctor Fiedler's waiting room with Brade, when I got a call. Normally I'd ignore it unless it was an urgent work call. But it had been a while since I'd talked to Doug Newcomb.

I excused myself and stepped out in the hall. "Hey Newcomb, what's up?"

"I got some news, buddy..." he beamed. "As you know, Eric's graduating in May, and we've been talking, and we'd love to move out to your neighborhood."

"For real?" The news made me happy, happier than I would have thought, because I never expected this to happen.

"For real, Drake. We can talk details later, if you got a spare lot in your little subdivision."

"Incest Acres," I said quietly in to the phone. "We got a lot of spare lots."

"Incest Acres, buddy. Here we come. "

"So... what made you guys decide on that?"

I could almost hear the beaming smile on the other end. "Eric... well, you Drake men are inspiration, cause he wants to start a family with me."

"Shit." I loved hearing about incest procreation, and hearing it from the Newcombs was extra special.

"Yeah, I know right?" he chuckled. "We might not have the brood you do, but Eric wants a son bad. Turns out, I want to have one with him, too."

"It's the best, Newcomb. You'll see."

"What about you and Braden. Any news?" Doug new that we were trying for another pregnancy.

"At the doctor's office now, buddy. Waiting for the results."

"Oh shit. I'll let you go, man. Keep me updated."

"Will do... And Doug.. I'm super thrilled for you guys."

"Thanks, we are too. Talk later..."

I stepped back into the waiting room just as they were calling out Braden's name. I walked back to Fiedler's office with him.

Todd was all smiles as he ushered us in and shut the door.

"Well, gentlemen," he said with a playful smile. "I hope you're ready for triplets."

[acknowledge-reigns]

FAFO (fuck around and find out) | Zilla Fatu x Black! Reader (ft Trick Williams) | SMUT! 18+

(Not my gif)

Requested by: @wrestlingpookes

Description: Reader seeks attention elsewhere when feeling neglected by Zilla. The Main One reminds her who she belongs to.

Warnings: Teasing, flirting, Daddy Kink, honorifics, bratty sub, brat taming, mild manhandling, semi-toxic? Lmao, semi public play, degradation, dirty talk, masturbation, spanking, punishment, rough sex, hair pulling, creampie.

18+!! MDNI!!

My masterlist can be found here.

The RAW afterparty was in full swing, with loud music, drinks, and people dancing. Zilla Fatu was sitting on a couch, surrounded by other wrestlers, but he wasn't paying much attention to his girlfriend who was standing nearby.

She had dressed up for the occasion, wearing a tight black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. She had tried to get his attention all night, but he seemed more interested in talking to his friends than spending time with her.

As the night went on, a tall, muscular guy approached her. He was one of the other wrestlers, someone she didn't know well personally but she'd seem him on NXT. Trick Williams.

She smiled politely, noticing that Zilla was still ignoring her.

The guy took a step closer, his eyes roaming over her body. "I don't think I've seen you around before. What's your name?"

"I'm Y/N, and I'm Zilla's girlfriend," she said, gesturing towards Zilla who was still chatting away with his friends.

Trick chuckled, not seeming deterred in all honesty by the fact that she was taken. He was more than a little tipsy. "Ah, I see. Well, it's nice to meet you, pretty girl. Zilla is one lucky man."

Y/N laughed, enjoying the attention. She knew she shouldn't be flirting with another guy, especially in front of Zilla, but she couldn't help it. She was feeling a bit neglected and this guy was making her feel wanted. Besides, what's the harm in making Zilla jealous?

Trick took another step closer, his hand brushing against hers. "I have to say, you look absolutely stunning tonight. That dress is driving me crazy."

He was clearly not subtle, his eyes roaming over her body once again.

Zilla finally noticed the interaction between Y/N and Trick. He stood up from the couch, a scowl on his face as he made his way over to them.

"Aye, Uce, The fuck you think you doin'?" Zilla asks, the anger making his Houston accent more pronounced as he grabbed his girlfriends wrist, his gold grillz on display as he gritted his teeth and glared daggers at the man across from her.

"Oh, I was getting ready to have a couple of drinks with Trick Daddy here. What's it look like?" Y/N smirked yanking her arm away from Zilla and resting her hand on Trick's bicep, her already bratty nature amplified by the alcohol in her system.

Zilla's eyes widened in disbelief. He couldn't believe that she was being so bold in front of him. "Baby girl, don't start with me right now," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

Trick chuckled, enjoying the tension between them. "Looks like your girl wants to have some fun tonight, Zilla."

Zilla clenched his fists, his jealousy reaching a boiling point. "She's my girl, and she's going to remember that," he growled, grabbing Y/N's arm again and pulling her away from Trick.

He led her to a secluded corner of the room, away from prying eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, his grip on her arm tightening.

Y/N shrugged, a defiant look on her face. "I'm just having a little fun. Thought you were too busy ignoring me to care."

She was being a bit bratty, really getting under Zilla's skin.

Zilla's eyes darkened with anger. "You're mine," he said through gritted teeth. "You don't get to flirt with other guys and disrespect me like that."

He pushed her against the wall, his body trapping her between it and himself. "You belong to me, and only me. Don't forget it."

Y/N's heart raced as Zilla pressed her against the wall. She knew she had gone too far, but the thrill of pushing his buttons was too much to resist.

"Or what?" she challenged, her voice laced with sass. "What are you going to do about it?"

Zilla's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in them. "You wanna find out?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "I'ma remind you who's in charge. Right here, right now."

Y/N shivered at his words, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through her veins. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't help it.

"Go ahead," she whispered, her eyes locked on his. "I dare you."

Zilla smirked, clearly enjoying the fact that she was challenging him. He leaned in even closer, his body pressing against hers.

"You asked for it," he growled, before capturing her lips in a bruising kiss.

Y/N moaned into the kiss, her hands gripping his shoulders as he took control. His tongue pushed into her mouth, claiming her as his own.

Zilla's hands roamed over her body, grabbing her hips and pulling her closer to him. He bit down on her bottom lip, tugging it gently before pulling away.

"Get yo' purse and shit. We going home." He says.

Y/N nodded, still a bit breathless from the kiss. She quickly grabbed her purse and followed Zilla out of the party, the tension between them palpable.

The ride home was silent, but the air was thick with anticipation. Y/N could feel Zilla's eyes on her the entire time, his gaze burning into her skin. "Spread ya legs" he instructs her.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his command, but she obeyed, parting her legs as he instructed.

Zilla's hand found its way to her thigh, his fingers tracing circles on her skin. "That's it, baby girl," he murmured, "Play with that slutty little pussy for me. Get it ready. Cause I'm bout to make you scream when we get to the house."

Y/N let out a soft gasp as his fingers moved higher, brushing against the fabric of her panties. She knew that he could feel how wet she was, how much she was enjoying this.

She began to rub herself through the fabric, her eyes fluttering closed as she imagined what was to come when they got home. "Zilla..." she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zilla's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he listened to her moans. "You're so damn wet already, and we're not even home yet, needy slut." he growled. "I can't wait to punish you for being such a little brat tonight."

Y/N continued to touch herself, her body aching for more. She knew that she was in for it when they got home, but she couldn't help but feel excited at the thought of Zilla taking control and making her his again.

The car finally pulled up to their house, and Zilla parked quickly before turning to her. "Get out," he commanded, his voice firm.

Y/N scrambled out of the car, her legs shaky from the anticipation. Zilla followed her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards the house.

He unlocked the door and pushed her inside, slamming it shut behind them, "Bend over the couch. NOW."

Y/N did as she was told, bending over and presenting her ass to him. She could feel the cool leather of the couch against her skin, and she shivered in anticipation.

Zilla stood behind her, his hands running over her curves. He took in the sight of her, admiring the way her dress clung to her body. He pushed the fabric up, revealing her ass and the lacy red panties she was wearing.

"You were wearing these all night?" he asked, his fingers tracing the edge of the panties. "You were hoping to get someone's attention, weren't you? These for me or Trick hm?"

Y/N bit her lip, knowing that there was no way to deny it. "For you," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly as he ripped the panties off.

Zilla chuckled darkly. "Good girl," he said, before delivering a sharp slap to her ass.

Y/N gasped at the sting of the slap, her body jolting forward. "Count," Zilla ordered, his hand rubbing over her stinging backside.

"One," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Another slap landed on the other cheek, making her moan in pain and pleasure. "Two..."

Zilla continued to spank her, each hit harder than the last. He loved seeing her ass jiggle under his hand, loved hearing her moan and count out loud.

"Five..." she whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Zilla unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, already hard and ready to take her. To remind her who she belongs to.

He leaned over her, his chest pressed against her back as he positioned himself at her entrance. "You're mine, always mine," he growled in her ear.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to arch her back even more. He began to push into her, slowly at first.

Y/N cried out as he filled her, the stretch almost too much to handle. She gripped the couch cushions tightly.

Zilla didn't give her any time to adjust, immediately setting a brutal pace. He pounded into her hard and fast, his hips slamming against her with each thrust.

Y/N's moans turned into screams as he fucked her, the sound echoing through the house. She was completely at his mercy, her body bouncing with each thrust.

Zilla's grip on her hair tightened as he continued to use her roughly. "Who's pussy is this?" he growled, his breath hot against her neck.

"Yours, Daddy!" she cried out, her voice breaking. "It's yours, Zilla! Only yours!"

He smirked at her response, pleased with her submission. "That's right," he said, "And don't you forget it. You belong to me, and only me."

Zilla's thrusts became even more erratic as he neared his climax. He released her hair and grabbed her hips instead, pulling her back against him as he drove deeper into her.

"I'm gon' fill you up," he groaned. "Make sure you're full of my cum."

Y/N's mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, her body completely overwhelmed. She could feel her own orgasm building, the coil in her stomach tightening with each thrust.

Zilla could feel her clenching around him, and he knew she was close. "Cum for me, princess," he demanded. "Lemme feel you come on my cock."

Y/N screamed as she came, her body shaking uncontrollably. Zilla continued to fuck her through her orgasm, prolonging it as long as possible.

Finally, he reached his own peak, burying himself deep inside her as he came with a guttural moan. He collapsed on top of her, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

They lay there for a few minutes, Zilla's body pinning her down. He slowly pulled out of her, watching as his cum dripped down her thighs.

"Mine," he whispered, tracing his fingers over her skin. "You're all mine."

Y/N was too exhausted to respond, her body limp and sore. She could feel Zilla's cum leaking out of her, and she knew that she would be feeling the aftermath for days.

Zilla scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. He climbed in beside her, pulling her close to his chest.

He ran his fingers through her hair, a possessive glint in his eyes. "You did so well, princess," he murmured. "You took your punishment so well."

Y/N snuggled into him, feeling safe and protected in his arms. She knew that she had pushed him to his limit tonight, but it was worth it. She loved being his. In every way.

Zilla held her tight, his grip possessive. "I love you, baby," he whispered. "But don't ever do no shit like that again. If you want my attention just say it, princess."

Y/N nodded weakly, "I love you too, Zilla," she whispered back, her voice hoarse from screaming. "I'm sorry Just wanted you, daddy.."

Zilla kissed the top of her head, his anger dissipating. "I forgive you, baby," he said. "Just remember who you belong to."

He pulled the covers over them and settled in for the night, holding her close as they both drifted off to sleep.

[hittmeandtellmeyouremine]

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚 | 𝙣𝙤, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨

pairing: bsf!rafe cameron x bear!reader

summary: you're labeled rafe's biggest distraction which hurts you more than he expected it to, but at least the girls are back!

warnings: swearing and suggestive content.

word count: 2.5k words

song: sweater weather - the neighbourhood

socials chapter two → chapter three → socials chapter three

©hittmeandtellmeyouremine | this is my only account across all social media platforms. please do not translate, copy, or repost any of my writing.

you slept like a fucking baby. this wasn't a surprise, somehow rafe's bed felt better than yours. especially when he was in it too. which was probably why you stirred in his absence until your body finally alerted your brain to wake up.

sure enough, you were all alone.

you frowned as you sat up in his bed, rubbing your eyes with one hand while the other felt around for him just in case. you huffed when you confirmed the bed was in fact empty. you even held your breathe for a second to hear if he was just in the bathroom but he wasn't.

you slipped out of the bed, making your way towards the door to go find him.

you opened the door slightly before your brain caught up to your body—slowly but surely syncing up and reminding you that you weren’t at your house. you couldn't exactly roam the cameron's house in one of rafe's shirts and your panties.

you frowned, going to close the door but rafe's voice made you pause.

at first, you thought it was your imagination but the sharp tone that followed clarified that it wasn't. you leaned against the door, pressing your face against it lightly as you listened to ward's sharp voice.

"i'm not a fucking kid anymore, dad" he spat, the frustration in his voice crystal clear.

"yeah? you're not a kid anymore, rafe? then start acting like it" ward snarled.

you could practically feel rafe's jaw clenching. you couldn't see him but you knew that's exactly what he was doing —holding back, fighting the urge to lash out.

"oh, i'm not acting like it?" rafe questioned. "take a look around, dad. who's the only who gives the slightest shit about this family out of your kids?? you think its sarah?"

"don't bring your sister into this" ward stated.

"stop treating me like i'm some kind of failure when i do nothing but right by you" rafe said.

there was a brief moment of silence that passed and you thought—just maybe—rafe might've finally shut ward up.

"right by me? is that what you call it?" ward laughed, a hollow sound. "spending all your time chasing around distractions and going to parties with her—wasting your time like you’re still a damn teenager"

it almost felt like he knew you were listening, like he was accusing you of all of it. ward cameron had mentally wrapped rafe's hand around your throat, testing to see if he would finally squeeze.

"don't talk about her like that," rafe hissed, his voice tight. "she's not the issue here."

"no, but her being your main priority is," ward said, tone cold as ever. "i was just like you once rafe, with your mother. do you see her anywhere?"

your stomach knotted up at that, you felt sick. you didn’t even know those feelings were there until now, and they made you feel raw, like you were being crushed from the inside out. it was a sickening feeling— the concoction of guilt and empathy. your chest felt tight.

"that's not the same thing and you know it" rafe stated.

"wake the hell up, rafe" ward said. you heard his bedroom door slam shut shortly after.

there was an overwhelming sense of guilt that started to suffocate you. you knew ward was an asshole, that he treated rafe terribly compared to the other two. the typical treatment of the oldest child. you knew that most of the time he said these things just to spite rafe.

so why did it feel like there some truth to his words? that you were to blame?

a creak on the stairs broke your focus, and you immediately snapped your head towards the sound. your stomach dropped when you saw him.

he slipped into the room, and you created some distance between you two. rafe closed the door behind him, leaning against it and looking at you.

"i didn't know you were up" he said.

he knew you heard, he had to. yet here he was, acting as if you didn't. as if his father hadn't just verbally assaulted the both of you.

you tilted your head at him.

"was that because of me?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

silence filled the space between you.

rafe didn't move, he didn't speak. the warmth his eyes held last night seemed to have faded away almost completely. his pretty blue eyes now showcased his sadness and anger. he wished you hadn't asked that, that you hadn't even heard the conversation at all.

but you did, and now he had to give some sort of answer.

"no" he said, stepping a bit closer to you. "he does that whether you're here or not, you know this"

"but he sai-" you started.

"lets not start this conversation, yeah?" he said, grabbing your chin. "he's just a shitty father. it has nothing to do with you"

"yeah, but its not fair" you protested.

"life's not fair, baby" he said.

you knew what that was, his way of getting you to stop pushing the subject. there was a small tension in his shoulders and, again, if it were anyone else you wouldn't have noticed it. but it was rafe, so you did notice it. how could you not?

he let go of your face.

"is nora coming to get you or should i drop you off?" he asked, changing the topic.

nora, the girls.

today was the day you had been counting down for the last few weeks, hyper fixating on it like no other. you should've been more excited than you were but ward's words lingered in your mind.

"uh, i don't know" you answered quietly. "let me check"

you sat on rafe's bed, grabbing your phone and opening up the unread messages from nora. he watched you from his position at the foot of the bed.

"she's already on her way" you mumbled, glancing up at him. "i left a bikini here right?"

"you have multiple" he nodded. "they're in your drawer, top left"

you were over all the time and had too many clothes to count. he doesn't remember exactly when but at some point in time rafe cleared out a drawer for you to keep your clothes in. he had actually been meaning to clear out another.

you stood up and went over to his dresser, sorting through the clothes in your drawer. you didn't realized just how much you had here.

he sat at the edge of the bed, watching you sift through the fabrics. you eventually picked a baby pink one out, going into the bathroom to change.

"rafe? come help me?" you called.

he made his way over to you without a second thought, standing behind you and grabbing the strings of your top.

"this good?" he asked, pulling them slightly.

"a little tighter" you encouraged. "yeah, that's good"

he nodded and began to tie a knot, double knotting it for extra measure. his fingertips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of warmth where they did.

"i like this color on you," he mumbled. "you make it look so pretty"

your heart skipped a beat at his words, eye landing on him through the reflection of the mirror. his words shouldn't have had as much of an effect on you, he was just being nice. yet your heart swelled at that comment, yearning for more.

"thanks" you replied meekly.

he hummed in response, his gaze lingering on you for a second longer than necessary as he pulled back to look at his work.

"you need sunscreen?" he asked, columbia blue eyes finally finding yours.

you nodded, but the simple movement felt so much heavier.

he stepped away momentarily, and you caught the way his fingers twitched as he reached for the bottle of sunscreen on the counter. you turned your attention back to the mirror, desperately trying to steady your breath but the idea started to seem more and more impossible. the air around you felt thick, heavy.

he returned to his position behind you, his presence so close that it was all you could focus on. now your skin was the one that felt warm, burning with the anticipation of feeling his skin against yours. time seemed to slow.

the pop of the cap opening made you jump slightly, subtly snapping you out of your trance. your heart raced as you watched him squeeze the cream into the palm of his hand. he set the bottle down and rubbed his palms together, mentally calculating his route.

his hands offset your skin, the cream between you guys cold against your scorching skin. you mentally prayed that there wasn't steam radiating off of you as a result of the contact. his touch was soft, lightly applying pressure as he rubbed it into your skin.

an outsider looking in would be able to tell that his focus was more on touching you and less on the task at hand. he took his time, fingertips ghosting over your skin with careful precision. as if with one wrong move he'd break you into tiny little pieces, ones he couldn't glue back together.

"lift up for me" he mumbled, his breath warm against the back of your neck.

his thumb traced along the curve of your shoulder blade, then slid down your arm. his hand closed around your arm, sliding down before sliding back up. he repeated the action over onto the other one, making sure not to miss a spot.

"you're so fucking soft" he murmured.

his voice was quiet, barely a whisper. you caught the way his jaw clenched, like he was struggling to keep it together. as if he was struggling to remain fixed on his task. you don't know which one hurt more; his words or his actions.

"turn around"

you turned to face him, swallowing to saturate the growing dryness in your throat. your eyes flittered to meet his, just for a second. that second prolonged when his eyes didn't meet yours. instead he sunk to his knees, hands gliding over the skin of your calves.

you forced your eyes to look away from him, glancing up at the ceiling to try and compose your wandering thoughts. his hands slid up to your thighs, occasionally dipping under the strings of your bikini.

your breath caught in your throat as he rose, towering over you again. your eyes looked at him but he was focused on coating your body, hand lowering to your ribs.

every movement was so careful, slow and deliberate. like he was testing the waters of you, testing to see how close he could get without crossing a line. but every brush of skin, every lingering touch made it seem like that line was being crossed anyway.

his hands pulled back, gathering more sunscreen between them. his eyes locked onto yours for a split second, hand cupping your face. his thumbs smoothed over your cheeks, rubbing the sunscreen in delicately.

he held your face in his hands like it was the most important thing in the world.

"you good?" he asked softly, his voice almost raspy.

his eyes appeared darker now, a storm invading the blue. the question came out casual, at least, it was intended to. but it held so much more to it when he was face to face with you, caressing your skin like his life depended on it. this should've been a simple, casual task but it felt like so much more.

it didn't feel like he was asking just about the sunscreen.

you nodded again, but the words caught in your throat.

"yeah," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he stepped back to observe, but the tension didn’t dissipate. it was still there, thick in the space between you. he lingered just long enough to make you question whether he meant to pull away at all.

“good to go,” rafe murmured, though the way his voice lingered on the last syllable told you that it wasn’t just the sunscreen he was worried about.

your eyes found him now, finally feeling the weight of everything hanging between you—everything unsaid, everything felt but never spoken. you met his gaze, your breath still uneven, trying to steady yourself. but his eyes were soft now, searching, waiting for you to say something.

"thank you"

"of course" he nodded.

your phone buzzed on the counter, cutting through the tension. you glanced over at it, seeing nora's message that she was five minutes away.

"she almost here" you mumbled avoiding eye contact with him.

you slipped on your jean shorts and rushed to brush you teeth. he watched you from his bed, tossing you a hoodie that you slipped over your top.

"are you gonna be busy later?" you asked him, putting your hair up.

"nah, i think i'm gonna go golfing with the guys in a little while" he shrugged.

"you wanna come to the beach later? they'll probably invite everyone"

"yeah, just say the word and i'll be there" he nodded.

"okay" you smiled, grabbing your phone and tucking it into your back pocket.

"see you later"

"see you later, baby"

you grabbed your keys and slipped out of his room. thankfully you didn't run into ward on your way out, you don't think you've ever been so happy to be out of the cameron's house.

nora was waiting in her jeep outside —her baby, as she liked to call it. her fully decked out, dark purple wrangler. the interior was all black, rimmed with led lights. she loved her truck more than anything.

"took you long enough" she teased as you got into the passenger seat.

"you've been waiting for like one minute"

the drive to the airport was quick, and the usual easy flow of conversation with nora helped ease the tension in your shoulders, even if your mind kept wandering back to the conversation you had overheard. she didn't ask you about it directly, but you knew she was keeping an eye on you, noticing the way you were a little quieter than usual.

you two impatiently waited before the gates for the girls to come. parker's flight had landed first, meaning she would come before lina. nora had even made cute little pick up signs for you guys to hold up.

"i'm so excited" she squealed, holding parker's sign between her fingers.

"oh my god is that her?!" you said, louder than you intended.

"oh my god, it is!" she yelped.

you guys locked eyes with parker and ran, practically tackling her in a hug. everyone in the airport gave you guys dirty looks, probably because the three of you were squealing and giggling like children. her million different luggages were discarded behind her as you all jumped around excitedly.

"you guys having fun without me?" you turned and saw lina standing there.

"leen!" you squealed, jumping into her arms.

she giggled, spinning you around. once she set you down the other two joined, the four of you holding hands and giggling.

"okay, we need to calm down before they kick us out" nora laughed, catching her breath.

"hurry up, i'm getting weird stares" parker recited.

"jesus, parker how many luggages did you bring?" you asked.

"there's two carryons, my personal, and three checked" she answered.

"that's our girl" lina smiled.

"hey, what's this?" parker asked, picking up the signs that had been long forgotten.

"oh, i made you guys signs" nora smiled.

"we're so cute" parker gushed.

-

a/n: this is lowkey a filler chapter, just to give you guys some context. things will start to pick up next chapter!

socials chapter two → chapter three → socials chapter three

series masterlist

tag list: @princesspeaxhh , @alphabetically-deranged , @malibuhearts , @yktayy9669 , @sideboobrry11 , @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

either comment or send me an ask to be added to the tag list! must interact to stay tagged.

[sofreddie]

Not What You Wanted - Part 1

Summary: Being a fan from Ourverse, Chuck brings Y/N to the Supernatural world, but she's determined not to be a pawn.

Characters: Reader, Chuck, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel

Warnings: AU, Angst, Fluff

WC: 3,195

A/N: A new series! I love writing the 'fan reader' stories. It's so much fun, and I'm so excited to hear your thoughts. There will be pairings, and the tags will change, but I don't want to give anything away at the start. Enjoy!

Y/N stood in a wooded area with a canvas backpack slung on her right shoulder, her hand wrapping around it tightly, clinging to it for dear life. She couldn’t believe the mess she had landed in. God - or Chuck as he insisted on being called - had snapped his little fingers and poofed her into his presence.

“You just need to be there for the Winchesters,” Chuck shrugged with a smile that attempted to comfort but came across as suspicious. “Easy for a fangirl, right?” 

She growled in irritation, dropped to one knee, and looked at her wooded surroundings again before searching through the bag Chuck had provided her. It contained several survival-type items—matches, a Zippo lighter, a small notepad, and a cheap pen—and a few items of clothing that she recognized as her comfy favorites from her wardrobe back home.

She thought, Back home, realizing it was a different universe away, and she wasn’t sure how she would return. The Winchesters could help, but she had no intention of seeking them out. That’s precisely what Chuck wanted, and she didn’t trust him. She also didn’t want to impose herself on them.

“No, I won’t help you manipulate them,” Y/N seethed at the deity. In the back of her mind, she was screaming at herself to stop antagonizing God of all people. People? But she couldn’t help her anger and protectiveness over her favorite heroes.

“You will,” he insisted, suddenly reaching out a hand and placing it flat against her sternum.

She screamed out in pain, dropping to her knees, but his hand never left her. She thought she was being tortured or possibly killed, but then he removed his hand, and she dropped forward on her hands, trying to catch her breath.

Rising to her feet, she felt strange. She tested herself by stretching her limbs and splaying her fingers. She felt physically and mentally fit in a way she never had. Deciding she would investigate later, she chose a direction, walking to find her way out of these random woods and into some kind of civilization. 

Y/N wasn’t sure what Chuck had planned for her or the Winchesters, but free will, right? She wouldn’t be a pawn for him to use against them or burden them. Honestly, she was more than a little terrified to even see them for real.

Yes, she was a fan, but they didn’t do well with fans.

Or things from other universes.

Or Chuck.

Besides that, this was not some PG-14 TV show anymore; it was reality. And reality had no rating. The truth was that they could just as quickly turn on her as they could help her, and she didn’t want to take the chance. It wasn’t like she thought very highly of herself, so why would they?

After several minutes, she saw a break-off in the distance, a small road ahead. She put a little more pep in her step, eager to try and find a way to earn some money and start getting herself established here.

Maybe Chuck would find her and send her home.

Maybe he’d kill her.

Regardless, she needed to find a way to survive in this world without coming into contact with the Win--

She froze as she broke through the treeline, two pairs of eyes looking over her, catching her breath in her throat. She knew her eyes were wide, their brows furrowing as their gazes swept over her.

It was them.

Sam and Dean Winchester.

They were standing on either side of the Impala, parked in front of the Bunker entrance. Of course, she’d recognized all of it immediately. Of fucking course, she had to have picked the wrong direction to go.

They were immensely bigger and hotter in person. Her breathing and heart rate picked up as her wide eyes roamed them. She felt an intense urge to run to them, confess everything, and simply be in their aura. But she reminded herself why she was avoiding them to begin with. To top it off, she did not want to come across as another Becky.

“You okay, Miss?” Sam spoke, breaking the stare-off.

Sam’s voice was deep but smooth, the rumbling sound of it like thunder rolling through her and vibrating in her chest. He was so very tall and broad, casting an immensely formidable figure. His long, chestnut locks tousled in the breeze, a light stubble adorning his chiseled jaw. She tried to guess when she might be by his hairstyle but was too distracted by his appearance to think clearly. 

“Um-” What the hell was she supposed to say or do?!

“Did something happen?” Sam asked, turning away from the car and approaching her slowly. His hands were raised to show her he meant no harm.

Oh great! I must look like a terrified animal.

She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she could run back into the woods and if they would just let her be. Instead, she turned around to look at the brothers.

Sam stood with a worried look as he patiently waited for her to respond. Dean, however, looked pensive and ready for a fight as he reached a hand under his shirt to the back of his pants. Her eyes widened with understanding, an idea suddenly occurring to her.

“I was just trying to get to the bus station,” she uttered, shifting her feet and looking at the ground. “My boyfriend-”

She trailed off, allowing the silence to fill with assumption. She never really needed to act, but she felt pretty proud of herself as Dean’s face hardened and his posture stiffened. His eyes swept her head to toe, likely looking for injuries.

“He hurt you?”

Dean was immediately on guard when this random woman emerged from the woods, expecting the worst: maybe a demon or witch? Now, he felt exceptionally protective and a bit aggressive about it. It was a confusing roller coaster on top of everything else churning within.

The deep timbre of Dean's voice only seemed to accentuate the anger radiating from him. She knew Dean had periods of absolute ire, but she didn't know what scenario was the source in this instance. The Bunker existed, so she knew she was within a specific time frame. But she also knew their lives within those walls were chaotic and dangerous.

“I just,” she stuttered, taking a deep breath. She, indeed, was afraid. But it was of the men standing in front of her. She let her fear show and covered it in her lie. “I just need to get away.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded in understanding.

Like his brother, Sam felt wave after wave of strong emotions regarding this mysterious woman. She looked terrified. However, his hunter instincts were on high alert - as always with unfamiliar people - his need to protect was the strongest. He found it quite odd that he practically needed to help her. Like a spark or draw to her that felt almost supernatural.

Reaching into his back pocket, Sam flashed his FBI badge and a reassuring smile. She tried not to smile back, knowing the badge wasn’t real.

“My partner and I are FBI. We can give you a ride to the bus station.”

Well, this is undoubtedly fortuitous: a ride to the bus station. They’ll drop her off, and she’ll be on her way; they’ll never see her again. Okay. She could do this. Just ride in the backseat of Baby with the Winchesters. 

No big deal.

She lowered her gaze to the ground, nodding slightly, “Okay.”

Her voice was so small she wasn't sure they’d heard it. After the two men exchanged whispered words and silent gestures, Sam returned to the passenger side, and Dean opened the back door, gesturing for her to get inside.

She slid into the backseat, giving Dean a small smile, trying not to be completely fucking wrecked over how beautiful he was up close. She muttered a ‘thank you,’ Dean closed the door and climbed behind the steering wheel. She let her nervousness show as she focused out the window, allowing her mind to try and formulate a plan. She didn’t have any money, but maybe there was a shelter in town, or she could hitch a ride to a bigger city with one and go from there.

Caught up in her planning, she didn’t register the whispered and expression-strewn conversation Sam and Dean exchanged on the quiet ride through town. 

“You feel something, too?” Dean whispered to his brother as he glanced in the rearview mirror, wary of eavesdropping.

Sam nodded, swallowing hard and glancing over the seat. Her gaze was glued to the passing scenery through the window, clearly off in her world of thoughts. She hadn’t realized they’d parked the car; her attention broke when Dean opened the back door for her again.

She exited the car and looked over the small local bus station building. Turning back towards the brothers with a genuine smile, she was surprised to see them smiling back at her. 

“Thank you,” she offered before walking toward the building. A hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she turned to see Dean smiling down at her.

“Here,” he offered, handing her a sizable wad of cash. She smirked when he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “It’s all we have on us, but I hope it helps you get wherever you’re going. I’m sorry for what you’re going through.”

Sam reached forward to hand her something but tripped, a bit of his bottled water sloshing over the rim and on her. She jumped in surprise but gave a forgiving smile, wiping the wetness from her arm.

“Sorry about that,” Sam laughed awkwardly, brushing his hands hastily over the wet spots in a vain attempt to wick away the moisture. His borrowed silver ring from Dean brushed over the exposed skin of her hand. They exchanged another look before turning their attention back to her.

“Thanks again,” she pocketed the cash, waving to them both before heading inside.

The brothers hesitated a while, conversing while leaning on the car's roof. From this distance and through the windows, it was almost like watching the show. Her smile faded as she realized it wasn’t just a show anymore but her world now.

Sam and Dean hopped in the car, and she watched the Impala pull away, heading back the way they had come. She let out a long breath, sad to see them go but glad it was over. At least she couldn’t fuck up their lives now.

She went to the public bathroom, holing up in one of the stalls, and just sat on the seat, taking a long breath. She took the money from her pocket and counted what they’d given her, finding over four hundred dollars in her hand. She smiled and wiped a sudden tear that fell from her eye. That’d be more than enough for her to get settled somewhere.

It suddenly occurred to her that they could return looking for her, especially if Chuck caught up with them. She suddenly panicked, wanting to figure out how to hide from the Winchesters, Castiel, and Chuck. Heading out of the bus station, Y/N walked down the street. It didn’t take her long to find what she sought.

-

Dean parked the Impala in front of the Bunker again; he and his brother were silent the whole ride back from the bus station. They both felt like they had to help her and gave her all the cash they had on them. They both felt uncomfortable about just leaving her at the bus station. Now that they were back home, they both felt a heaviness weighing on them.

“Something feels off,” Sam mumbled, Dean grunting in agreement as the two tried to rack their brains for any reason they would feel like this. “Like leaving the stove on or forgetting something important,” Sam continued, Dean grunting his acknowledgment.

Trying to shake it off, they climbed out of the Impala, ready to move on from the unusual day. But the sudden appearance of Castiel in front of the car gave them both the suspicion that their ill feelings weren’t wrong.

“Dean,” Castiel spoke in his gravelly tone. “Sam.”

“Cas,” Dean greeted in turn. “What’s up?”

Castiel looked around their surroundings, focusing on the woods before returning to the brothers, “There was a shockwave of powerful energy that I followed to this area,” the Angel explained. “And a new…presence,” his face pinched with confusion. “Have you noticed anything unusual?”

The brothers looked at each other before glancing back to the woods.

“Nothing,” Sam offered. “There was a woman who came out of the woods,” he said, brow furrowing. “She said she was trying to get to the bus station, so we took her,” he shrugged.

“Did she say anything else? Did you feel or sense anything about her?”

“What’s with all the questions, Cas?” Dean inquired.

“Just…answer the question.”

Sam was taken aback by Cas’ harsh attitude, but after a quiet side-glance to Dean, he responded. “She felt…familiar, somehow. And we felt we had to protect her. That we needed to help her.”

Castiel examined each of the brothers more intently, coming to stand before them and sniffing them, making them flinch away from the awkwardness.

“What the Hell are you doing, Cas?” Dean growled.

“You both have a scent of that power about you,” Cas explained, the brothers' eyes going comically wide. 

“What are you getting on about?” Dean growled again, more than done with Cas’s weirdness but not appreciating the sinking feeling in his gut.

The Angel sighed, glancing around himself once more. “I don’t know,” Cas admitted with a frown. “It must have something to do with the energy surge.” 

Castiel looked to the woods again before walking off into them, the brothers following a few steps behind. Following some invisible trail, he came to a sudden stop. He could feel immense energy crackling in the air, setting his hair to stand on end.

I feel the presence of God, Castiel thought to himself in awe, his hand held out before him, eyes closed as he felt the air. He sniffed and sighed, his eyes falling closed again. It’s the same smell. But why- he pondered -would God bring someone here? She had to have been brought for the Winchesters, considering Cas could tell both brothers had just met their soulmate. It was too coincidental and had to be the same person God had brought. 

"So?" Dean asked, his hands tucked in his jacket pockets as he shrugged, "What did you find?"

Sam stood in almost the same position, the brothers side-by-side. They looked tired and worn, but there was much going on that needed their time and attention, and Castiel needed their help if he was going to defeat Metatron. Deciding he would look into it later, Castiel determined the distraction wasn't another burden the Winchesters needed.

"An energy signal," Cas explained. "But I'm not sure if it's important. I'll look into it later."

"But you said-" Sam began to argue, remembering his comments from earlier.

"We got bigger fish to fry," Dean sided with Cas, grabbing his bag and heading inside the Bunker.

He wasn't ready to handle the possibility of what Castiel had said. He was dealing with enough already and was in no condition to entertain the thought. He focused on finding and killing Metatron, pushing everything else out of his mind. 

Sam and Cas exchanged looks before Sam relented and followed his brother inside the Bunker.

-

As the large metal door of the Bunker clanked closed, several others found their way into the woods, guided by the same energy that had drawn the Angel’s attention. Three men strolled into the clearing where the energy signal had drawn them. Eyes flashing black as coal, they sniffed at the air and searched the ground. Finding nothing outside the energy, one of the men pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialing and holding the receiver to his ear.

“We searched, but there’s nothing here,” the demon spoke into the phone, his affirming nod unseen by the caller on the other end. “Right, we’ll follow the energy and see what we find.”

“So?” One of the demon companions asked.

“Follow your nose,” the first demon replied, tucking his phone away and following the trail. 

It didn’t take long before they were breaking through the woods, the ever-fading energy guiding them. At the sight of the famed black Chevy Impala parked outside a large, abandoned building, the demons knew they were on to something.

“Winchesters,” he sneered, the other demons shifting uncomfortably. He sniffed the air again, his head turning away from the building and the car.

“We should go before they show up,” the third demon commented, his fear evident. 

“This way,” the first demon stated as he wandered away from the car and building, following the feel and scent of the powerful energy. “Crowley’s more interested in the power surge than the Winchesters. We’ll tell him what we found after we track the source.”

Reluctantly, the other two demons followed their companion, intent on completing their mission and pleasing their King.

-

Y/N winced as she adjusted her clothes against the raw and sore skin. The tattoos hurt but were necessary. She was lucky she paid attention when she watched the show, remembering sigils that would ward her against being found by anyone. Step one in securing her new existence.

Now, on to her next step of the plan.

She knew the Winchesters and their tactics, at least to a degree. She wasn’t sure if they knew who she was or if they would come looking for her, but she didn’t want to take the chance. So she bought a bus ticket. ‘Longest route with the most stops,’ she had asked the lady behind the counter with a warm smile. With many stops, she hoped it would take them quite a while to track each one down. She smirked to herself, remembering the main character in a book she’d read once doing something similar. Her obsession with escaping into fantasy was proving its worth.

After purchasing the ticket, she went around the side of the building where many people were waiting to board their various buses. Amongst the commotion, she slipped through and out the back of the bus lot, making her way down the street. She did not intend to get on the bus but rather create a paper trail for them to follow. She hated wasting money and having so little to work with, but she needed to be safe.

Over the next hour, she walked through town, purchasing a room at a motel, then walking down the street to another and buying a room there, before finally settling on a third on the far end of town. She paid cash at each and registered with a fake name. She knew she’d have to put protections on the room, but for now, she was exhausted and felt safe enough to try and catch some sleep before moving on again.

FOREVERS:

@lyarr24

@hobby27

@kazsrm67

@maliburenee

@440mxs-wife

@writercole

@spnbaby-67

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@leigh70

@laycblack

@kr804573

@nancymcl

DEAN WINCHESTER:

@slamminmine

@deandreamernp

@awkward-and-indecisive

@akshi8278

@mimaria420

SAM WINCHESTER:

@b3autyfuldisast3r

NOT WHAT YOU WANTED:

@cassiecourtemanche

@myceliumsunshine

@piptoost

@deans-yn

@kr804573

@stariou 

@ladykitana90 

@kentuckyhobbit 

@lunaleah 

@deansimpalababy 

@h0ng1s00lo832

[call-me-mother-darling]

Honey Never Spoils

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Authors note: Hey chicas, I tried my best with this. As fucked up as it sounds I'm not used to writing cute fics so hopefully this is up to your standards. Just as a warning this isn’t like a super fluffy fic. To make the fluff more impactful there will be action and fighting before it. I tried to make the fighting as short as possible without leaving out info.

Feedback is always encouraged!!

Plot: Natasha asks you for a huge favor

Warnings: men... men having the intention of treating a women like an opject, shooting, punching, violence, Red Room (if you watched the movie you understand), death, fake flirting, drinking, being drunk (let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2445

I am currently at a bar getting trampled by what seemed like actual children. They must’ve gotten kicked out of the bar close to campus so this was their next best shot. The place was grubby and smells of body odor and bad decisions. What in my right mind am I doing here? I had just finished a mission so I came to Budapest to lie low and enjoy the architecture. Plus the safe house is here. 

Just when I thought my night wasn’t going to get any worse my body is being forced to the side. I can’t help but glare at the bitch that pushed me. I’m met with beautiful green eyes.

“Hello?!” I yell over the blaring music but she is just staring into my soul.

“What the fuck did you push me for?” I yell again waving my hand in front of her face. Just trying to get any reaction from her.

“You speak english?” She questions.

I look at her with an annoyed look. That's all she has to say after she slammed into me. 

“Yes of course I do. Do I look fucking hungarian to you?” I question rolling my eyes.

I begin to walk away when a hand covers my mouth and I'm being dragged away.

“Shh be quiet pretty girl” A sweet russian accent plays in my ear.

Out of my own shock I freeze. 

I do not have time for this.

Realization quickly washes over my body. I think quickly of all possible scenarios. She could be planning on killing me, maybe I owe her boss money? If it’s the boss I’m thinking of, he definitely knows what kind of girls to send my way. I struggle against her grip before I throw my head back and force my elbow into her side. Her grip loosens slightly but she insists on digging her nails into my skin. If she draws blood I'm gonna kill her. Fighting against her nails I twist toward her. It wasn’t by much but it was enough to grab her jacket and slam her into a wall. By the look in her eyes she was shocked but a small smirk played on her lips as soon as I noticed the red hourglass tattoo on her collarbone.

Shit

“What do you want from me?” I growl at her.

“Your love.” She confesses. 

“Are you insane?” I glance at the tattoo, instantly regretting my words.

“Don’t answer that” I say slowly, stepping away from her.

I watch her every move. She's trained to move like a cat, quiet and deadly. If she were to move I wouldn’t notice until it was too late.

 A smirk slowly pulls at her lips. “Who are you?" 

“Given your smirk you already know who I am Natasha.” I have known Natasha since she blew up the Red Room. I was one of the widows that was saved. I couldn’t be more thankful but why did she feel the need to attack to get my attention.

“It is good to see you too, Widow.” She pushes herself off the wall and circles around me. Like a panther hunting her prey.

“Don’t call me that! What do you want?” I question.

“I need your help finding this man. He is part of the few that got away before the Red Room got destroyed. Given you’ve been lying low for over a year now I think it’s time you get back in the action.” She nudges my arm. 

“What do you say, honey bun?” I roll my eyes at that.

“Okay fine, what do you need me to do?” I ask.

“You see that man at the bar with the gray hat? That's him. I need you to flirt with him and get in his head. Bring him to this address.” She hands me a small slip of paper with an address written in red ink. Classic.

In the Red Room we would color code our writing blue means easy target, red means dangerous to widows, green means dangerous to all, black means orders came from Dreykov directly.

“I will be waiting in the bedroom. Get him drunk, knock him out, do whatever you need to do to get him to this address.” I nod in understanding.

“Got it.” I confirm, eyeing this man. He’s huge. Around six foot five and at least three hundred pounds. I take a deep breath stepping in his direction. A strong hand grips my arm. I look back at Natasha staring at me. Her eyes scanning my face like this is the last time she’ll see me. 

“Please pretend like you’re gonna see me Natalia. I got this. You know I've handled worse” I put my hand over hers, running my thumb over her knuckles. You can see her face soften when I say her real name. 

“I know, любовь. I just worry. But go get him. I will be waiting for you.” Natasha says her accent is thick. Her accent always gets worse when she’s scared. 

I nod and sway towards him. I have to make it seem like it’s his idea. Taking a drunk girl home and taking advantage is his specialty. I pretend to drunkenly fall into the seat next to him. Asking the bartender for a strong drink purposefully slurring my words. 

“Hey sweetie” A masculine voice whispers in my ear and I fight the urge to lean away from him. His breath smells of whiskey. His hand cements itself to my hip in almost a bruising restraint. 

I giggle and lean against him. “What are you doing?” I eye his arms pretending to be impressed by the muscle showing through his shirt.

“You're so strong!” I grip his bicep, puffing out my chest. His eyes practically burn holes into my breasts. 

“I’ll show you how strong I am, sweetie. Let's get you home.” He says paying his tab and apologizing to the bartender. “Sorry bro my wife doesn’t know her limits sometimes.” The bartender chuckles.

“No problem man, mine is the same way.” God they talk like they own the women in their lives. Like we are objects. Disgusting. 

He leads me out of the bar, me stumbling over my own feet. 

“Can we go to my house, it’s thirty five- uhhh wait I don't remember.” He chuckles.

“I wrote it down, hold on.” I pause swaying slightly and I scramble to get the piece of paper out of my pocket and hand it to him. He doesn’t question why I don’t have my own address memorized as he takes the paper from my hand.

“Ah yes, I know where this is. Don’t worry sweetie we can go to your house.” he says, leading me in the direction of the house. The cold breeze leaves goose bumps along my skin. It has to be at least one in the morning.

The front of the house is one of an old vintage home. It is absolutely breathtaking. He stops at the end of the driveway.

“Do you have keys?” He asks and I shake my head in response.

“I’ve always had an open door policy.” Given Natalia never gave me a key I can only assume the door is unlocked. My stomach drops as we walk closer to the door. So many what if’s circle my mind. What if Natasha isn’t here? I didn’t see her leave the bar. What if he doesn’t want to go to the bedroom? What if Natasha doesn’t make it to me in time? I haven't done a mission like this in a really long time so my nerves are acting up. I beg them to be calm and keep a level head. 

“Let's have some fun. My room is upstairs.” I giggle, pushing aside my worry. 

He just chuckles at my drunkenness and leads me to the bedroom. When we step into the bedroom he roughly drops me on the bed and goes to lock the door. The door to the connected bathroom opens slowly, a pair of green eyes peeking out. Relief settles over me. He turns back around and eyes Nat. Looking her up and down like she is a piece of meat.

“The more the merrier.” he smirks.

There's no way this bitch just said that.

Anger washes over Natasha's face and she runs at him. Her fist collides with his throat and he is sent back gagging and trying to catch his breath. As he kneels down her knee slams into his nose. A loud crack rings through my ears. She was so quick you could see him struggle to catch up.She pulled her infamous gun from the back of her jeans and shoots him execution style. 

She kicks him over and looks my way. “Are you okay honey bun?” 

“Yes, I'm okay. Everything just happened so fast and honestly I didn't expect him to go down that fast.” She chuckles at me.

“They always second guess a woman's ability to fight. It helps in these situations especially when a man thinks he’s an ‘alpha’.” She rolls her eyes at her own statement and I can’t help but laugh. 

“Come on, let's get you home.” She motions for me to follow her after she kicks the man out of the way.

“I’m gonna pretend you found where I live in a responsible and very legal way.” I say and glance at him on the way out. 

“What will happen to him?” I ask

“A cleaning team will be here in about twenty minutes. Trust me this place will look spotless by the time they are done with it.” I nod trusting her every last word.

We walk outside into the chilly area and make our way to her black nineteen ninety Cadillac. I chuckled at the car and she glanced my way. Giving me a look of questioning.

“Nothing, I would just think you’d have a BMW or some type of fast car.” She almost looks offended at my words.

“First of all I love classics. Second of all get your ass in the car. It's cold out here.” I smile and listen to her command. I hate admitting this but I trust her with my life so I can just shut my brain off.

The drive back to my place was quiet. Her free hand rested on my thigh and my left hand rested on hers rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. Before I knew it she was pulling into my complex. After being in Budapest for so long I requested a bigger apartment. This one comes with bigger parking spaces so when Natasha parks we aren’t fighting to get in and out of the car. After she parked we made our way to the elevator and to my door. As much as this is an old building I find beauty in it. Think of how many people have lived here. How many lives have lived in the same space but experienced it so differently. It’s beautiful to be a part of those many people.

As the door creaks open Natasha holds the door open for me and locks it when both of us are inside. Nastahsa’s gaze falls on the fireplace. More specifically the photos above it. It’s pictures of us and our families when we were younger. Well our assigned families. My favorite picture is of Nat, Yelena, and me. We looked so happy playing with the fireflies. 

“How were you able to keep all of these?” She asked.

“Melina kept them for me. She said that it would help you remember if they ever took your memory.” I say.

You can see the sadness in her eyes. 

“I could never forget you. I spent too much time trying to win you over to forget your beautiful face.” She flashes a smile. 

“You were always such a flirt.” I chuckle.

I grab her hand and lead her to the kitchen. Maybe some tea will help.

“Do you still like peppermint?” I ask pulling the box out of the cabinet.

“You already know the answer to that.” She sasses, blowing me a kiss.

I smile and grab the kettle, filling it with water. I put it on the stove and make my way to the bathroom. Before she even gets the chance to get up I say.

“Stay there, I'm getting a bandage for your hand.” I can hear her huff at that. I can’t help but giggle. I came back with the wrap and a damp washcloth. I lift her up and sit her on one of the kitchen stools, a small gasp coming from her.

“Let me see your hand.” I say and she hesitantly gives me her left hand. It doesn’t look as bad as some of her injuries in the past but it still looks painful. I run the cool wash cloth over her knuckles, a small hiss escapes her mouth. 

“I know my love, I'm almost done.” I say wrapping the bandage over her knuckles and around her hand securing it at the wrist. 

“There we go all done. See not too bad.” I smile looking up at her. Her eyes hold so much love and adoration. I can’t help but blush lightly at the sudden attention. Her eyes search my face, like she is looking for a clue. My eyes glance down to her lips. We both start leaning in. The tension getting thicker.

The tea kettle goes off and I step away, coming back to reality. 

“I’ll get that.” I say shakily. I make my way to the stove turning the burner off. I grab two cups and two bags of tea. I put the bags in the cup and pour the boiling water into each cup.

“Would you like some honey, honey?” She asks, standing beside me with the jar of honey. I giggle and nod. I watch her pour the exact amount I like into mine and a little bit into hers.

“How do you know how much honey I like?” I question furrowing my eyebrows.

“You liked it like this when we were younger.” She answers with a wide smile.

I can’t help but hug her. I can hear the honey fall to the counter and her arms wrap around me tightly. My eyes well up with tears and I hold her as tightly as possible only to loosen it to put our foreheads together.

“I have always loved you.” I confess.

“I love you more.” She says and a wide grin appears on my face.

I lean in and connect our lips. The teas long forgotten

Yes, this is right. Is all I can think to myself

[discordiansamba]

good afternoon, have some more assorted thoughts about the time travel AU:

rin: so do you have any advice about how to pass the certification exam?

noctis, who never actually took it: uhhhhhhhh. go ask your uncle?

shiro walks in to find noctis and rin collapsed on the couch, both with the most ungraceful sleeping posture you can imagine complete with their eyes half open. he just snorts. like father, like son, he guesses.

(shiro, later on: oh wait. that was because they're the same person.)

if you think for one second that noctis staying youthful means that rin won't call him 'old man' you are so wrong. he absolutely does. it's karma. the first time he does it, it's just a critical hit.

the exwires @ rin and yukio: ...so you two are definitely second generation nephilim, right?

yukio: most likely, though father won't be honest with us.

rin: ...maybe he doesn't want to set a bad example? you know, cause he was like sixteen when he had us?

it took noctis a long time to get used to calling his younger self 'rin', when that still felt like it was his name.

it takes him a long time to stop responding to rin, but for all that, he can't really pinpoint the moment he stopped responding to it entirely, nor can he pinpoint the moment he started to respond to noctis without fail.

(ugh. he really wishes he'd picked a different name, though)

just. noctis looking in the mirror one day and realizing he's an adult now and that none of his friends will ever have the chance to grow up.

noctis: listen, rin. if you want to get piercings, get them now. you won't be able to do it later no matter how much you might want to.

yukio: aren't you supposed to tell us not to do that stuff?

rin: shut up yukio, don't make him change his mind!

the only times noctis hides his tail is when he has to go to the twins' school for any reason. hiding his horns is a little more complicated, once they start growing out, but he manages.

noctis at a parent teacher conference. what will he do.

(wish shiro was doing this instead.)

noctis listening to some mom prattle on about how rin attacked her son unprovoked, all while vividly remembering said incident from his childhood and knowing he sure as hell was provoked

shiemi looking at noctis post reveal, with the knowledge that rin is going to grow up to look like him one day and just. turning beet red.

rin: huh? no way! I'm going to look way cooler than him!

noctis: literally impossible, kid.

rin: don't call me kid! you're me!

noctis: yeah, but I'm like 32 years old and you're 16. so. kid.

rin and yukio are just. so weirded out by the fact that they've been calling an older version of rin 'dad' for years.

noctis: yeah, welcome to the club. i tried to get you two to call me nii-san, but you wouldn't listen.

rin: and you just went with it!?

noctis: shut up. you literally can't criticize any of my decisions.

yukio: he has a point, nii-san.

(rin squinting at noctis like. is he going to get a tail and horns when his seal breaks?)

noctis starts carrying kurikara around again after his true identity is exposed. he's also very clear to the order that if they try a single thing against either of his kids, he won't hesitate to turn on them in an instant.

(doesn't ask him when he started to think of rin and yukio as his kids for real. like a lot of things, it just sort of happened before he knew it. it is sort of funny watching them come to terms with something he's just sort of learned to roll with.)

juzo asks noctis for parenting advice, which throws him for a fucking loop. huah!? i mean, yeah, he guesses he did raise two kids but how is he still finding weird positions to be in??

rin: wait. so who raised you?

noctis: huh? shiro did.

rin & yukio, looking at shiro: grandpa...

shiro: NOPE, not doing that.

noctis, sensing a chance to mess with him: you're right! this is your grandpa shiro!

shiro: give me a break! i refuse to be called grandpa! i'm not that old!

[witchhazelevesque]

I had this idea for a body swap with Hazel and Leo, but I literally forgot about it for a few days so I'm putting it here so that doesn't happen again. I’ll try to expand it into an actual story but in case that doesn’t pan out:

So, body swap right, but it's outside point of view both because that'd be funnier and less about Hazel and Leo's existential crisis.

Anyway, it happens when they're on their quest after MoA, Jason's point of view first, finding them while the three are out on a side quest. They got separated for a little bit and when Jason finds them, they're being weird and panicky and he's like, oh god here we go again, because you know, there's been enough possessions. But the other two seem to get themselves together and rush Jason back to the ship and it's still weird because Leo's like, not making eye contact with him and doesn't seem interested in talking to him and Jason's just like, "no, bestie, what's wrong?". Because you know, Hazel’s still a little resentful of Jason, just a bit and he’s not the person she turns to in a pinch. She’s also less freaked out than Leo by now, Leo doesn’t even notice what’s going on, his thoughts are like that scene where SpongeBob can’t remember his name except with no fire because, ya know.

Nico's POV when the three get back to the ship and he clocks that they're being weird, the way Hazel just like, literally squeaks and ducks Frank's attempt to welcome her back with a hug, instead rushing down to the lower deck, yelling for Piper.

Frank joins Jason in the bummed crew, and then Nico does too when Hazel basically doesn't even notice him on her way past.

The actual Hazel-in-Leo's body does notice this and pauses long enough to pat Nico's shoulder comfortingly before running off to join the search for Piper. Nico freezes as who he thinks is Leo dashes off, Kill Bill sirens going off in his head because, like, what the fuck was that? (side note, Leo actually acted pretty much normal around Nico, even if he did talk some shit when he wasn't around, but like. Hazel's the only person that ever touches him so yeah).

Cut to Piper's POV, when they've all gathered in the mess hall and before anyone says anything, she clocks that the energy between Hazel, Leo and Frank has… shifted some kind a way and she is confused until Hazel and Leo finally explain what's going on. They figured Piper had the best chance of fixing them and were kind of too freaked out to let the others know ahead of time.

The irony of the situation is not lost on her.

Jump to Frank's point of view, and the matter of his lifeline hits him. Basically as soon as Leo and Hazel realized what was happening to them, Hazel knew she couldn't hold it anymore since she didn't know how to control Leo's fire, so Leo-in-Hazel's body left it where it was in Hazel's jacket pocket and he has been on the verge of a heart attack the whole time even though he knows that he can't burn it in this body.

And Frank is reeling and trying to stay calm but then he thinks about it and- okay, it's really not as bad as it could have been. He- actually doesn't believe Leo will let anything happen to him, so he makes eye contact with Leo behind Hazel's eyes and it's Significant(TM). Then they have to address Hazel's call to do what was the best option at the time of leaving that responsibility to Leo, so then Frank is making Significant(TM) eye contact with Hazel behind Leo's eyes and Frank is just- very confused, but also not at all confused because he knows between their four hands, his life will be fine. (These dummies didn’t even consider Frank just holding onto it).

Then he's watching Leo tapping Hazel's fingers and somehow jewels come sprouting up on the golden plates and there's this tense moment where Leo-in-Hazel's body and Hazel-in-Leo's body stare at it, wondering if it's cursed and how so and how any of this works and Leo-in-Hazel's body thinking that if the actual Hazel held onto it, it wouldn't count as cursed and it's this whole history repeats itself situation of her and Sammy and the diamond as Hazel's hands under Leo's direction hold the gem out to Leo's hands that Hazel has control over.

Anyway, it's a little more complicated to get everyone back in the right bodies than it took when they were possessed, so it's a few days of awkward and comedic situations and bitter parallels between Hazel and Leo and their different powers foisted on them by their fathers (also imagine if Hephaestus and Pluto were more social beings and also not incapacitated by the Roman-Greek divide, they'd meet up over this and see how it shakes out)

[mrs-pondwater19]

~ The Fallout ~

-Lucifer Possessed Sam x Fem Reader

-Synopsis: You've disbanded from the team after Sam accepts to be Lucifer's vessel for the apocalypse. Going nomad and settling somewhere in rural New England away from what's left of society in order to evade the Devil and the Croatoan Virus. As well as survive the fallout of the apocalypse in peace. Only to be met face to face with a shell of the man she loved dearly. The meeting is rather interesting, recalling the days before the apocalypse, an unholy adoration, all the things that were never said, and experiencing the cold touch of the Devil.

WC: 1,899

A/N: Hello my loves, been reading some fics lately with Sammy and got a little Inspired to write one of my own. I've really been thinking about the idea of possessed Sam and how dramatically tragic it would be, not that I'm entirely one for angst but it's certainly fun to write. I also really wished they would've explored the endverse little more. Just more so seeing where everyone ended up. This story is not only inspired by the episode "The End" but also heavily inspired by the song "Fallout" by Neoni and UNSECRET. Just thought it would fit the vibe.

This story will be split up into three parts otherwise it would be ridiculously long lol.

I hope you enjoy💕.

WARNINGS: S5 SPOILERS, Depression, recollections, mentions of past relationships, grieving, isolation, desolation, slight mentions of death/disappearances, an unexpected visit.

"Hush Now, Dry Your Eyes.

Fate Is Upon Us.

The Changing Of Times.

Welcome Blood Red Skies.

Burn In The Wake Of A World Left Behind."

The wind blew gently around you as you sat in the dead, overgrown grass on the edge of a lake near your property. Overlooking the dark murky water that reflected the dull grey sky and the dark evergreen trees that surrounded you. A scene you had burned into your brain a long time ago.

A shadow of what was and will never be again.

It was a place you frequented every so often, finding a strange sort of peace in the ruralness of it all. Finding comfort in the silence of what used to be a place once full of life. Or so you assumed anyways. You came here after everything had transpired.

After you left everything behind.

But lately you'd been coming more and more, almost everyday. Staying longer and longer each time. Mindlessly staring at the water as if it cast a spell on you.

A spell of grief and sorrow that never seemed to wear off.

And your tears never seemed to dry out along with it.

With every visit you found yourself recalling how you ended up here in the first place all that time ago. The events replaying in your mind over and over again like a broken projector.

Events that left a hole in your heart that never seemed to heal no matter how much time passed. It was still as fresh as the day it all began.

That fateful day when you, Dean and Sam tracked the devil down to Detroit. Despite your better judgement, you went along with it.

The day he said "yes" to the devil.

The day he said the one fucking word.

That was the day the world truly ended.

The day Sam Winchester died at the hands of Lucifer.

You'd hoped and prayed that you'd never see that day, even though everyone warned all of you. All the prophecies that said it was destined to happen. You wanted to believe he was stronger than that, that the prophecies were wrong about him, and that he would say no and walk away like all the times before.

But he didn't.

That day was the worst day of yours, Dean's, and Bobby's on life. Watching Sam, being broken down after denying Lucifer so many times, wearily, but willingly hand himself over to be the Devil's vessel. Watching someone you all loved so dearly inadvertently end their life in front of you.

You would've denied it if you hadn't seen it for yourself. You would've called anyone who said Sam succumbed to Lucifer a goddamn liar.

But seeing the way the Devil forced his way into Sam's body like a hungry serpent. And all you could do was watch helplessly as the darkness completely consumed Sam.

Leaving no trace of his soul to be found.

After that, things started to rapidly change. Not only in your group, but the world around you as a whole. Even though the apocalypse started months before, with electrical storms, catastrophes, and the results of the four horsemen wreaking havoc on the world.

Something shifted.

Something bigger.

Something worse.

A virus.

A virus that Lucifer and his followers had been working as soon as he was released from the confines of Hell.

The Croatoan Virus.

Once it hit the mainstream, things were out of yours and any other hunters' control.

Mass extinction plagued the earth. Millions died within the first few weeks of exposure. Some came back as undead and crawled about, exposing others and spreading the virus like wildfire. Anyone who managed to evade the virus banded together groups in the countryside trying to survive with very little if given the opportunity. Or face the fallout alone.

When you, Dean and Cas formed your group, you hoped to find your place in the world.

But you didn't.

Instead you just felt lost. Unsure of where to go or what to do in this new world.

No matter what you did, you never seem to quite fit into it all.

And as much as you didn't want to. You knew you had to leave. Be on your own for a little while and sort yourself out. Using the excuse that you needed to find your way elsewhere and avoid the virus. Not wanting to risk contracting it and becoming a husk like being. Along with wanting to keep your distance from Dean. As much as it stung, it was a means to keep him safe when Lucifer would begin to seek him out. Knowing the first place he'd look was amongst his friends and loved ones.

Which they weren't complete lies. They were valid reasons for wanting to get away and be on your own for a while.

But deep down you and everyone else knew what the true reason was for you leaving your small group with Dean. Even if you never said it aloud.

It wasn't the same without Sam.

You weren't the same without Sam.

Everyone around you saw how different you were after that fateful day. How you were no longer your optimistic self, how you closed yourself off and began to just some distance between you and the group. Never taking up Dean's offers when he would go on hunts. Or when Cas tried to explain the situation with Sam rationally you just shut him down and put a barrier up, telling him you didn't want to talk about it.

You had become unreachable to the people who cared about you.

Even though you cared about the boys and loved them, you couldn't bear to be around the people you came to call family. Not without constantly remembering the memories before the apocalypse.

When life was simple.

Seeing them carry on without Sam was too painful.

And seeing the pain in their eyes as they watched you become something you weren't made your heart shatter. Feeling as if you were a stranger amongst the people you called family.

It was as if the day the Devil took Sam. He took a piece of you with him.

You knew you couldn't put your loved ones through that anymore. They already lost Sam, they didn't need to watch you die too.

So with a heavy heart, you said your goodbyes. Telling Dean and Cas that you were sorry for leaving, but that you'd be in touch.

That you'd miss them.

You even called up Bobby, letting him know you were going nomad for a little while.

He seemed to be the only one who understood why. And for that you respected him a little more.

Once you said your goodbyes, you left. Never looking back as you made your way up North to the thick, dense forest of New England.

Where you knew no one would find you.

"Down to the ashes.

Bones are left to dry

Waves of desolation

There's nowhere safe to hide."

Late afternoon set in as you sat on the edge of the water. Shaking your mind away from your thoughts when you heard the thunder rumbling in the distance. A gentle fog creeping in around you. Creating a small mist over the glass like water of the lake.

You knew you shouldn't be sulking the way you were. It wasn't going to help you or fix the way you felt.

It only seemed to make things worse.

But it also gave you a sense of clarity.

The world you knew before was gone.

A thing of the past now.

Most of the world had been burned to the ground, nothing but dry bones and ashes.

The angels had abandoned humanity and retreated back to heaven. Leaving you all to fight this war alone, expecting you all to fail.

That was reality.

But you had spent enough time wallowing and grieving about the past and what the world had become for one day. Fatigued from your neverending reminiscing, you found yourself looking over the lake one last time. Burning into your mind before brushing off your pants and making sure your gun was loaded before you turned away. Walking down the path you had beaten all that time ago when you first came to this desolate place.

As you walked, feeling the dead grass crunch softly under your boots. It was calm, the sound of birds chirped in the distance, the ambient sounds of the forest filled your ears. The wind blew gently around you, the smell of wet moss, old wood, and fresh fog filled your nose as you walked on.

It almost made you forget all things that brought you here in the first place.

Until you felt something in the air shift. Feeling a sense of anxiety shudder throughout your body as the wind went still.

A chill slowly running up your spine. The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Your heart beats thumping a little faster than before.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

Because it all felt too familiar.

At first you couldn't place it, but you remembered the feeling. The unsettling dread in the pit of your stomach. The heavy weight that seemed to hang off your body.

What was it that made you feel so afraid?

Then it hit you.

When you realized what caused these feelings before now, your heart stopped dead in your chest. Tears were prickling in your eyes as you began to search around for the cause of your fear.

Of your heartache.

For him.

When you couldn't see him at first. You panicked, thinking it was some sort of trick your mind was playing on you. Maybe you had been out here for too long. And as a result you were feeling things that weren't there. That you were hallucinating.

But you couldn't have been more wrong.

Once you scurried down the path a little more, pulling your gun into position as you made your way past the misty kissed birch and cedar trees. Looking all around like you were surrounded on all sides, and yet there was nothing in sight.

But when you glanced at the patch of poison hemlock in a little clearing not too far off the path. That's when you saw him.

His clean, crisp white suit caught your eye as he stood there. Calm and peaceful as he admired the poisonous plant, caressing the flowers with care as if they were the most beautiful, fragile thing in the world.

He found you.

You stared at him in awe, the gun now slung at your side as tears silently streamed down your face as you tried to understand.

How could he have possibly found you?

But the truth was it was obvious. If he had a sense of who Sam was. He knew that Sam knew you'd flee to someplace like this. Somewhere quiet and quaint, somewhere isolated. So truly it was only a matter of time before he found you.

And in that moment, seeing him in the patch of hemlocks, the fog settled around his feet. How the crisp, pure white of his suit contrasted the dark evergreens and greys of the forest, how he seemed so unbothered by it all. As if he expected this to happen.

You realized you were never going to find a safe place to hide from him. There was no place you could hide where he wouldn't find you.

Because he would always find you.

~To be Continued~