#bottom left - they call crowley his 'boyfriend'

[greeneyed-thestral]

[kinkscholar]

The Lion & the Human

minors please do not interact!

top!amab reader x bottom!leona | ft. male lactation, degradation, breeding kink, mild pregnancy kink if you squint

2.3k words

By now it was common knowledge at NRC that something can and will go wrong. Your boyfriend, Leona just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

You heard a brief story from Trey about how some noxious fume as a result of two poorly mixed chemicals had managed to attack not only the entirety of the science club, but your boyfriend as he passed the door. Some second year students made a huge mistake, now Leona had himself locked away in his room. This wasn't entirely unheard of, it was the lazy second born prince after all — but the strange urgent tone the third year spoke with, and that frown on his face left you worried for your lover.

Unfortunately you had a few things to do as the prefect, most of which practically being the dirty work for Crowley. With that completed, your eyes wandered to your phone to check the time. A few hours had passed since Trey sought you out, the only thing on your mind being the hope that Leona was alright.

Swiftly, you made your way to Savanaclaw, brushing past the countless students and finding yourself outside his dorm. Ruggie stood outside, his ears flicking, sheepishly he flashed you a grin and stepped aside without a single word. Sure, Leona was practically your bitch, but usually the hyena wanted a thing or two before he complied with your demands. This day was just far too strange as is so you moved on without giving it much thought.

As you entered the room, you closed the door behind you quickly — immediately you were met with the sight of your boyfriend. He sported a look of pure discomfort, his face twisted into a grimace as his ears and tail flicked around idly. Leona was positioned against the headboard, slightly curled in on himself as if he were in pain. Worry flooded through you, regardless you took it upon yourself to lock the door, certain he would hate to be displayed with such vulnerability to other eyes — especially that of the Savanaclaw dorm's members.

"Leona, baby?" You called out as you cautiously stepped forward, worried about just what the hell he was going through to cause him to look so miserable.

What made matters worse is he barely acknowledged anything, his eyes squeezed shut momentarily as he panted out softly, breath hitched as if he were straining himself. "Mmm.." Was Leona's only response as his eyes finally met your own. They looked at your with that same neediness you remember all too well from the countless times you've fucked him senseless. Your dick stirred in your pants at the thought but you assumed this was far too inappropriate for the moment.

You moved closer, taking note of the sweat that beaded down his forehead, making his face look as if it were glowing. Even when suffering he was painfully handsome. "What's wrong, kitty?" The words spoken like honey rolled off of your tongue with ease as your hand gently cupped his cheek, thumb rubbing against the flesh as you observed him with worry.

He mumbled something incoherently as his head leaned towards the warmth of your palm, his mouth slightly ajar as he panted softly, his fangs visible. Leona truly looked miserable, you felt terrible for him.

"Speak up, I can't hear you, Leona." Your tone was more firm, that seemed to snap some sense of awareness into the lion as his emerald eyes seemed to focus on you better.

"Damn herbivores with their potions..." His voice trailed as he shifted to sit up more, rather than silence a noise escaped him. "Nghh—" Fuck, that was hot. Your eyes widened slightly as you watched him moan right in front of you over seemingly nothing.

"Leona?" You could finally muster out as you prayed that the tent that began to form in your pants wasn't visible to his clouded mind.

"Shit — Prefect, just get outta here." The brunette grumbled as he didn't put much of an effort to get you out of his room.

"No way. What the hell is going on with you?" Your tone grew demanding again, Leona knew you would put up a fight, nor had he the right to be so cryptic with you. He quickly sighed as his tail curled inward and his ears flattened atop his head.

There was no point in beating around the bush. "That potion shit messed me up." Rather than verbally state just what was going on, he opted to show you. His gloved hands moved to his leather jacket, pulling it down and revealing a large issue. Or — issues for that matter.

You had to practically force your jaw to close as you had to bear witness to the wet spots that found themselves on either side of his shirt. Not to mention his chest seemed to strain further against the cloth than normal, his chest was larger and he was lactating. Only the Seven probably knew what the fuck those science club kids meant to do — but you knew for sure that all of the blood that rushed to your cock at the sight wouldn't go unnoticed much longer.

"Holy shit." Was all you could say as your hand trailed from his face to his chest. Was it kind to grope the sensitive and leaking, yet clothed chest of your boyfriend? No, but you did it anyway. As you squeezed one of his tits Leona couldn't help but moan out at the gesture. He really sounded like a bitch in heat. This didn't help anything at all.

"Fuck—" Your boyfriend cursed under his breath as his back arched slightly beneath your hand. Painfully sensitive. You couldn't hold back much longer.

"Leona, baby ..." Your voice lowered as your eyes wandered to his eyes from his chest. "Can I help you?"

"Ain't that why you're here? Hurry up." Leona whined at the end of his sentence.

You didn't need to be told twice for anything, your hands greedily took the bottom hem of his shirt, pulling it up above his chest. In awe you soaked in the sight. His chest was swollen and puffy, his nipples far more shades darker than normal, beads of an off white liquid leaked from his chest like a faucet.

God.

There was no need to contain anything, your hands grasped his whore waist as you leaned your head to one of his neglected breasts, latching onto the teat like a newborn cub. The taste was sweet, better than anything — then again that could just be the lust clouding your mind.

He moaned beneath you as his hips jerked up, his own erect cock trapped beneath his jeans, rubbing against your form as you drank from him. Leona was quickly becoming undone, all because of his chest. What a slut. You'd practically pinned him to the headboard as you abused his tit with your mouth. His moans and cries laced heavily with whining, his head thrown back as he threatened to cum already — threatening to soil his jeans in his own fluids — all because you had him beneath you like some breeding bitch, drinking his milk.

With one done you shifted to the other, pulling his body closer to your own, rutting your clothed dick against his own, moaning on his chest. The vibrations only sent him closer to the edge, his hands moving up into your hair and gripping some of it in a fist as his cries of pleasure grew more broken.

It wasn't long before you grew impatient, pulling back to the dismay of Leona, him huffing as you fumbled to remove his clothes. Slipping the jeans down past his boxers, looking to the sizable wet spot that found itself at the top of the tent that formed. "What a slut." You remarked breathlessly, his cock twitching from your words alone.

"Shut the hell up and hurry — please." His plead came soft, you heard him, but weren't satisfied.

"What was that?" You questioned him, removing your own attire, letting your boxers fall to your ankles as you idly stroked your cock, groaning softly as a trail of precum dribbled out and down the shaft and hit your hand.

Leona was miserable already, and this didn't help. Not only had you opted to get him far more worked up than he wanted, but you immediately took to touching yourself in front of him — while he sat there neglected and needy. "Please." Your boyfriend replied, louder this time. "Please, please hurry up and fuck me."

With that you grinned, so easily had he begged. "You really are like a bitch in heat." Your hands moved from your dick to his boxers, pulling them down as his cock sprung out — a moan softly escaping his lips as the cooler air hit his greedy little dick. A hand moved to his tip, rubbing it as you pressed your thumb down over the hole. His breath hitched beneath you, his whines growing louder.

More often than not you would force him to grab the lube and lather your dick in it – but right now you chose at least some ounce of kindness, moving closer to his form as you reached over to his desk, grabbing a bottle of lube that was stashed behind his lamp. Beneath you he moaned, some part of your body brushed against his sensitive chest, you couldn't help but grin. With one hand you opened the lube, pouring a generous amount onto your cock and discarding the bottle to the side for the time being, spreading it all over as you lined yourself up with his hole.

"Such a fucking whore. I shouldn't be so kind to you. You should thank me for getting ready to fuck you full of cubs." You spoke in a low tone, your eyes preying upon his slutty form as if it were worth a million thaumarks. "Thank me, bitch."

Your demands were met with his dick twitching beneath your hand and a moan out of pure lust erupting from his throat. In true Leona fashion he panted beneath you. "Thank you. Thank you—" He groaned out, his body shuddering. "Fuck me. Fuck me, Prefect — please." His pleas are like a mantra.

Without hesitation you rammed your cock into his hole, removing your hand from his dick as you pounded into him ruthlessly. Rather than let the opportunity go to waste, both of your hands moved up to his sensitive nipples. You rolled them beneath your thumbs, treating the countless moans and breathless words that eacaped your boyfriend as you fucked him ruthlessly like they were nothing more than background noise.

Leona was already a mess, the milk that spilled from his chest trailing down his toned form. "Seven, Leona..." You remarked as you relished in the sight of his body. "You look so hot like this. All sensitive—" Your own voice was cut off by a groan that left your lips, you grew closer, forcing yourself to move quicker and more rough. "All swollen. Just imagine — You filled with my kids. I'd keep you on this dick til all you could say was my name." You growled down at him, for a human your instincts rivaled some beastmen.

Any amount of words that he may have tried to form were cut off by his mouth slightly ajar, drool pouring from the corners of his mouth as his moans were just about the only thing you could make out. You could tell by this alone he was dangerously close.

Your hands moved from his leaking tits to his sides as your nails dug in deep, bringing your head to the nape of his neck as you bit down like a wild animal. The only thing on your mind pressing yourself deeper, getting closer to his womb and cumming in him, filling him up with your seed and guaranteeing him pregnant. Of course this wasn't possible, yet — but your lust driven mind could care less. His tits were leaking milk after all. Leona was close to breeding bitch territory as is. Asking countless times in a month, at obscure times and even encouraging you to skip class, all to fuck him senseless.

Your movement was rough and erratic as you drew closer to the edge, eventually releasing what felt like a gallon of your hot seed into his hole. Leona came shortly after — crying out your name and spilling his cum over his and your torsos. He rocked out an orgasm against your dick, his knuckles pale as his hands gripped onto the blankets beneath him for dear life.

Eventually you had to pull off from him, the deep bite dug into his neck, the two of you panting out like dogs in the summer heat. Slowly you withdrew yourself from his ass, seed spilling from his abused hole. You laid beside him as you soaked in just what the two of you just did. It was abrupt and nothing more than a lust filled session. You could only hope he felt better, your eyes wandering to his face.

Leona seemed far less uncomfortable, his eyes half lidded as he finally looked like he would be able to sleep. You then eyes his chest, the swelling went down somewhat. They still seemed rather full, yet no milk seemed to escape them any longer.

Even in such a state you couldn't help but admire him, he was handsome, fucked senseless and was most definitely going to scold you for this entire ordeal. You knew deep down that not only he was grateful for you, but enjoyed this entire situation. He was such a needy lion after all.

As you opted to save the cleanup for a bit later, you wrapped an arm around your now sleeping boyfriend, pulling his form closer to you.

Despite how unfortunate the situation was to him and everyone else who may have been affected, you could only hope something like this would happen again. Maybe you could bribe the science club next time for something more.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s7e23 survival of the fittest (w. sera gamble)

CROWLEY You know what I like about you? DICK ROMAN Lack of pretension? CROWLEY You're smarter than you look. DICK ROMAN Oh, well, now you're just flirting.

even him flirting with crowley i can't get myself to care 😔

(i only point out some of the fatphobia since it's so prevalent but know i see it and get irritated every damn time :p)

SAM We can call Castiel again. DEAN Dude, on my car, he showed up naked... covered in bees. SAM Yeah, I'm not really sorry I missed that.

okay but this was clearly adr'd/dubbed over when he says "covered in bees" haha was this something else at some point? i've never noticed a really obvious adr/dub like that on this show before

DEAN Well… let's bone this nun.

i like the zero reaction from sam. just keep the serious concerned about to desecrate a righteous nun's grave face on. dean why are you like this, you goober

MEG I was laying low halfway across the world when emo boy pops up out of nowhere and zaps me right back here. DEAN Why? MEG Go ask him. He was your boyfriend first.

the images at the top with cas in the car, i felt that in my soul. dealing with my kids 🤪 the deep breath to gather every scrap of patience. they also chose to make it look like he's gettin his dick sucked through the car window, which is a choice

dean looks so much smaller in a leather jacket that actually fits him. also itching to get the trimmer. i just need two minutes with padalecki's face...

solidarity sandwich

just get through this episode and the leviathans will be done, right?

hackin the gibson

DEAN We can't leave it. You let these friggin' things in. So you don't get to make a sandwich. You don't get a damned cat. Nobody cares that you're broken, Cas. Clean up your mess!

i'm glad someone's still mad lol

BOBBY Here's to... running into you guys on the other side. Only... not too soon. All right?

i mean. dean will be too soon, when it finally takes.

DEAN Yeah, but you know what? Bottom of the ninth, and you're the only guy left on the bench... Sorry, but I'd rather have you, cursed or not. And anyway, nut up, all right? We're all cursed. I seem like good luck to you? What? CASTIEL Well, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I detect a note of forgiveness. DEAN Yeah, well, I'm probably gonna die tomorrow, so... CASTIEL Well, I'll go with you. And I'll do my best.

well. i guess since he's a good guy, we have to forgive him at some point. even if it doesn't make a lot of sense to budge right now

stunt baby has tinted windows apparently

CROWLEY It looks like you are well and truly... on your own.

oh, sam. losing bobby for good and dean in one go...

i do have a vague idea what he gets up to while dean's in purgatory (from fic) but no idea how it's actually executed

pretty shot, but so dark

welp. i felt a twinge of something when they melted bobby's flask with an apparently extremely hot fire, but. i think if it had happened back earlier when it was closer to all the other bits of his story, it would have had more impact. but by now it's just... blegh.

what a lackluster ending to a lackluster storyline

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 6: Cemetery Boys

Mature | Biker!Dean/Castiel | Destiel | 5,285

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

Castiel was sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant when Benny slid into the seat across from him. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his rough jeans and flannel amid the midday lunch crowd all in skirts and suits. It took Castiel a moment to pick his jaw up off the table but when he did, he was livid.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Relax buddy I’m just here to deliver a message.”

“You can’t be here. I’m waiting for someone.” Castiel glanced around, noting that a few eyes flicked away, their interest peaked by the rough and tumble man who clearly wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Yeah, yeah I know. Your boyfriend.” Benny rolled his eyes, hooking his elbow over the back of the chair, and gazed around the space. He smiled wolfishly at an old lady who immediately averted her eyes. “You find it ironic that you went from dating a man on one side of the law and then immediately jumped into bed with a guy on the other?”

Castiel grit his teeth. “I did not immediately - Look I didn’t like you when we ran in the same circles so if you’d be so kind as to show yourself to the door.”

“Right back at’cha, sweet cheeks.” Benny grinned. “But the prez sent me on an errand and I gotta complete it.” Benny’s face turned serious as he leaned over the table, lowering his voice.“Some shit’s about to go down.”

Castiel blinked then leaned in as well, his own voice a low rumble. “That sounds like a ‘you’ problem.”

Benny snorted. “Look I dunno if your new boyfriend talks shop with you but the Demons aren’t taking too kindly to his new two strikes policy. They put out a hit on him.”

Castiel squinted at him. “Why are you telling me this?”

Benny examined his fingernails. “Figured you’d wanna know.”

Castiel bit his lower lip, thinking. “No. No, you wouldn’t come here-“

Benny sat up straighter in his chair. “You’re right I wouldn’t. But the VP gives an order, I follow it.” Benny leaned closer. 

Castiel clenched his jaw. “Dean sent you.”

Benny lifted his hands and clapped loudly four times, drawing every eye in the room to them. Castiel sunk down in his seat. “Now you’re catching on.” Benny grinned, eyeing Castiel. “So, what is it like fucking the D.A. fresh off bein’ a biker’s old lady?” Benny gestured loosely. “So to speak.”

“You need to leave.” Castiel nodded towards the door. “Now. You have no right to interrupt my lunch-“

“Looks like I was interrupting you being stood up, but okay.”

“-with bullshit. I told Dean to stay out of my life and I meant it. Sending you instead is not a loophole. It’s a waste of your time.”

Benny snorted. “Don’t I know it.” He sucked his teeth. “But say I am right. And your shining beacon of civil obedience does have a price on his head. Would meeting him for lunch right now really be that good of an idea.”

Castiel grit his teeth. “If Dean thinks he can come in and disrupt my-“

“Hello, darling. So sorry I’m late.” A man in a dark suit, impeccably tailored, rushed by, leaning to peck Castiel on the cheek. When his eyes fell on Benny he barely even blinked. “Benny Laffitte, where’s your kutte, it’s not often you see a Man of Mayhem out of uniform unless it’s in my courtroom.”

Benny gave him a wan smile. “Crowley. Just passing on information to your beau here. I’ll be on my way.” Benny stood from his seat, towering over Crowley

Crowley’s eyes narrowed. “What information is that, pray tell?”

Benny grinned down at him. “I ain’t no snitch, Mr. Prosecutor. Ask your boy.” Benny gave Castiel a nod before he swaggered away, a hush following him through the room so that the clang of his hand on the glass door rang out when he exited.

Castiel sat back, chewing his bottom lip as Crowley took his seat, grabbing the napkin on his plate and draping it in his lap. “You want to tell me what that was all about.” Crowley reached for the bottle of water on the table, tipping some into his goblet then topping off Castiel’s.

Castiel brooded for a moment. “Nothing. It was nothing. Just…”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “Just?”

Castiel heaved a sigh. “Dean thinks the Demons have a hit out on you.”

Crowley blinked, setting the bottle back down. “Well, it’s a good thing you were never inducted into The Cemetery Boys because you fold like a cheap suit my love.”

“Oh shut up,” Castiel groused, reaching for his water glass but he was smiling by the time it touched his lips. Crowley gave him a smirk. “So… it’s ridiculous right?”

Crowley raised his brows, hooking his elbows on the table and holding one hand in the other. “Oh know they have a bounty on my head.”

Castiel choked on his water. “Wh-what?”

“No need to worry, darling. It’s merely a formality so they look tough for all the other little gangs around town.” Crowley sipped at his water. 

“The MC never put hits out on anyone just to look tough,” Castiel objected, looking horrified and Crowley lifted a brow.

“Oh did they put them out for other reasons?”

Castiel’s eyes went flat. “The Cemetery Boys are a group of motorcycle enthusiasts. The worst thing they’re guilty of is drinking too much on a weeknight.” Castiel scoffed when Crowley smirked.

“Drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, racketeering, sports betting-“

“Alright, alright,” Castiel huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked around the room for a moment before glancing back at his boyfriend. “You’re safe though?”

Crowley’s eyes softened, his hand reaching across the table. Castiel took it. “I’m touched. Yes, safe as houses.”

#

When Castiel pulled into his apartment complex that evening after work he couldn’t help but notice the Harley parked across the street from his building. A young man was sitting astride it, eyes on his phone. Castiel slammed the door to his car watching as the young man jumped and met his eyes before he immediately looked down again. Castiel sighed, striding over with purposeful steps.

“Hello, Sam.”

The young man looked up, his shaggy hair hanging in his eyes before he shook it back. “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel looked around. “Where’s your brother?”

Sam shifted. “Dunno.”

“He wouldn’t have you here by yourself. Where is he?”

Sam’s face screwed up, indignant. “Hey, I’m a Prospect now!” He twisted so Castiel could get a look at the designation on the back of his leather vest.

Castiel’s brow creased. “I thought you were going to Stanford.”

Sam’s head dipped, fiddling with his phone again. “Nah, I belong here. With my family.”

Castiel placed a hand on his shoulder. “Sam, you wanted to be a lawyer.”

Sam shrugged him off. “Yeah well, now I wanna be a Cemetery Boy. What do you care anyway? You left.”

Castiel’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I was with Dean for a long time-“

“Yeah. And you left.”

“-and you know why I left. It’s why you left too.”

Sam leveled his gaze on Castiel. “Yeah. And I came back.” He paused. “It’s not safe for you right now. Crowley’s got a detail but you don’t. He should be protecting you.”

“I don’t need protecting, Sam!” Castiel sighed exasperatedly. “And if I did it wouldn’t be your job to do it. Or Dean’s.”

Sam shifted, his hazel eyes going soft in a way that Castiel knew was going to hit him right in the gut. “You could come back too. You don’t have to pledge-“

Castiel started to laugh. “Yeah, no. I’ve moved on.” Castiel made to turn away. “Tell your brother he should do the same.”

“He has!” Sam called after him, voice petulant. “New girl every night!”

Castiel’s eyes cut over his shoulder at Sam before heading up the stairs to his apartment.

#

The creak of his bedroom door woke Castiel from a dead sleep at 2:13 am. His eyes opened to his alarm clock, fluttered for a moment as his brain cleared. The sound of a hammer locking into place brought everything into sharp perspective and before he even took a breath he’d rolled off the side of the bed, the gunshot booming impossibly loud in the silent room. 

He didn’t have a weapon, had always hated guns, but crouched between his closet and his mattress he would have given anything to have Dean’s pearl-handled .45. He’d give anything to have Dean here. The sound of boots on hardwood thunked closer and Castiel stood abruptly, grabbed a pillow and threw it. 

It hit the intruder in the face and the gun went off again, the flash bringing spots to Castiel’s vision as he rushed the guy, knocking him hard in Castiel’s dresser. The intruder was trying to get the gun up and Castiel grabbed for the lamp, smashing it over the guy’s head as he made a break for the door. Pinballing off the hallway walls he tripped into the living room just as his front door was kicked in.

Dean Winchester charged forward, reaching for Castiel on instinct and shoving him behind him. The intruder emerged from the bedroom, gun outstretched and Dean brought the bat he held up and swung. The sickening crack of a wrist breaking, followed by an inhuman howl of pain turned Castiel’s stomach and he had to hold on to the back of his couch to keep from hitting the floor. Another sickening crack of the bat and the horrid sucking sound of a man trying to pull in a breath his body won’t accept.

“Dean.” Castiel turned his head, immediately snapping his eyes shut when he saw Dean raise the bat over his head but thanks to the sound of it cracking across the intruder’s back, Castiel’s brain unhelpfully provided him with a visual. “Dean! Please!”

Dean froze bat aloft and looked over, finding Castiel hanging on to the back of his couch, legs trembling beneath him. He was sucking in breath through his nose and letting it out of his mouth slowly as if trying not to vomit. Dean dropped the bat.

“‘ey Cas,” Dean grabbed his biceps and immediately pulled him to his chest. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

“W-w-who was that. What….what’s happening?”

Dean petted his hair, sucking in a deep breath as Castiel’s arms went around him feebly, Castiel leaning all his weight against Dean. Dean pressed his face to the top of Castiel’s head. “Nothin’ for you to worry about. You’re safe now.”

#

“I want a uniformed officer on this building at all times. No one should come in and out of here without express clearance. Is that clear!?”

Dean and Castiel watched from where they stood leaning against the back of the couch as Crowley continued his rampage. Dean leaned towards Castiel.

“He’s pretty intimidating for a short guy. I’ll admit it.” Dean shrugged and Castiel cut his eyes at him.

“He’s not short. You and your brother are just freakishly tall.”

“He’s shorter than you.”

“I too am taller than average.”

Dean pounced. “Since when do you like average?”

Castiel’s head whipped to look at him. “Since it generally follows the law.”

Dean made a face. “A whole hell of a lot of good it did you tonight.”

“Winchester, what are you even doing here!” It seemed that Crowley’s tirade had finally turned to him and Dean gave him a placid smile.

“Oh just taking care of Cas here. You know. What you should have been doing.”

Castiel raised a hand. “Hey, hey now. This was no one’s fault.”

“Really,” Dean asked, his eyes ablaze as he glanced at Castiel and then lanced Crowley with a heated stare. “Last time I checked, D. A. Douchebag here had a security detail. Why wasn’t he protected, huh?”

“There were no credible threats on-”

“It’s the Demons, Crowley!” Dean shook his head, his face slack in disbelief. “They always make good on their threats. He should have had someone on him from the second you got the intel two days ago.”

“Wait, what?” Castiel looked to Crowley astonished. “Fergus, is he telling the truth? Did you know about this and not tell me?”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest, looking supremely satisfied as Crowley’s face soured. He looked from Dean to Castiel. “Darling,” Crowley took Castiel’s hands in his, leading him away from Dean. “I would never put you in harm’s way. I’m appalled you’d even think it. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to the intel. I thought…” Crowley pursed his lips. “I thought no one would dare go after you.” His eyes cut to Dean, gaze hateful. “I was wrong.”

“Damn right you were wrong,” Dean accused, pointing a finger at Crowley. “And it almost got him killed.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighed, holding up a hand.

“What? Cas you can’t possibly be giving him a pass on this.” Dean’s voice was indignant.

“Dean you can’t possibly think that he knowingly let this happen.”

“I think something stinks in here and it ain’t the biker,” Dean snapped.

Castiel sighed, reaching for Dean’s shoulder and forcing him to turn towards the door. ‘Thank you. For… for…”

“Saving you,” Dean supplied and Castiel fought the roll of his eyes.

“Yes, thank you for that, but I think the police have it from here.”

Dean glanced over his shoulder and leaned closer into Castiel. “I don’t trust him, Cas. There’s something really fishy about this.”

“You’re paranoid, Dean.”

“It’s not paranoia if you’re right.”

Castiel sighed again, rubbing his forehead. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“You should come to the clubhouse. It’s safe and no one would-“

“Good night, Dean.”

Den pressed his lips together, throwing one last scowl over his shoulder at Crowley before giving Castiel a pleading look that went unanswered. He heaved a sigh and left.

#

Castiel laid awake a long time after Crowley had fallen asleep, listening to his light snores. They’d talked after the police cleared out, Crowley apologizing profusely for not taking the threat more seriously. Something continued to niggle at Castiel, some deep-seated intuition that wouldn’t let him sleep.

Castiel: Dean?

Dean: Yeah, Cas.

Castiel: I wasn’t sure if you still had this number

Dean: Looks like I do.

Dean: Everything okay?

Castiel’s thumbs hovered over the screen as he chewed his bottom lip. 

Castiel: Yeah. Yeah, everything is fine. I’m sorry for bothering you.

Dean: It’s no bother Cas. Message me any time.

Dean: Or call. 

Castiel put his phone back on the bedside table and resettled but sleep didn’t come.

#

Castiel’s unease stayed with him through the morning and well into the next afternoon. Crowley had assured him that the threat on him had been neutralized but agreed to keep a uniform officer on him when Castiel didn’t let up. He couldn’t focus at work, his mind drifting to Crowley and what he was doing, who he was talking to. Was he safe? Was Castiel? By the time evening came, he had a pretty terrible headache and a determination to get some answers.

Rocky’s Bar is a ramshackle establishment off route 6 that Castiel had hoped to never set foot in. The fact that the Cemetery Boys ran nightclubs all over town was a well-known fact as was their reputation for keeping order in these establishments. Castiel just wasn’t much for strip clubs, especially those run by his ex-boyfriend. 

Stepping inside he expected to smell cigar smoke and sex but instead was greeted by a pleasant, feminine scent, sweet and cloying but not overbearing. He spotted Dean immediately behind the bar, grinning at a scantily clad woman as he loaded drinks onto her tray. Castiel stamped down the flare of jealousy in his gut.

Dean was watching the show now, eyes on the girl spinning on the pole as he wiped down glasses behind the bar. Castiel sidled up and it took Dean a minute to look at him. When he did he dropped the glass he’d been wiping so that it shattered on the floor. 

“Shit!” Dean hopped back to avoid glass spraying over the toes of his boots. “Cas? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I need answers.”

Dean had moved down the bar going for a broom that was tucked in a corner. He paused, looking back over his shoulder at Castiel. His jaw tightened as he turned away again, snatching the broom and coming back over to sweep up his mess.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

“I did,” Castiel said, pausing to watch Dean methodically push glass into the dustpan. “Now I’m asking you.”

“What’d he tell you?” Dean set the broom and dustpan aside, crossing his arms over his chest and Castiel was not at all distracted by the flex of his biceps and the way his shirt stretched around his muscles. He wasn’t wearing his kutte, just a black v-neck and jeans.

“That I was safe. That the threat had been neutralized.”

Dean’s eyes widened just the slightest bit before his face went dangerously blank. He turned his head, looking down the bar, and then returned his gaze to the stage. Castiel huffed, annoyed, and stepped into his line of sight.

“Do you ever get tired of looking at tits?”

Dean snorted. “Absolutely not.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and turned to stomp off. “Never mind. I don’t even know why I bothered to come here.”

Dean was out from behind the bar in a microsecond, reaching for Castiel’s arm before worming in front of him, blocking his exit. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You want answers? I’ll give them to you. Just… “ Dean looked around and his eyes landed on something over Castiel's shoulder. He cocked his head back and Castiel glanced back to see Benny dutifully pulling himself up from an armchair and making his way over. He begrudgingly took Dean’s place behind the bar.

Upstairs in the office, Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. It was a tiny space, just big enough for the large desk and a few filing cabinets. Dean wormed his way behind the desk and Castiel forced himself into the small armchair across from him. There were posters of half-naked women on the walls and Castiel was once again struck with an extreme sense of inadequacy. Dean loved women, but Castiel knew Dean has also loved him.

“So you wanna hear word on the street or just straight facts?” Dean was pulling out a bottle of whiskey from one of the drawers along with two mugs. One of them was the one Castiel got him for Christmas two years ago that said “Send Noods” with a bowl of Ramen noodles. 

“Let's start with facts,” Castiel said showing Dean his palm, declining the drink. Dean shrugged and poured himself one.

“The fact is that the Demons are going after Crowley and the people close to him.” Dean picked up his mug. “You.” He sipped. “They’re using out of towners, seasoned guys not prospects.” Dean’s eyes leveled on Castiel. “That makes it a serious threat.”

“Why?” Castiel asked, shifting in his seat.

“Prospects are idiots,” Dean waved a hand then pursed his lips. “My brother excluded.” Dean shook his head. “You don’t give important jobs to prospects. They’re meant for grunt work and low-level intimidation. That guy I clubbed in your apartment was a Nomad - an out-of-state-er, no home club. Meant to blow in and out of town, generally used for serious shit they don’t want traced back to the local club.”

“O-kay.”

Dean sighed, seemingly annoyed that Castiel wasn’t understanding something. “These guys are one step down from trained assassins, Cas. It was a serious threat.”

“Why would Crowley lie to me?” Castiel burst out and Dean downed the rest of his drink.

“I dunno, Cas. Why do you think?”

Castiel bristled. “Oh, I guess you have an opinion?”

Dean gave him a smarmy grin. “Oh, I have several.”

“This is stupid.” Castiel threw his hands in the air. “I shouldn’t have come here.” 

Castiel made to leave but Dean stood, gripping his wrist and refusing to let go. “Cas, wait. Come on. This is serious okay? I assume he put a uni on you?”

“Yeah but I ditched him,” Castiel settled back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean rubbed his face hard. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I didn’t want Crowley to know I came to you, Dean. Why do you think?” Castiel scoffed shaking his head and Dean set his jaw.

“What he got a problem with me or something?”

Castiel gave him a deadpan stare the lifted a finger, counting off each, “Drug trafficking, weapons trafficking, racketeering-“

Dean hissed waving his hands at Castiel. “Alright alright, enough.” Dean sighed. “Word on the street is that Alaistair put the hit out because your boyfriend,” Dean looked disgusted as he said it, “is trying to go maximum sentence when he’s only at two strikes.”

“Didn’t Alaistair maim and torture two immigrant women?”

“Yeah, but they were stealing his coke when they were supposed to be muling it.”

Castiel blinked. “So he tortured and maimed them?”

Dean gave a shrug.

Castiel felt his stomach go cold. “Do you do that?”

Dean gave a shrug then smiled. “We don’t run drugs, Cas. We’re just a group of motorcycle enthusiasts.” 

Castiel rolled his eyes. “That’s it? That’s all the information you have?”

Dean shifted in his seat. “There’s some other things. In-fighting and some club shit you don’t need to know but it’s not relevant to you or your safety.”

“But it’s about Crowley?”

Dean gave a short nod.

“What is it?”

Dean reached up to rub his chin, the scratch of his stubble barely heard over the thumping bass in the club below. “He’s paying off some officers on the force.”

Castiel’s brow crinkled. “What? Why?”

Dean shrugged. “No idea.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Okay so I have some idea but it’s just a gut feeling. And you only wanted facts.”

Castiel frowned. “Tell me.”

“He’s going to make a bid for mayor right?”

Castiel blinked. “Uh… yeah he’s been thinking about- how did you-?”

Dean waved a hand. “Guys like him only want power. And he’ll do anything to get it. He’s set all his pieces on the board. Stellar win record in court, charitable donations to all the right charities…” Dean eyed Castiel. “Wholesome, attractive man on his arm.” Castiel fought a blush, looking at his lap. “But he needs an edge.”

“What kind of edge.”

Dean tilted his head. “That I don’t know.”

They were silent for a moment.

“Are you going to continue to have someone in the club tail me?”

“Do you want me to have someone in the club tailing you?” Castiel hesitated. “I’ll keep Sam on you.”

# 

Castiel was driving home from the club when his car was sideswiped by a large panel van. Dazed and dizzy he could barely process that he was being dragged from the car. A man smelling of whiskey and day-old sweat pulled him up before punching him solidly in the jaw. Castiel’s ears rang as something solid ran into his assailant, knocking Castiel out of his grasp and Castiel fell back against the fender of his car, trying to focus.

The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed down the empty highway. Castiel heard a shout and someone scuffling before two meaty hands gripped the lapels of his trench coat and began to drag him towards the back of the van. Castiel began to struggle, eyes trying to focus and he saw Sam Winchester fighting against two men in black hoodies and face masks, his wide reach the only thing keeping him up in that fight. 

A twin engine sounded in the distance and Castiel felt his heart clench, struggling harder as two sets of hands tried to haul him up into the back of the van. He could barely see, the old two-lane road unlit except for the headlight of the bike as it drew nearer and the broken headlights of the van crunched into the side of his car. Castiel’s feet were leaving the ground as he was lifted bodily and he yelled out despite himself. 

“No! Let me go! Get off me! Help! Help!”

“Get off him you son of a bitch!” Dean’s voice rang out in the silent night, the motor on his bike dying as he skidded to a halt and let it drop to the ground as he vaulted off of it. He fired off a round into the air, everyone around him cringing down and looking his way. 

“Shit, Dean Winchester,” one of them muttered, dropping Castiel immediately and it was enough for Castiel to break free.

Without thinking he ran towards Dean, throwing his body at him and Dean accepted him with open arms, cocooning him in a tight embrace. Castiel clutched him close, fear pumping through his veins, heart galloping so hard in his chest he felt sick from it. He heard boots on gravel and one of Dean’s arms shot out, pointing the gun at the man who tried to approach.

“Stay out of this Winchester.”

The gun fired and Castiel gave a small cry, pressing his face hard into Dean’s shoulder trying to block out the distinct sound of a body hitting the pavement. 

“Anyone else got something to say?!” Dean shouted, his other arm still wrapped tight around Castiel. “You.” Dean gestured with the gun. “Tell Alaistair he comes near Castiel Novak again, he’ll be shitting his own teeth for a week.”

A high laugh bubbled from behind Castiel and he gripped Dean tighter at the icy sound. “We don’t work for Alaistair. Don’t you know, Winchester? There’s a new God in town and he’s playing for keeps.”

The gun went off again and someone howled in pain. “I’m not much for riddles,” Dean spit. 

“Dean…”

“Shut up, Cas.”

Castiel shut up, keeping his chin tucked over Dean’s shoulder.

“He calls himself Lucifer,” A trembling voice hissed. “He’s working with the prosecutor.”

Castiel’s breath hitched. He felt Dean swallow hard.

“How?” Dean’s voice was more a command than a question.

“To take over the Demons. Alaistair goes down and he’s the new leader. Anyone who stands against him dies.”

“What’s in it for Crowley?” Dean demanded.

“Mayor,” Sam chimed in, his voice astonished. “He puts Alasiatr away, the infighting stops and there’s peace on the streets again.”

“What does this have to do with Cas?” Dean redoubled his grip and Castiel tried to keep himself from trembling. Silence. Another gunshot, this time followed by rapid-fire speech.

“Jesus! Okay, okay! He wants him dead.”

“Lucifer? Why?” Dean asked.

“No, Dean,” Sam replied and Castiel knew before Sam even said it. “Crowley.”

“What?” Dean’s voice was astonished, his gun lowering a bit and Castiel merely closed his eyes, turning his face into Dean’s neck.

“You said it yourself. He needs an edge,” Sam’s voice was almost giddy with understanding. “What’s better than a dead husband?”

Dean’s entire body stiffened. “They aren’t married.”

Castiel curled in more, his throat feeling as if it might burst. “Not yet. I found the ring. He was going to ask soon.”

Dean growled softly. “Alright, you and you, listen up. Anyone comes near Castiel Novak and they’ll deal with the Cemetery Boys. You want a war you fucking got one. Now get your friend out of here before he bleeds out on the side of the road. Sammy, call a tow and wait with the car. Cas,” Dean’s voice softened as he turned his head, nose brushing in Castiel’s hair. “You’re with me.”

Castiel didn’t object.

#

Castiel wasn’t fully cognizant of anything that was happening to him until he found himself being helped into a pair of Dean’s sweat pants in the room above the clubhouse. Dean had practically carried him up the stairs, sat him on a chair, and chattered at him about anything and everything while he went about putting clean sheets on the bed. 

Castiel shivered as Dean guided his arms through an old club t-shirt, one that Castiel used to sleep in when he and Dean had been together. Why had he ever left Dean? He’d been so mad for so long he couldn’t even remember why anymore. And given the night’s events, he was sure it was small and insignificant in comparison to everything he’d done for Castiel tonight.

“Dean.” Castiel reached for his hip and Dean placed his hands on Castiel’s biceps, steadying him.

“You need to get some sleep. You’re dead on your feet.”

Castiel acquiesced though reluctantly as Dean guided him over to the bed. The mattress was lumpy but the linens smelled like fresh laundry and Castiel curled up as Dean tucked him in. Castiel caught his wrist when Dean made to move away.

“Stay. Please.”

Dean swallowed hard. “Cas, I-“

“I just want you to hold me.” Castiel knew he’d likely feel shame later but right now all he wanted was comfort. “Please.”

Dean was perilous to stop himself, toeing out of his boots and letting his jeans fall to the floor. He shrugged out of his kutte, hanging it on the arm of the chair before tossing his flannel aside and slid between cool sheets next to Castiel. Dean chuckled as he was immediately enveloped, Castiel latching onto him like an octopus, and god, how he’d missed this.

“Thank you,” Castiel murmured into his chest and Dean shivered at his warm breath on the bare skin of his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t listen. Dean. I’m sorry.” He was starting to hyperventilate and Dean held him tighter.

“Shhh, calm down, Cas. It’s okay. You were just… It doesn’t matter. I forgive you okay. Don’t freak out, just breathe.”

“How could I be so stupid?” Castiel panted, his eyes squeezing shut. “How could I not see it?”

“Well Crowley is a slimy, lying son of a bitch and you’re… well… you trust people too easy, Cas.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, you do. It’s something I love about you but only when I’m around to look out for you.”

“I never should have left.” Silence stretched. “Dean?”

“I’m not gonna argue with you.”

Castiel couldn’t help it, he huffed a laugh. “You’re an asshole.” They were silent for a moment. “What do we do now?”

“Well, I got some lube in the drawer over th- OW!” Dean winced as Castiel pinched his nipple hard. “Easy on the goods.”

“I meant about Crowley.”

“Oh, you should definitely break up with him,” Dean nuzzled his nose into Castiel’s hair and received another, less severe, nipple tweak. 

“We can’t go to the police.”

“Nope.”

“So what do we do.”

“We’ve got church tomorrow. I’ll bring it up.”

Castiel sat up, gazing down at Dean. “You’re gonna get the club involved?”

“Honey, we’re already involved. You fuck with one of us you fuck with all of us. They hurt you. They’re lucky I only blew out their knee caps and not their skulls.”

Castiel’s eyes snapped shut. “Jesus, Dean please don’t kill anyone.”

“Aw, Cas you’re no fun.”

“This isn’t funny!”

Dean’s face turned sober. “I know. I’m sorry, I know it isn’t. Look, we can’t do anything tonight, but I promise you, you’re safe here. YOu’re safe with me.” Dean rested his forehead against Castiel’s. 

“And we’ll just… figure out the rest?” Castiel gazed up at Dean, taking in the dusting of freckles across his nose. A small smile pulled at Dean’s lips.

“Yeah. We’ll make it up as we go.”

[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ OH, SHE ISN'T PLAYING ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY @ocetevasgirl: Hola preciosa! Can I request prompt 8 from the fluff list with Voight? Love you 💖

❚❙ PROMPTS: “You're jealous, aren't you?” “You're calling that jealousy? If she/he can still use her/his legs, I'm not being jealous”.

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 2k.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @sophie-writes. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.

Since you saw this morning Olivia Benson walking downstairs accompanied by Voight, your good mood got burned into ashes just in a sight. He hadn't told you that she was going to come and, actually, he hadn't why to tell you. For him, it's only part of his job. But you know it's something else for her. You have seen her how she looks at your man. The unjustified and unnecessary touches on his back, on his arm. The stupid smiles she draws to him, that you would be delighted of erasing using your fist.

You have never, ever, been the kind of jealous girl. You trust your boyfriend blindly, but you don't trust her. You can't. You have tried it with all your efforts, but then you heard her laughing for no reason and Hank responding with a fleeting smile. You haven't talked him about how you feel, because the age gap between both makes you look stupid sometimes. Fortunately, you're professional enough to not let these things affect your job and your relationship. You have learnt how to hide your emotions, even if sometimes your friends suspect that something is going on by the tic that makes you blink your left eye unconsciously.

Aware that he must be there with his amazing friend, Kim places a hand on your shoulder trying to encourage you to cross the entrance and come into the Molly's. Licking your lips as you calm yourself a little, you nod pushing the door to be embraced by the warm atmosphere inside it, covering you from the cold breeze of Chicago. Letting your eyes travel around the place, you greet some of your friends waving a hand, before landing your gaze on your boyfriend. He turns at that exact moment, not even trying to contain a smile. You show him another back, but his disappears when he sees you passing him away straight to the Unit's table without greeting him. And Olivia notices it, but you don't care.

“What's up, trouble?” Jay pulls down your hair, earning a laugh from you.

“Platt said you crashed a patrol”. Wrinkling your nose in a funny gesture, after Adam's words, you take a seat next to him.

“These aren't the things you have to learn from us, you know it, right?” Antonio makes you all chuckle, calling to his sister raising a finger to ask for more beers.

“I caught the bad guy, didn't I?”

“Yeah, crashing a car”. Atwater raises his eyebrows, leaning over the table.

“But I caught the bad guy, that's my job not to take care of the cars. I'm not a mechanic…”

“BUT A COP!” You all say in unison, as always, like a famous quote.

As soon as the beers arrive, you make another toast for your car lost in action. And everything is fun until you feel a presence behind you and the silence gets installed around your table. Gulping and licking your bottom lip, as your friends drink from their bottles trying to pretend that you all weren't doing what you were doing, you turn around over your stool forcing a smile.

“Having fun, officer (Y/L/N)?” Platt's voice gives you the kind of shivers you can hide.

“No, no, n— I mean… yes”. The look on her face causes you to swallow again. “I me—mean, no?”

“It's a simple question. Yes or no”.

“Trudy, leave the kid alone”.

Saved by the bell. Your hero.

“Crash a car is part of our tradition, ain't it?” Hank tries to put some humor in the situation, traveling his eyes from her to you.

“Hm”. The woman just replies, before walking away.

You don't know about what kind of tradition he is talking of, but at least he has saved your ass. Again. Not being able to look at him, you sip from your beer trembling yet. Probably, tomorrow Crowley will ask for a convincing explanation. I caught the bad guy will not work with her, that's for sure. Feeling a soft touch in your lower back, you raise your orbs from the bottle to your boss, who makes a brief move with his chin to point at the back door at the end of the bar. You don't want to go, you know exactly what it's going to happen and you just want to forget the intense day you have had. But he raises his eyebrows with that cockiness usual on him, about to drag you if you don't put down from your stool.

With an imperceptible sight, you end up obeying in silence under the attentive eyes of your friends. Hank walks behind you with both hands in the pocket of his jeans, as you wear your jacket to zip it above your chest. The fresh air hits your face once you reach the Molly's back alley, resting your back against the wall with your face bowed to your military black boots. Placing himself in front of you, he studies thoroughly your gesture, your lips pressed and the lack of eye contact.

“What's the matter?”

Shaking your head slightly, you cross one leg behind the other, putting your hands on your lower back.

“You're jealous, aren't you?”

Letting go an exaggerated chuckle, you roll your eyes before gluing them on him. “You're calling that jealousy? If she can still use her legs, I'm not being jealous”.

“It ain't a good moment to be sarcastic, sweetheart”.

“I'm not. She is just a colleague, right?”

Hank nods in silence tilting his head closer and you're sure he can hear your heart speeding up under your skin. He always does that, putting you nervous only to prove the power he has on you, on your body, on your senses. And you hate him. You hate how proud he feels because of it. The grin on his face causes a chill down your spine, standing up from the wall to pretend that he is wrong, that he doesn't control your reactions.

“Hm… Good to know you're conscious of her position. She's gonna stay in my house tonight. We didn't plan to need more than one day and she doesn't have a place”.

For a moment, the image of you punching his face runs your mind, keeping your hands inside the pockets of your jacket to close them in two fist until you feel your nails hurting your palms. There are a lot of replies to his words stuck in your throat, but if it's a proof of trust, you would fail miserably. This is a clash of titans and you're not going to let him win.

“That's fine”. You respond squinting at him, taking a step ahead almost facing Hank. “Anything else?”

“No”.

“Okay”.

With a feigned smile, you turn to the left to leave the alley and come back to your private party, which means to get drunk until Burgess and Hailey have to carry you home.

“What an interesting night is gonna be”. Hank whispers seeing you grabbing the doorknob, teasing you as only he knows how to do.

Kissing your lips as your steps stop dead, you turn your head about to lose your calm.

“If I see her putting a hand on your leg again, I'm gonna break every single fucking bone of her body”.

You couldn't help it. He knows exactly which words he has to use to push you to the edge. The worst part is the fun he usually has doing it. Walking towards you moving his head as if he was nodding, Hank caresses his bottom lip with a forefinger looking thoughtful.

“I didn't think of you as someone violent”.

“Fucking watch me, Voight”.

“Hm…”

Containing a laugh, he opens the door for you, pointing at the inside with a hand. Clearly challenging you. But before you can pass him away, the sergeant grabs your forearm to push you back and lean his lips over your ear.

“She booked the hotel yesterday”. His raspy voice touring your head makes you feel your cheeks burning in shame.

He has won already and you know it. Wanting to leave him again, he pulls you back again hearing the heavy snort escaping your mouth.

“She knows who you are. Told her this morning”.

Did really he? Arching up one of your eyebrows, you can't help but turn your face slightly at him. Your parted lips reveal the surprise and the confusion. Why can she know it, but not your friends? Just because she doesn't work in Chicago? It isn't fair. At least, under your opinion. It's not like you're going to act like Voight's girlfriend and take the advantage of what it means. But it allows you to smile at him when you cross your eyes in the hallways, it allows you to don't have to hide if you want to have lunch together, it allows you to not have to drive two different cars and leave his house before him to work. Small simple things that for you means a lot.

“Cut off the show, boss. Everybody is looking at us”.

It isn't the first time that Hank can't avoid touching you somehow in public, finding the stupidest excuse just to feel you. And he really enjoys putting you nervous, watching the way you lick your lips and bite the bottom one, feel the way your body gets tense when he lays his hands on you, the short frights he gives you coming behind you and whispering ‘officer (Y/L/N)’ in your ear.

Actually, there's no reason why you decided to hide your relationship. You haven't even talked about it. You haven't thought if it's because of the age gap, because of his past, because he is your boss (...). You haven't given it any importance, till you met Olivia Benson a couple months ago. That kind of sergeant who comes from New York and thinks that she runs the Chicago police department. Hank hasn't told you how they met, imagining they did when he was working on the Gang Unit.

“Admit your jealousy”. Tilting his head enough to look into your eyes, the challenging grimace comes back to his face.

Knowing that he's not going to stop, you simply nod. “It isn't fair that other women can… touch you, and I have to wait more than twelve hours just… simply to smile at you without looking suspicious”.

Hank can hear to perfection the hopelessness in your voice, feeling your fingers loosening his grip around your other forearm. It's not a question of possessiveness, but of insecurity; and he's discovering it now, thinking about since when you feel like that.

“Do you wan'me to take you home?”

You shake your head, now with guilt running under your skin because you know it has ruined his night.

“I'm okay, boss. Gonna have some fun with my friends after a long day”.

“Will you have some fun with your boss after that? End the night in my house playing pool, drinking whisky? I will let you win”.

You can't help but show him a fleeting smile, almost curving your lips. That's a yes for him and Hank feels satisfied. Holding your right hand on his, your boyfriend brings it to his mouth placing a tender kiss on the back of it, before letting you go.

Hailey and Burgess are squinting at you, knowing that their suspicions weren't wrong at all. Not saying a word and pretending normality, you sit back on your stool to have a sip from your beer. You're literally sweating right now, and it isn't because of the jacket you are wearing but because of the petty smiles appearing on the other cops.

“You know that we work in Intelligence, right, little trouble?” Antonio is the first one talking jokingly.

“Yeah, and we don't need to be detectives to know what's going on”. Hailey hums resting his arms over the table.

“How is Voight in private? I've always had curiosity. He takes off the stick of his ass when he comes home, or…?”

“Halstead, I can hear you”.

“Yeah, that was the intention, Sarge”. He replies, lifting up his beer in a silent toast.

Turning at Hank just for a second, you can't help but shrug with your eyebrows briefly frowned in a funny grimace that makes him giggle. It was inevitable, since they have seen the way and how close he has talked to you. But now, the pressure within your chest is dropping down, feeling better.

[impala-dreamer]

Hunger

SPN FanFic

~The Mark of Cain is starving for attention and Dean feeds it what, and when he can.~

Demon!Dean x Reader

3,250 Words

Warnings: NSFW! Demon!Dean. Smut. Rough, rough sex. Stripping. Filming of Sex. Masturbation. Deep Throat Fucking. Breath Control/Play. Rough Intercourse. Dean's a dick.

A/N: This is for my "Filming Sex" square on @spnkinkbingo​ 2020. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think ;)

2020 KinkBingo Masterlist ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

Dean walked out of the bar, leaving Crowley and his idiot minions behind. Last thing he needed was to be told what to do. He was too powerful and gave too few fucks now for that to be a thing. No one was gonna tell him what to do. Not ever again.

The brand on his arm ached constantly since he had been reborn, but he’d learned to ignore it, only letting the urge spike when he was in the mood or around a particularly annoying asshole that deserved to die. It wasn’t as if he just walked around dropping bodies, he still had some class. But, if he happened upon a douche that was asking for it...

That was how it went. Blood and more blood. Knuckle bruises fading, open wounds closing themselves. He was unstoppable. Fucking. Unstoppable.

But he was hungry.

Not the kind of hunger that could be soothed with a stop at a diner and topped off at a strip club. Dean was hungry for something familiar, something delicious and submissive, and wet.

The craving started when he realized where he was. Roads all looked the same and since he had no destination in mind, he just drove, ending up where he ended up. The white lines on the asphalt had been his friend and lead him right to her door.

Y/N would remember him, had to. He sure as fuck remembered her.

He remembered where her spare key was, too. Dean was careful to step around the devil’s trap that was painted underneath the weathered doormat on the porch as he reached for the key hanging behind the old window’s shutter. She might have grown up in The Life, might know how to keep ghosts out of her house, the common demon, but leaving a key right by her front door?

Dean shook his head and unlocked the door. “Imma have to talk to her about that.”  

All it took was a quick hop over the mat and he was in.

The house was small like he remembered and just as cluttered. Still smelled like cloves, too. Well, that wasn’t gonna protect her from what he had in mind.

Somewhere down the hall a clock was ticking, a gentle click every second giving the place a rhythmic measure to fall asleep to. Dean’s footsteps fell on every other click; thick tread of his boots and heavy feet dropping onto the hardwood with an ominous thud.

Y/N was sleeping, lying on her back, empty face awash in the faint red light from her alarm clock. The thin sheet barely covered her, flowing like silk over each curve, tucked tight beneath her left knee. She breathed slowly; firm breasts rising and falling every fifth tick of the clock.

Dean slipped inside her room, silent and bathed in shadow. He looked around as she slept, unaware of his approach, not sensing anything as the air began to warm with his presence. Dean smiled as she rolled in her sleep, corner of the sheet dropping away to reveal a set of pale blue flannel pajamas.

“Always so cozy, Y/N/N,” he murmured, not bothering to keep his voice down.

She stirred, eyes fluttering wildly as Dean stepped up to the foot of the bed.

“Wakey wakey.”

She stretched and rubbed at her eyes with a tired hand. “Who’s there?” Her voice was caked with sleep, throat scratchy from hours of non use.

“Here there, Sweetheart.” His smile was dangerous but true. He had missed her; missed her heavy breaths as he clawed at her flesh, the muted whimpers as she screamed into her pillow. His stomach growled and The Mark ached as she blinked into the shadows, trying to place his silhouette and raspy voice.

“Dean?” Still groggy, she sat up and turned on the lap by her bedside, setting the room aglow. She was startled but glad to see him, instantly flashing a confused smile. “What are you doing here? How’d you get in?”

Dean chewed on his bottom lip for a second and let it slide back out slowly. “Yeah, about that-” He flicked his left hand and dropped the spare key between her knees on the bed. “You really need to hide that better. Never know who could just waltz in here.”

Y/N scooped up the key and clutched it in her fist. “Kinda like… an ex boyfriend?”

A smug laugh filled the room. “Yeah. One of those.”

The key fell onto the nightstand with a faint clank.

“So, what brings you to my bedroom in the middle of the night, Dean? You know I still have a cell phone, a few actually. It’s considered polite to call, especially after not calling for almost three years.”

Dean scratched at his jaw. “Yeah, about that-”

A click of her tongue interrupted him; her annoyance clear. “I heard you were dead. Sam dropped off the map, then suddenly everyone was back in action. Imagine my surprise when I didn’t get a phone call.”

“Well, Sam, hit a dog…”

Y/N rolled her eyes and threw back the blanket, tossing her feet over the side of the bed. “Ya know what? I don’t care.” Her bare feet sank gently into the carpet. “It was nice to see you, but… Get the fuck out of my house.”

Dean dipped his chin and looked up at her with big green eyes. “I just wanted to see you, Y/N/N, didn’t mean to piss you off.”

She softened but held her ground. “You just wanted to see me in the middle of the night in my bedroom? Come on, Dean.”

He moved closer, rounding the bed, big steps leading him to her side in a fraction of a second. “Well, I thought it would be rude to say I came to get some.”

She laughed and bit her lip as she looked away. “There’s the jerk I remember.”

Dean lifted his fingers to her cheek and surprisingly, she didn’t flinch away. “So…” He smirked and nodded towards the bed. “Shall we?”

Y/N took a step back and raised an eyebrow. “Are you kidding me? You break into my house-”

“I used the key.”

“-sneak into my bedroom-”

“I wasn’t that quiet. You’re a heavy sleeper.”

“-and now you’re like “hey baby, let’s do it”, and I’m supposed to what, rip my clothes off and suck your dick?”

Dean frowned as he thought up the scenario in his head, nodding when he decided it was good. “Yeah?”

The urge to slap him in his smug face was stopped only by the big thumb that traced her jaw. Y/N shivered, her eyes closing as memory washed over her. He was a good fuck, a good man, the best- but still.

“Get out,” she grit. “Now.”

The hand on her cheek dropped and Dean smacked his lips, looking slightly dejected. “You sure?”

She held her breath as he leaned closer, just tipping his chest towards her. She could smell his heat; the old familiar scent of the Impala and coffee lingering on his clothes. It was almost thick around him, that faint hint of aftershave, the cheap motel soap, the musk of him. Y/N’s head swam with thoughts of kissing him, of reaching up and pressing herself against him; breasts smashed against that hard, flanneled chest, tongues stroking with electric waves against each other. She closed her eyes and suddenly it wasn’t a dream anymore.

Dean closed the gap and gently placed his lips against hers, pushing just enough to catch her breath but staying back should she want to fight him off. Her right mind said to bring her knee up hard between his bowed legs, but her sleepy, dreamy, hazy brain said to open her mouth to him.

“That’s it,” he hummed as she wrapped a soft hand around the back of his neck. “You still taste so sweet.”

“And your breath still stinks,” she laughed, digging her nails into the base of his skull. He hissed and she licked at his mouth.

“Not that you care.” He pushed back then, swirling his tongue between her lips and stepping forward, forcing her back onto the bed. They sank together, Y/N’s legs opening automatically to make room for him. He rocked upwards, cock already half hard and pressing against his jeans. She moaned as the rough zipper rubbed through her pajamas, grinding up on her cunt.

“Fuck.” She breathed into his hair, face raising to the ceiling as his lips trailed down her throat; pearly teeth scraping over her pulse and nipping at her shoulder.

His voice was dry and cracked in her ear. “That was my plan.”

A giant hand closed over her left breast and Y/N’s entire body arched upwards, wanting to pull him deep inside, feel all of him. She moaned and called his name like a prayer. “Dean. Please.”

He was gone before she knew what happened, the mattress bouncing as his weight vanished.

“What the fuck?” She sat up, rubbing her eyes once more, this time clearing away the dampness of arousal. “Where are you going?”

Dean opened the buckle of his belt as he walked around the perimeter of the bed. “Just wanted a new angle.” He turned with a smirk and popped the brass button of his jeans.

Y/N smiled in a daze as she watched him move around, slowly finding the foot of the bed again. “How about you take those off and let me say hello?” She rolled onto her hands and knees and locked her eyes on his crotch; mouth watering at the idea.

“No.”

She looked upwards, a pout and confusion on her face. “W-why not?”

The tip of his tongue fit between his teeth and his smile was filled with devilish intent. He took his time answering, looking slowly around the room until he found something to play with: her old camcorder was tucked away on a shelf behind him.

Y/N watched curiously as he picked it up and blew the dust from its top. “What are you doing?”

He smiled as the power came on, and Dean trained the eye on Y/N. “Strip for me,” he said, voice deep as he hit record.

Her heart raced as the tiny red light came on, making her blush. “What? No.”

Green eyes lifted from the screen to her face. “Strip.”

The command was absolute and struck some chord deep inside; arousal pulsing in her cunt. “Yeah,” she said softly, “yeah, OK.”

Up on her knees in the middle of the bed, Y/N bit her lip as she opened the tiny buttons on her pajama top, careful not to reveal too much at once, wanting to give him a show.

Dean’s eyes flickered between the screen and real life; lips twitching with excitement as she got more into it, playing to the camera, exposing herself for him.

“Like this?” she asked, kicking the soft pants from her legs.

“Perfect.” He zoomed in, framing her body. “Lay back.”

Y/N swallowed deeply as she leaned back against the pillows. Sleep and his voice rang through her head, hitting every button inside, turning her on more than she thought possible. Without realizing it, Y/N had lifted a hand to her breast, slowly swirling her fingers across her stiffening nipples. Every pass made her shiver, but she remained frozen; eyes locked on Dean.

“That’s it,” he praised in a whisper, “such a good girl.”

Y/N hummed happily, her eyes closing a bit; sleepy and dazed. Her knees opened timidly as the heat grew; her left hand lazily drifting downwards.

“Yeah,” Dean urged. “Play with that pretty cunt for me. Show me how wet you can get.”

“Real wet,” she replied like a zombie, voice almost gone, breath heavy. “So wet, Dean.”

He grinned and zoomed in, capturing the slow press of her fingertips against her clit. Her skin glistened, damp and delicious. “Is that all for me?”

Y/N nodded helplessly and slid her middle finger deep inside, knuckles disappearing into her tight flesh. “Yeah. For you.”

Dean stared hard, cocking his head as she fucked herself for the camera, for him. He let the image burn into his brain so that every blink left him with a reminder of her perfect cunt.

When she began to moan, fingers working faster, legs shaking with effort, Dean called to her, stepping back from the bed.

“Enough. Come here.”

Y/N sat up almost automatically, hands dropping to the mattress as she rolled over and crawled to him, her chin up towards the camera, her eyes rolling, pussy juices dripping down her legs.

Dean unzipped his jeans and let them fall, stopped only by the tops of his boots.

“Flip over,” he ordered, yanking his boxers down. “Head over the side.”

Y/N held her breath as she got into position, back flat on the bed, neck stretching parallel to the floor as her head hung down over the edge.

Dean fisted his cock and pumped a few times, watching the pulse in her exposed throat beat faster. “Perfect. Open up.”

He aimed the camera downwards, immortalizing the moment he slid inside her waiting lips. She moaned happily as he pushed deep inside, watching as his cock passed down her throat, pushing at her delicate skin from the inside out. She choked as her neck bulged, and Dean thrust harder.

“Fuck, so deep.” His hips snapped against her forehead, shaking her entire body as he fucked her mouth without care.

She lost her breath as he went deeper; spit rolling down her cheeks, thicker with every push of his thick cock. When her lungs began to protest, she tried to scream, to warn him, but all that came out was a meek whine. She clawed at the sheets, then his hips, digging her nails into the dips of his waist, begging for a break.

The camera shook as Dean bent over, hooking one foot on the bed and dipping down deep. The new angle allowed her a single breath, but no true relief as her lips began to swell and her throat went numb around him.

“So good, Sweetheart,” he growled, pulsing the tip of his dick between her puffy lips. “My own little pornstar. Taking my cock like a pro.”

A final cry pushed up from the back of her throat and Dean showed an ounce of mercy, pulling free of her tight mouth with a wet pop. He zoomed close on the red mess that was her lips; cheeks stained by lines of spit, jaw sore and hanging.

“So beautiful.” He stood up and let the lens trail down her naked body. “Think I’ll wreck that pussy next. Scoot up, spread your legs.”

Invisible strings moved her body; Y/N couldn’t consciously decide to move a muscle, but she went, setting her ass in the middle of the bed, giving her neck a rest against the soft comforter.

Dean placed the camera back on the shelf, careful to aim it perfectly at the bed. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

Y/N lay there, waiting, drifting, empty. She felt the bed dip as Dean crawled over her, felt the heat from his now bare chest as it pressed down onto her. His lips were hot on her ear. His breath heavy, voice rough.

“Smile pretty for the camera, girl.”

She held in a scream as Dean pushed away, up on his knees as he thrust into her, thick cock stretching her open. She tensed at the pain and he smiled, green eyes blinking to black.

“Dean!” Fright and confusion ran through her veins and she pushed at his arms, trying to get away. “What the fuck!”

The oil slick remained as Dean fucked her harder, one giant hand pinning her wrists together above her head, the other closing over her mouth. “Shhh.” He smirked. “Thought you knew, Sweetheart. Haven’t been keeping up with the gossip much, I see.”

Y/N bit down hard on his palm and he flinched, pulling away. “Exorcizamus te!”

Dean laughed and wrapped his long fingers around her throat, cutting off her words. “That ain’t gonna work,” he sneered, leaning close so his breath flowed over her lips. “I’m not possessed. Just better.”

She gasped, eyes wide and unfocused. “Dean!”

His grip loosened but his thrusts did not ease, ramming into her without pause or finesse. He set his eyes on the lens as they flipped back to pure green; playing for the camera, upper lip pulled back into a sneer as her body tightened around him.

“Oh, gonna cum for me?” His laugh was dark, his fingers bruising her skin wherever they fell. “Can’t help it, can you?”

Y/N shook her head in protest, but couldn’t resist, hips rising to meet every push, bliss growing like a firecracker in her gut. “Please...harder.”

Dean laughed and let her hands go as he readjusted, holding himself up above her. “That’s my girl.”  

“Fuck!” The fire would not hold and Y/N came with a scream, entire body shaking as the pleasure ran upwards, blanking out any care of the danger that fucked her senseless.

Dean grunted as she clenched down on him. “Oh, just like that. Fuck.”

He moved impossibly faster, slamming into her so hard each pop took her breath away. He tore into her, not relenting until he pulled another orgasm from her. Her eyes rolled and her legs fell weak against his thighs.

With a growl, Dean pulled out and fisted his cock, watching her heaving chest as he pumped himself. “Don’t move.”

She moaned, head lolling to the side as he came, spraying hot and creamy white against her belly and tits.

When he was done, Dean leaned down and scooped up his mess with two fingers, bringing it to her lips. “Clean yourself up.” He shoved his hand into her mouth and she licked, mindlessly sucking him clean, swallowing him down. “That’s fucking hot as fuck, Y/N. Makes me wanna go again.”

She moaned pitifully, spent and trapped beneath him.

“But...nah.”

Suddenly, he was gone and the cold air washed across her body. “W-where are you going?” She tried to turn, but her body ached; every bit of her exhausted and limp.

“Why the fuck should I tell you?” he asked, half amused by her question.

“I- Dean...what happened to you?”

He laughed to himself as he zipped up and tossed the flannel over his shoulders. “Long story,” he said absently, “and I don’t feel like stickin’ around for the pillow talk.”

“Dean-”

He ignored her, reaching into the camcorder to take out the tape. “Here,” he said, tossing the mini film onto her stomach. “Something to remember me by.”

She rolled over just in time to see him open the door, slipping back into the dark hallway just as quietly as he came. “Dean!”

The roads were all the same; white lines and black top, bit of debris kicking the tires. Dean drove fast and reckless beneath the bright moon, not a care in his head, no destination in mind.

His stomach growled and he searched the exit sign for a rest stop.

The Mark burned but he ignored it. He’d find some shithead to sink his blade into before the sun came up, of that he was sure. But for now- a burger would do.

2020 Forever Tags:

@67-chevy-baby​ @akshi8278 @akhuna01​ @amanda-teaches​ @because-imma-lady-assface​ @blondemarvelchick​ @blushingjared​ @broiderie​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​ @classic-rock-angel​ @coopercharlie16​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @covered-byroses​ @crashdevlin​ @deansgirl215​ @deans-baby-momma​ @deangirl7695​ @deanwanddamons​  @deanwinchesterswitch​ @defenderrosetyler​ @desiree---1986  @dolphincliffs​ @dontshootmespence​ @edge-oftonight​ @emoryhemsworth​ @eternal-elir @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @flamencodiva​ @focusonspn​ @herbologystudent252​ @heycasbutt​ @hornyandsmol​ @ilovefanfic86​ @i-love-superhero​ @ilsawasanacrobat​ @imjustadrummer​ @ivvitm1109​ @joseyrw​ @justagirlinafandomworld​ @justcallmeasmodeus​ @katymacsupernatural​ @laxe-from-outer-space​ @leatherandfrackles​ @lessons-of-red​​ @letsby​ @letsdisneythings​ @lonewolf471​ @maddiepants​ @mariekoukie6661​ @meganwinchester1999​ @missjenniferb​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @mummybear​  @onethirstyunicorn​ @our-jensen-ackles-love​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ @starboycas​ @stephaniecanfield96us​​ @stoneyggirl​ @squirrelnotsam​ @thebookisbtr​ @thehardcoveraddict​ @thevelvetseries​ @veevm​​ @winchestersister55​​ @wendibird​ @winecatsandpizza​ @winterpoohbear​

[arcticfox007]

Holding on to You

Day 2: Decorating

There is a follow up to this one on Day 3 of the DD2020C!

Part of the Destiel December 2020 Challenge created by @jellydeans and @galaxycastiel - this is so much fun, I really appreciate you guys coming up with this :) <3

This is a bit long for tumblr, so here’s the AO3 link!

***

           Please come when you can.

               Castiel looked at the text from Sam with some concern. If it had been urgent, he was sure Sam would’ve expressed it… but still, Lucifer’s trail had gone cold, and a break from Crowley’s need to always fill the silence with words would be welcome. Still looking at the text Castiel stood up from the barstool.

               “Where are you running off to Feathers? Running home to your boyfriend for the holidays?” Crowley winked suggestively at the angel.

               “If you must know, Sam has requested my assistance.” Castiel hadn’t actually paid much attention to the time of year, but now that he looked around, he did note that the bar had a plastic tree in the corner with lights.” Crowley noticed Castiel taking in the tree with a furrowed brow.

               “Oh dear, you didn’t forget? And with only ten shopping days left!” Crowley smiled mockingly. Cas just glared at Crowley and slammed money on the bar for the beer he hadn’t touched.

               “Just call me if you hear anything new about Lucifer.” Castiel continued to glower at the demon.

               “Ooo, I touched a nerve there. Go run back home to your boys, Feathers.” Crowley chuckled and turned back to his drink. Castiel walked out of the bar and got in his current vehicle. He was only a few hours from the bunker but as he started to drive, he found that he was actually bothered by what Crowley had said. He had observed that humans in this part of the world had specific cultural practices associated with Christmas that were very important to them. He had not known the Winchesters to pay much attention to the holiday, but should he do something for them? Sighing, Castiel decided he’d get to the bunker first and worry about human cultural practices later.

****

               Sam was worrying more and more about Dean. He knew his brother said he understood why Mom needed her space, but Dean was withdrawing more and more. When they weren’t on a hunt Dean found all sorts of projects around the bunker that required manual labor. The last few days his brother had only communicated with one-word responses and only when Sam asked him a direct question. Sam had been relieved when Cas texted him that he was on the way to them, Dean was always better with Cas around.

               “Dean?” Sam could hear some boxes being moved around in one of the rooms they’d been using for storage. He looked through the doorway to see his brother opening up an old box.

               “What?” Sam winced at the harsh tone.

               “Hey, I didn’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to tell you Cas texted to say he was on his way here. I thought you’d want to know.” Dean just nodded at the news. Sam looked around and noticed that Dean was going through some of the stuff prior occupants of the bunker had left behind. Sam waved his hand towards the boxes. “Anything interesting?” Dean sighed deeply.

               “No.” Sam peeked into the box Dean had just opened as it was pushed aside into what he imagined was Dean’s junk pile. It was full of smaller boxes. Sam pulled one out and laughed. They were tree ornaments, and really ugly ones at that. Dean just continued to pull more boxes out, but looking at the hideous ornaments Sam realized with a start that it was almost Christmas. Maybe Sam had more than one idea of how to cheer his brother up.

***

               “Sam.” Castiel wondered why Sam had called when he was going to be at the bunker in the next half an hour.

               “Hey Cas. I know you’re probably almost here, but I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?”

               “Of course, Sam. What can I do for you?”

               “Can you stop somewhere and pick up a few supplies? I’ll text you the address of the closest store. You still have the credit card we gave you right?” Castiel could here Sam’s smile through the phone.          

               “Yes, what supplies do you require?”

               “Okay, so this may sound strange, but I need you to pick up a tree. And a tree stand. And lights. Oh, and when you get here text me so I can help you sneak them in.” Sam had lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Castiel was confused.

               “Is this for some ill-advised spell? These sound like odd ingredients.” Sam laughed.

               “No Cas! Dean found some old decorations in one of the storage boxes and it made me think that it might be nice to decorate a Christmas tree this year.”

               “Then why are we sneaking?”

               “Um, well, I asked you to come back because… because Mom left. Dean hasn’t been handling it well, and I thought you and I could maybe do something to remind him that he still had us.” Cas took a deep breath and didn’t speak for a moment. It was hard to think of Dean dealing with his mother’s absence again. “Cas?”

               “I’m here Sam. I’m happy to bring a tree to assist with your holiday rituals. Please send me the address.” Cas ended the call. He was absurdly happy at the idea of being included in decorating a tree with the Winchesters. He was worried about Dean of course, but he wasn’t surprised to hear that Mary left. She had expressed that she felt out of place. If Sam thought having a Christmas tree would help, then Cas would get a tree. He glanced at the address on his screen and drove to the store.

***

               Sam made sure that Dean was still occupied in the storage room when Cas arrived. He helped Cas carry in the tree and showed the angel how to hold it so Sam could secure it in the stand. He sent Cas to bring the lights inside while he filled the stand up with water. Cas had purchased multi-colored lights and also had a bag with tinsel which he said the sales clerk had recommended.

               “Okay Cas. Now I need you to go convince Dean to help decorate.” Cas looked at Sam suspiciously. “Please Cas? He’s more likely to listen to you. You can also get the old ornaments.” The angel rolled his eyes and went towards the storage area.

****

               “Hello Dean.” Castiel stood in the doorway and watched Dean pull a box out from a back shelf and drag it to the front of the room where there was more space. He didn’t look up.

               “Cas.” Castiel sighed. It was never easy with Dean. He walked up to the man he loved and placed a hand on his shoulder. Castiel expected Dean to shrug it off but Dean just stilled and stood up to look at the angel.

               “I am sorry that your mother left.” Dean took a deep breath and for a moment Castiel thought Dean was going to start shouting at him. Cas would let him shout if that’s what he needed. Before he could start though, Cas saw Dean look at his face and wince. Perhaps Dean could read Castiel’s compassion in his eyes. Holding Dean’s gaze Cas saw the deep pain that reverberated through Dean’s being. Cas didn’t even stop to think. He pulled Dean into his arms and hugged him fiercely. Dean’s mother left, so Cas would stay as long as Dean needed him. He tried to pour that reassurance into the embrace. Surprisingly Dean didn’t resist, he just melted into the hug.

               “Cas… she said she missed her kids. We were standing right there, but she doesn’t even recognize us. She could have stayed, gotten to know us. But she’d rather have a memory.” Dean whispered the words in a raw and halting voice. Castiel knew how hard it was for Dean to express these things and so he pulled his arms tighter around him, feeling the soft flannel of Dean’s shirt underneath his palms. Dean dropped his head into Cas’ neck as if he could hide there from the world.

               “I believe she just needs time Dean; she does love you and Sam.” Dean nodded miserably into Cas’ trench coat. Cas would hold him as long as Dean allowed it. He stood silently offering this beautiful man all the support he felt he was allowed to give. Eventually, Dean pulled back and rubbed his hands over his face. He looked hopelessly around the mess of open boxes surrounding them and then back at Cas.

               “Thanks.” Dean didn’t seem embarrassed or awkward for once, just grateful. Cas just nodded and briefly grasped Dean’s shoulder once more. The angel was happy to have offered Dean some small amount of solace. He always treasured the stolen moments where he could be there for Dean, when it felt like Dean when just letting Castiel love and adore him. Softly smiling, Cas also looked at the boxes for a moment. Softly smiling, Cas also looked at the boxes for a moment.

               “Did you have something in mind with these?”, Cas asked looking at the debris of the prior bunker residents.

               “Nah. I was trying to get rid of any junk lying around. It was just something to do since while we don't have a case.”

               “Sam asked me to get a box of ornaments?” Castiel looked at the piles not sure where to start. Dean looked questioningly at the angel and dug out one of the bottom boxes and passed it to Cas.

               “What does he want with these?” Castiel shrugged slightly. Being a very experienced tactician, he knew the best strategy for convincing Dean to help decorate. More than anything else Dean was motivated by helping others.

               “I would like to experience Christmas with people I care for. Sam is teaching me some of your local holiday customs. Will you come help?” Castiel may have resorted to the head tilt Dean always responded to. He was not above ‘fighting dirty’ when it came to Dean’s happiness. Dean gave Cas a genuine smile and pushed him towards the door.

               “Yeah! Sounds like a plan. Although those ornaments are really ugly.” Cas chuckled as they made their way out of the storage area.

[vampire-named-gampire]

Carry On Countdown - Day 14

Here’s my fic for Day 14 of the @carryon-countdown Might fuck around and post it on AO3 too, we’ll see how the night goes

Prompt: Constellations Words: 1575 Rating: T but almost bordering M Summary: 

Baz is definitely swooning. 

BAZ

I can’t remember the last time Simon kissed me like this. Maybe on that very first night… Maybe in America…

He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to his room as soon as I got to his flat and then he grabbed me by the collar, shoved me against the door and crashed his mouth on mine. I don’t know what prompted him to do this, but I’m not complaining. It’s one of my Watford fantasies come to life.

I can’t remember the last time he knotted his fingers in my hair and pulled me so close our lips were almost bruisingly pressed together. I forgot how much I like this.

He’s going to change his mind any minute now, I remind myself. He’s been doing better with touching and kissing, but I still know that what we’re doing right now is on the very edge of his comfort zone.

Enjoy it while you can.

I grab him by the belt loops and pull him closer. (That’s another one of my Watford fantasies.)

He’s so close and he’s so warm and he’s doing that thing with his chin again that he knows that I love and I feel a little weak at the knees. (I’m definitely swooning.) I press my hands against his lower back, just to keep myself steady.

That’s when he pulls away. Too soon, too soon.

His hands leave my hair and drop down and I instinctively pull my hands away, before he can even do it himself. I must’ve gone too far. I open my mouth to apologise, but nothing comes out as I watch Simon yank the hem of his shirt out of his trousers and pull it over his head. He tosses it aside nonchalantly and then his lips are on mine again.

My thoughts have reduced to actual buzzing, and for a moment, I’m too shocked to react. That makes Simon actually growl and bite down on my bottom lip and I take it back. This is swooning.

It’s also a convenient enough method to snap me back in. My hands return to his waist and the feeling of his skin underneath my fingertips is near maddening. (I’ve felt Simon’s skin before. I’ve seen him shirtless before. But Aleister Crowley, this is wonderful.)

“Simon, wait.” I force myself to pull back. (It might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.) Simon looks at me with a puzzled expression. “Are you sure this is okay?” I ask, trying to ignore the fact that I’m a little bit breathless. (Really, how can you not be when your boyfriend is shirtless and snogging you against his bedroom door?)

“Yes,” he says, pressing a kiss to my lips. “Yes, yes, yes.” He seals every word with a peck and my heart swells for this beautiful bastard. He also doesn’t have to tell me twice. (Really, he told me four times.)

I grab him by the waist again and push him backwards, while still kissing him, until we topple onto his bed. I can feel him smiling against my lips and it only makes me want to kiss him harder. I don’t. I pull back again.

“Any time you want to stop—”

“Baz, shut up.” He grabs me by the collar and pulls me to his lips again. I’m definitely going to die tonight. I always assumed Simon Snow was going to kill me, I just didn’t think his weapon of choice would be his lips.

I am very much not complaining.

I slide my hand (the one that’s not supporting me) up his side, relishing in the warmth of his skin and the small bumps where his moles are. I feel Simon shudder underneath me and the next moment, his fingers start unbuttoning my shirt. He’s being inpatient with it, nearly yanking them out.

“Don’t rip them,” I mutter against his lips and he growls in frustration. Really, I couldn’t give a rat’s arse about the buttons (I can always spell them back on), but teasing Simon is not something I get to do often and I’m sure as fuck not going to pass up the opportunity.

“Posh git,” he mutters while messing with my buttons. I leave him to it and start kissing his neck.

“Uncultured slob,” I mutter against his skin.

“Fuck off, Baz,” he growls like he always does when he has no comeback. I grin and lift myself up so that I’m hovering about ten inches above him.

“Fuck off? You want me to go away?” I ask, still grinning. Simon rolls his eyes.

“Yes, very much so,” he mumbles, but he’s grabbing me by the collar again and pulling me closer.

“Mixed signals, Snow,” I say just before he kisses me.

“Stop being a smartarse,” he growls as he flips us over. I can’t even think of a witty reply, because he straddles my hips and starts kissing behind my ear while simultaneously undoing my shirt buttons and it’s so good and entirely too distracting.

I feel my shirt fall open and not even seconds later, his mouth is splayed across my stomach and his lips are hovering just above mine. I reach up for them hungrily and he scoffs.

Something funny, Snow? I want to ask, but doing so would mean I’d have to tear my lips away from his and I don’t ever want to do that. I’m still very much aware that he might pull away any second (which is perfectly okay) and I want to enjoy this while it lasts.

I let my hands trace his back, brushing over the spot where his wings usually are (they’re spelled right now), feeling the constellation of moles on his back. I get the overwhelming urge to kiss them all. (I’ve kissed his moles before, but never on his back.)

I flip us over again and start kissing down his neck. I consider my choices here. I could either keep doing this (perfect, brilliant, absolutely amazing) or I could try something new and potentially risk making him uncomfortable. Simon still isn’t that good with me touching him and he prefers to be the one in control when it comes to kissing. (Which is more than fine by me.) But still, today, he’s different. He’s letting me be in control too. It might be worth a shot.

“Can we try something?” I whisper.

“Hm?”

I want to tell him to just turn around and trust me, but this is Simon. A vague instruction like this could possibly send his anxiety into overdrive. It’s better to be direct. “Can I kiss your back?” I ask in between pressing kisses to his neck.

Simon shuffles away a little. Fuck.

“Can you kiss me back?” he asks, his voice puzzled. Oh.

I start laughing, my head falling in the crook of his neck.

“Baz?”

“Kiss your back, you numpty, not kiss you back. What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time?”

“Yeah, that’s why I thought it was weird…”

“Can I?”

“Oh. Um…” he hesitates for a moment.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to,” I quickly say.

“No, I do, just… why would you want to do that? You get nothing out of it.”

“I wouldn’t call kissing my boyfriend and making him feel good nothing, would you? Turn around.”

Simon blushes a brilliant red, but does as I say. I settle beside him, running my hand between his shoulder blades.

“All good?” I ask. He nods. “If you want me to stop, just tell me so,” I tell him, before pressing a kiss to the first mole, the one that sits just above his left shoulder blade. His skin is soft and warm and I’m still close enough to his face that I see him close his eyes.

My next target is on the back of his neck. I’ve kissed this one before, the few times he let me be the big spoon, so it feels familiar.

Another one on his right shoulder blade. One right in the middle of his spine. Three moles underneath that one and a little bit to the left. Two moles even further left from the triangle, almost on his side. I feel him squirm when I kiss those two.

“Alright?” I ask, pulling away.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “Tickles.”

I kiss the two moles again, just to tease him a little, before moving on. I kiss the spots where his wings usually are, then move downwards, kissing the moles scattered underneath his shoulder blades. I can tell by his breathing that he enjoys it and I make mental notes of which ones he especially likes and keep returning to them before moving further down.

He shudders when I reach his lower back.

“Still alright?” I ask, my hand resting on his waist.

“Yes.”

So I keep kissing him until I reach the waistband of his jeans. Then I slowly make my way up again, tracing over the spots he likes one more time. (Or sometimes more times, if he especially likes it.) There are a lot more moles he likes on his lower back, which is knowledge I hope I can put into use again some time in the future.

Once I’m back up by his shoulder, I start kissing behind his ear.

“Still alright, darling?” I whisper. He turns around, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Yes. Perfect.”

And he reaches for my face again.

[thejolexgroupchat]

the one where they met in med school - part seven

Jo’s first day at Seattle Grace

Be sure to check out our Master List for parts 1-6

You guys really have no idea how much Nat, @iamtrebleclefstories​ and @doc-pickles​ love writing this story.

(July 2007)

"You ready?" Alex asked as he looked at Jo in the passenger seat and Lexie in the back. They were sitting in the hospital parking lot, Jo and Lexie taking in the fact that today was the first day of their intern year. "You don't want to be late on your first day. Trust me, you want to hear Webber's speech. And I don't want to be late to meet my interns."

"Do you guys already know who you have?" Lexie asked. She wasn't originally supposed to come to Seattle. She had a top tier surgical residency waiting for her at Mass Gen, but when her mom died about a month ago, she got rematched at Seattle Grace to be closer to her father. On top of that, Lexie had just found out that she had an older sister who was working in this very hospital.

"No, we find out when you do," Alex shared. "Are you sure you don't want me to talk to Meredith? She's a good person. A bit emotionally stunted, but she's a good friend."

"No, Alex it's fine," Lexie shook her head. "I think she should hear it from me."

"Okay. I'm going to go inside. I'll see you guys later. Maybe if you're lucky you'll be on my service," he leaned over to the passenger seat and gave Jo a peck on the lips before getting out of the car. "Don't forget to lock the door."

About an hour later, Jo and Lexie were in the locker room, waiting for Webber to share which resident they would be working under. He went through the list of residents and called out interns.

“Alright everyone listen up. I am going to assign you to a resident. When I call your name, you will go find your resident in the hallway and await instructions. Trimble, Franklin, Morales, and Bozniack you’re with Stevens. Harrison, Allen, O’Malley, Johnson, and Phillips with Grey. Lawrence, Crowley, Vega, Brown, and Grey you’re with Yang. Last but not least, Hernandez, Jenkins, Davis, and Wilson, you’re with Karev.”

Jo and Lexie exchanged a glance. Jo knew that being on Alex’s service was always a possibility, however, she never thought it would actually happen. That would make things much more difficult than she’d anticipated. Prior to starting, Jo and Alex had agreed to keep their relationship private. Aside from Lexie, no one would know that the two of them were together, so that if Jo got to scrub in on a surgery or was handed a case, it was because she was good and not because she was dating a resident. But what was once a possibility, quickly became a reality, and they were going to have to learn how to deal with this situation if they wanted to keep their relationship private.

Soon after Webber assigned the interns to their residents, they all left the room, leaving only Jo and the other three residents there.

Jo was organizing her locker when she heard the others gossiping about Alex.

“Ughh, what was I even expecting from this? I have the worst luck ever. Of course I was going to end up with the douchiest resident. You guys heard about him, right?” Jenkins complained, Jo’s eyes glued to the objects in front of her.

“Yeah. His reputation around this place is not the best. I heard he is really good, though. Not everything is lost yet. Let’s wait and see,” Hernandez tried to be positive.

“I heard that too. Looks like he is really talented and hardworking, but I heard that if you’re not one of them, he will treat you like trash no matter what. One of the residents in his class, that is,” Davis added, making Jo’s heart sink a little.

If only they knew a bit more about him, they wouldn’t be so quick to judge. She knew that her boyfriend wasn’t the easiest person to deal with and he still had a lot of growing and learning to do, but he had the biggest heart. Hearing the other residents talk about him made Jo sigh.

“What about you, Wilson? Things aren’t looking good for him already. Dude is already late. First thing he does is make us wait for him. Ever heard anything about the guy?” Jenkins asked Jo, forcing her to pull her head out of the locker and interact with them.

“Not really, to be honest. Maybe he’s not that bad. I’m not the biggest fan of judging people before actually knowing them. Maybe the three of you can give it a shot? Soothes the soul a bit,” Jo gave them a sarcastic smile after closing the locker aggressively. She knew she shouldn’t be doing that. Getting into arguments with the people she was going to spend the next five years of her life glued to. Especially not that early into the thing, but she wasn’t about to let them say bad things about her boyfriend without giving him a chance. And she wasn’t wrong. They really shouldn’t judge him before knowing nothing but his name.

“You find him hot, don’t you?” Hernandez smiled at her. "You saw him earlier when Webber was giving us the tour and you thought he was hot."

Jo didn’t want to blatantly lie to them, so she was more than thankful for the moment Alex interrupted and entered the room.

“Hernandez, Wilson, Jenkins and Davis, come,” he ushered them to get ready.

Alex guided the four interns to the hall before glancing at his girlfriend, who was supporting a poker face like he had never seen before. Still, he could see through it with ease. His face twitched into a crooked half-smile, causing Jo to roll her eyes ever so slightly.

Although he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t excited about having her closer to him, he was worried that their original plan was going to be even harder than they had thought it would be. Knowing that she was going to be so close in proximity to him after a year of being an entire country apart, was going to severely push his restraint.

“So, I’m Dr. Alex Karev and I’ll be your resident. I have five rules, and you’ll have to use your underdeveloped brains to memorize them,” he started walking after noticing Jo was trying hard not to laugh at the things he was saying, but still keeping a straight face.

“Rule number one: don’t even think about kissing my ass. It won’t work. I already hate you, and that’s not gonna change. Rule number two: run! Trauma protocol, phone list, pagers, nurses will page you. You will answer every single page at a run. Your first shift starts now. I have no idea how long it will last. It’s not my problem. You should know that. You’re interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain. You run labs, write orders, work until you drop and don’t complain. I am not going to raise whiny babies,” he stopped in front of a door and eyed the four people in front of him before opening it and walking inside the room. “On call rooms. Attendings hog them to sleep or do other things. You will sleep when you can, where you can, and I don’t want to have to

find any of you doing the nasty anywhere, understand? Rule number three: if I’m sleeping, do not wake me, unless the patient is dying. Four: the dying patient better not be dead when I get there.”

Jo’s eyes shined teasingly as she raised her hand, “You said five rules. That was only four.”

Alex tried not to smirk as his pager went off, “Rule number five: when I move, you move. Let’s go.”

***

Jo’s first shift ended after thirty-six hours. She was completely and utterly exhausted, every muscle in her body protesting as she walked the two blocks from the hospital to her apartment. When she finally made it in the house, Alex was waiting for her with a beer and pizza in hand. He guided her to the couch and helped her sit down.

Jo groaned as her body sank down into the cushions, “I feel like I want to just curl up into a ball on this couch and sleep forever.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Alex chuckled. “I know you’re exhausted, but I need you to eat before you pass out, so take the pizza and beer.”

“I thought you said you hate your interns and that’s not gonna change,” Jo raised her eyebrows. “You’re being awfully nice to me, Dr. Karev. I hope you don’t think that this means I’ll sleep with you. Because even if I wanted to, I think I’m too tired to do anything.”

“Shut up,” Alex rolled his eyes. He looked at her suggestively. “And, you know I don’t mind doing all the work. It might be good for you, ya know? Like a stress reliever. All it will cost you is making sure you get some food in your system.”

“Are you offering to service me?” Jo laughed. This was reason one hundred fifty-seven of why she loved this man. “Is this something you do for all your interns, Dr. Karev?”

“Only the ones I’m in love with,” Alex leaned across the couch for a kiss. “Trust me when I say, I am very eager to please you.”

“You’re so dirty!” Jo giggled and pushed his shoulder lightly. “But, I may have to take you up on that offer.”

The pair talked and laughed while they shared their meal. It was nice being able to spend time together again and finally be on the same page. Agreeing to finish their food, they sat there in silence for a while before Jo spoke up again, “Are you sure this isn’t a conflict of interest? Me being your intern?”

“It might be,” Alex sighed. “I have a hard time telling you no, or when to stop because I respect you and I love you. But I also know that going easy on you would only be a disservice to your career, so I’m going to do my best to let you know when you’re in need of improvement.”

“Thank you,” Jo brought her hand up to his face. “I’m really happy that I’m here.”

“So am I,” Alex grinned. “So, what do you say we go to the room and I’ll… help you relax.”

“Three and a half years in and you still have a one track mind,” Jo shook her head, an amused look on her face.

“What can I say?” Alex shrugged. “I have a super hot girlfriend and can’t get enough of her.”

[keyheartsia-dorm]

*Sighs*

I’m bored let’s do a lore dump

It’s a Map~

Oh Yeah I mentioned a Sprinkle of Final Fantasy and KH but I haven’t talked about that Aspect of my Canon At all have I? Well truth be told it’s cause I’m focusing on getting the more Basic Aspects of my Oc’s Before I get into that but Guess who made this Baby on a Whim!

So this is the Map of the Isle of Light well the Main Island at least there are other Littler Bits of land Yet to surface I̶t̶’̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶t̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶I̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶ ̶A̶d̶d̶ ̶o̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶L̶a̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶h̶a̶h̶a̶ oh yeah did I mention it’s a FLOATING ISLAND!! Yeah P Sick right? Okay so I’ll go into the Island’s History and it’s Area’s but it may have some Spoilers I guess you could say but honestly I wouldn’t wait on me making a full fledged...Anything outta the Story I’ve made like I’ll sum it up (not here but like in general) but comics are hard Videos are hard Fics are hard maybe not individually but this is more of a Anime Series then an Anime movie if you feel me without further ado...Stuff

Oh god this was longer then expected

Some General Background

So The Isle of Light was Originally the Black Forest A Place of Freedom and Expression for all who lead lives who Needed to hide Such and Some Such was The Coven of the Black Forest made up of 3 sisters (not biologically also there was a 4th) they all found comfort and love with each other one being the Princess of the Kingdom nearby (The 4th and Littlest one) She had a fiancé who was Mad with a Lust for power and Control over things he Didn’t need power and control over He Treated the Littlest one Cruelly when the other 3 Decided enough was enough when he did...SOMETHING to Part of the Forest so Horrible it turned Dead and Cruel (Subtle Subtle Hint Hint Wink) When all 3 Of them saw the Ruin They went so mad they turned to Darkness and fought him and all his Manmade monstrosities there when the Princess Arrived there was so much Dark energy everywhere it was Bad like Real Bad So with her friends now monsters she Fought them with a heavy heart her heart broke so much she fell afterwards immediately Unintentionally Sending her Kingdom to somewhere nobody knows where she is though...That’s an even bigger question BUT the story would live on as a Weilder of the key blade who slayed 3 evil witches...(Oh yeah did I mention Crowley knows And that’s Why He Let the Girls Attend because he thought they might be the Black Forest Coven Reincarnated And the Prophecy that when they Awakened the “Keys to their Hearts once more” They’d Free The Princess From her Mirror Prison Oh Yeah also the princess DID Die But her Reincarnation Goes inside a Mirror and is trapped there when she turns 17 and Doesn’t leave until she dIES ALSO ITS HIS OLDEST DAUGHTER THIS TIME ALSO YES HE HAS 2 DAUGHTERS...Okay lemme just calm down..Also yeah she thought of the Princess System) but After a Wish got safe haven for all Keyblade Weilders (I have KH Oc’s other then these don’t ask Longer story they live and basically founded Fortana Haven) I guess the Isle of Light Rose from the Shadow Realm to be just that oh yeah also the Isle of light is literally that kingdom if ya didn’t know

Fortana Haven

(Some Love Nikki BGs for Visualization if I’m Wrong about this from being from Love Nikki Correct me pls and if this is your art sorry and I’ll take it down)

Okay this Place Basically a Modern Fairytale Everything is so Rustic~ but they Have Cafe’s and Stuff~ They’re still very much in Development as a City..or town..or whatever Boss of everything Locket Clover (An OG KH OC) Runs Everything Wonderfully she welcomes everything with open arms and If you wanna run a shop or want a Building for a particular Thing or Activity she’s Pretty open to the idea unless it’s Incredibly Dumb But she will make you get The Wood and Supplies and The Bricks and the Brick Stick Sauce or whatever it’s called she might get give you help constructing but dang is she a firm believer in “DIY” but I like how she’s Determined to Have a Good Balance between Industrial and Rural In fact there is a Mall (God knows how it got there) And that’s pretty much all there is for your Juicy Capitalism Fix She Runs “Hope Stir” Workshop according to Her boyfriend Ephmer It was always Called a workshop but for the longest time she did EVERYTHING Subtle Farmwork And Animal Husbandry ACTUAL Workshop things all cause she wanted to help every Weilder she knew out and made sure they had a place for food and such She is a bit of a Moneyholic but when you’ve been doing what she’s been doing I bet you’d be too overall While it doesn’t have much History yet Fortana Haven (4-Tana is how you say it btw) Is truly well a Haven

The Crowned Castle

(More Pics for Visuals I don’t think this is from love Nikki but if this is your artwork same applies I’m not gonna be the guy who Claims just cause it’s on google it belongs to everybody or something even though yeah I did find it on google)

The...Crown of the Isle of Light Before We came to the Isle for the first time Apparently Everyone In Fortana thought it was Haunted! Which..Fair enough Before we Placed the Princess Medals (Okay QUICK SUMMARY OF THIS BIT Okay so in the KH Mobile game there’s Medals and I wanted them to be in my story basically They’re Memories formed into powers when all my Oc’s Met the Princess’s Of Heart They Each got a Medal Representing them and then the Medals Restored the Castle I left out some details but basically that’s it) This Castle is the BOMB There’s Cool Pretty Princess Room’s And a Bedroom JUST FOR SLUMBER PARTIES!! And it’s just a good Place to Vibe and Hang out with your friends (I’m sorry I’m about to Lore Dumb all over this place) The Princess’s Fiancé Made a Crown for her before she could put it on he put some of his Subconscious in it poor Eden When she wanted to get stronger for Malleus (Malleus is her adoptive big brother and she was upset cause she felt she wasn’t good enough ran away to get power and found the crown) It really did almost completely overtake her I shudder thinking about it “Kachow”...Ew (The fiancé said that a lot ok) a lotta bad stuff happened here but as selfish as this may sound I feel like I earned my spot here and I wanna keep sharing it with my friends

The Matteria Deadland

(Also Imagine some Pointy Mountains and some Lite Mech debris)

Man What to say... So Much Happened here as well probably Tragedy I can’t comprehend there is a few good places about this place though Diane likes to Scavange around Here for Interesting Debris Eden doesn’t like the Air around here but she says she finds Interesting Jewels here and Latte says the same thing so there is good to be found here We all come here every so often to try to help..Anything grow but they don’t call this deadland for nothing but still ya can’t give up hope! I wanna grow some beautiful Lillies here one day! Also hey! Also pretty cool name (Matter-RI-a is how you say it btw) All the sadness that happened here it actually did make the land rich in Metal if nothing else there’s even a whole Cavern we found in the mountains...it almost killed us but we found it

Opal Cove

(also these are Gacha Backgrounds)

Is this Place an Actual Cove? Idk

Is this Place super cool and pretty? Yeah

Is this one of my favorite places in this whole Isle? FRICK YEAH

okay I love a lot about this Isle but Opal Cove!!

Our mermaid friend Mitella I guess “Runs” the Place Our KINDA merman Friend Skye also spends a whole lotta time here Basically it’s a Giant Pool and rumor has it...It’s endless Water...CAUSE IT IS SOMEHOW CAUSE I KNOW weird thing is the Sand it’s at the end of the Isle so there’s not really a beach just...Sand Near Water Odd The Coral Near the Bottom or well “Bottom” Is SO PRETTY it’s like Crystals in the morning the light shines its SO DANG PRETTY I’m glad Mitella is a Sea Witch Or else we couldn’t go so deep underwater it’s SOOO worth it!! She does NOT let a lotta people at once though Heck she doesn’t like Skye that much from what I can tell but she makes an Exception for ~friends~ So...BE NICE TO OUR CUTE MITELLA I’m glad we have a Convient Place for Blitzball practice and also Swimming around with pretty Mermaid Tails (New Nix Mermaid Action Fashion Doll only 25.99! Get it for your Child or they’ll cry!! Also a 5 dollar Boy doll take his Shirt off! That’s it!) Hyde Mi And Skye are kinda an Iconic Trio Mi Also Teaches how to swim with a mermaid tail better for the Weilders who wanna go to Atlantica Hey Mermaids gotta eat so get a Swim Lesson! (And also a transforming Mermaid Doll!)

Bianco Nero Forest

Well tbh I have the least to say because it’s Appeal is simple ADVENTURE AND MYSTERY! Lots can happen in Bianco Nero it’s Basically the Base foundation of the whole Isle! Presumably cause it’s the Black Forest or was at least though it can be dangerous it’s the only place heartless are know to appear in the whole isle (So where you’ll grind In the Video Game that’ll definitely happen :Says the girl who can’t commit to a single comic) They drop all sortsa cool stuff! Heck you can FIND Cool stuff just...Around so..Yeah!!

It’s 2 am maybe I’ll edit this later thanks for reading sorry I got obviously tired by the end goodbye my dearests~ (Seriously y’all deserve like a reward for reading this dumpster fire) I was inspired by those maps in those scholastic books like the Rainbow Fairies I think it was called (Anyone remember those?) that had lil maps in the beginning and also the map’s stickers all on PicsArt

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

The Rabbit of Night Raven Chapter 1: Demons in high places Pt 2

Part 1 is here

For the next few days, Amane was running her dry with all his demands, as well as her money. They ranged from annoying to atrocious. But she bared through it all.

Jack, Epel, and Sebek found not long after, been informed by Ace and Deuce. They offered to take care of Amane so she could rest but declined. Amane might blackmail her that she wasn't doing her job as a hostess, not to mention he might make them uncomfortable as well. She just had to soldier on.

"I forgot to ask, how did you end up with those wounds?"

It was a Sunday morning, and Valerie just brought his breakfast. A plate of raspberry and chocolate waffles, and Darjeeling tea. He demanded it to be made since he said he wanted his favorite breakfast. He nearly emptied her wallet, because of how expensive the raspberries are.

She also decided to eat with him this time, to hopefully build a better level of trust. Grim was downstairs, saying he didn't want to be in the same room as him. He paused mid-bite and narrowed his eyes.

"Why the fuck should I tell ya? We don't exactly see eye-to-eye ya know."

"I know, but I thought I could understand you better. Despite, the sexist nicknames, and overall rudeness. I can tell you're not a bad person."

Amane studied her face to find any hint of mockery, or deception. However, to his surprise there was none. Her face was earnest, as she patiently waited for him to speak. He sighed.

"My shitty dad did this to me."

This shocked her, but he paid no mind and continued.

"I did something he didn't like and got punished."

"Wha-What did you do?"

"I gave some information to our rival company, safe to say my old man was not pleased. My friend is the CEO's kid, my dad was planning an assassination attempt on him, but I eavesdrop on one of his meetings and managed to phone her just on time. He saw this as an act of betrayal and punished me for it."

"Didn't you're mother do anything! What about the rest of you're family?"

"My mother had no power, and the rest of them agreed with my dad."

She went silent and contemplated. She had one question in her mind.

"But...How did you manage to end up in that crater? Night Raven is miles away from any other piece of land."

It was his turn to be silent. Amane looked away as he pondered for an appropriate response. Finally, he faced her.

“You see Sugar tits, my family and I are demons, sex demons to be exact. He probably used teleportation magic to get rid of me, and erase any evidence."

A demon, an incubus no less, well, that did explain why he didn't die so easily when she found him. Though she should have guessed he was a supernatural being, his ears were a dead giveaway. Speaking of which, she remembered what she first thought he was and let out a giggle.

Amane furrowed his brows. "What's so funny?"

She turned to him still giggling.

"I thought you were some kind of fae, with you're ears and all."

He knit his brows at her answer, before giving out a hearty chuckle.

"Haha, you actually thought I was one of those guys. Fairies are overrated  Hun, demons are what's hot."

"Oh really? they've been so overused in the media, I thought they were the overrated beings." She smirked. He gave out another chuckle.

"Oh, honey. That just means we're more lovable."

They let out another good-hearted laugh before the girl asked another question.

"So...Is there anything else I should know about you or demons?" He let out a thoughtful hum before answering.

"You know about demon pacts, yeah?" She nodded.

"Well, back in the old days my family would perform blood pacts with people who they are eternally grateful for and give them gifts as a sign of their loyalty."

He gave her a close-lipped smile.

"But of course, you won't see me that Sugar tits, I ain't exactly grateful to be in your care but it will do.'"

"Keep that attitude up, and you'll be relying on Grim."

"He's cute but unreliable and a bit whiny for my tastes."

She laughed. She was about to reply when she heard the said monster calling for her. Valerie muttered under breath on how he's such a whiny baby, but there was a smile on her face.

"I'll see you later. Call when me you need something." She got up and left. Leaving Amane in his thoughts.

No one, but his mother and his best friend were that kind to him.

Maybe she ain't so bad.

_____________________________________

Night came quickly. Valerie decided she and Grim will have dinner with Amane. Technically, she had to bribe him with her tuna casserole to get him to cooperate, and just like that he's happily eating his third serving with them.

"Mmmmm~ The cheese complements the tuna so well! You really outdid yourself Henchwoman!"

"Is he always like this?" Amane whispered as he watched Grim loudly eating his food with a blank look on his face.

"Yeah, but it's his charming point, I guess."

Unexpectedly, after their conversation this morning. Amane didn't bother her as much, just an occasional glass of water or a trip to the bathroom. She didn't know what changed his attitude, but it was welcomed regardless.

"So. After you get better, wanna hang out sometime?" He glanced at her mildly surprised, but a cheeky smirk made it's to his face.

"Asking me on a date are you Sugar tits? So bold~ But alas, girls aren't my thing, but if you're setting me up with one of your boy toys I'll happily oblige."

She giggled and lightly punched his shoulder. "No, I mean for us hang out as friends, and I don't think I should introduce you to guys just yet. Unless you want to traumatize their minds with all your flirting."

"Their loss if they can't handle this firecracker."

Valerie smiled. She liked this side of Amane better, he was easy to talk to and made great jokes, even if his humor is a little...Vulgar. After dinner, she helped Amane get ready for bed, then her and Grim's turn to retire.

"Kid, hey kid." She groaned and turned over. But she felt the covers being forcefully removed.  Groggily she sat up, she asked what's wrong.

"It's Amane, he's been crying for thirty minutes. We tried to comfort him but it got worse." Wilbur answered, concern evident in his voice.

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, finally registering the loud screaming and crying, and the ghosts concerned expressions. She rapidly got out of bed, waking Grim up in the process, and sprinted to Amane's room.

He was a mess when she got to him. Amane was thrashing around, covered in sweat and tears leaked out of his eyes. He was mumbling in his sleep.

"N-No! Stop it!... Please I-I'm sorry, no more." He choked out a sob. Her heart clenched at the sight. She climbed on the bed and managed to wrapped her arms around him.

"Amane! Amane it's alright, no one's here to hurt you. It's not real!"

He jolted up and she caught the sight of his face. His eyes were red and his breathe were ragged. He started to chew on his bottom lip, and his eyes welled up with tears again. He buried his face on her chest, his body wracked with an onslaught of sobs and tears.

She rubbed circles on his back in an attempt to comfort him and whispered more words of reassurance. It took a while, but he managed to calm down. They sat in silence, save for Amane's occasional sniffles.

"Hey, Valerie." This was the first time he said her name properly. "Ratting my dad out wasn't the only reason he beat me."

He confessed that the other reason he was actually a bastard child. His mother had an affair with one of his father's employees once she found out he had a mistress. She was going to announce the divorce during their anniversary when his father blackmailed her to stay with him. Amane didn't know what it was, but it worked.

He told her that since he was the only child, his father expected him to take over his place one day, and produce an heir. Unfortunately for him, he was interested in boys and didn't like the idea of taking over his father's company.

His mother was the only person who accepted him, while his father was outraged. He argued he could just adopt a child, but it only made it worse. The rest of his family expressed their disappointment in him, in everything he did, and voted him to be banned from the family.

Valerie, just sat there as he continued to cry. She soothed him, telling him that it's okay, that it's not his obligation to live up to his family standards, whatever he does his choice only not theirs. That he should be free from their hateful opinions.

She spied the ghosts and Grim at the doorway but didn't say anything, opted to just comfort the man in her arms.

_____________________________________

After that night, their relationship changed drastically. He was more open to her, more friendly, and used her name often. He told her stories about his childhood and his best friend Lorelei, who was also a demon descendant, notably a spider demon. A famous idol who's known for incorporating spiders into her aesthetic. He promised her to introduce them sometime.

In return, she confessed to him she was from another world and he didn't look a leased bit surprised.

"Honey, after all the shit I've been through, nothing surprises me at this point."

She told about her life in Night Raven, how she constantly solved the school's overblot problem, and how she's basically Crowley's errand girl.

"The school is lucky that I don't have any magic. With all the stressful situations I've been through, I would have overblotted and destroy the entire school.'"

She shared stories about her and her friends' shenanigans, and the rest of the boys. He questioned if any of the boys were her boyfriend, cause he noticed how affectionate she was to all of them. She told him no, she was just like that normally.

"I don't understand why they turn red whenever I hug them or kiss their cheeks. I mean, showing affection to friends is normal."

Ahh. The oblivious type.

_____________________________________

It was finally the day Amane recuperate, and to go home. They were in the mirror chamber and Crowley was there to wish him the best of health, (and maybe exploit some money from him.) He wore the clothes when she found him, all clean and fixed.

"Mr. Mania I hope your stay was pleasant, and I wish for you the best of health, A reward is not needed, a simple thanks will do for I am gracious. But if you like, then I am in no room to argue."

Valerie mentally rolled her eyes at that but gave Amane a soft but sad smile. She was slowly getting used to his company and almost asked if he could stay longer, but she refused to be selfish. Instead, she just hugged the man, which he reciprocated.

"I hope you come back soon."

"Of course I will Val, ain't nothing gonna stop this firecracker." He turned his attention to Grim and gave him a noogie.

"Of course I'll come back for you too, ya little shit."

"Fguaa! Just get out of here!"

He gave them a crooked grin and walked away. Valerie watched as he walked away, hoping she could meet him again. However, after a few steps, he stopped and ran back to her. This perplexed them, especially when he got into one knee and took her hands.

"Valerie Kemonihito, I wished to have a blood pact with you, I am forever in your debt."

They stared at him as if he grew three heads. None of them couldn't believe his words. A blood pact? What was he doing? Valerie was the first to recover.

"Amane you don't have to do this, you don't have a debt towards me." She tried to reason, but he furiously shook his head.

"No, I do. You have saved my life and brought me peace and comfort when I am at my most vulnerable, you have accepted me as I am, and have not judged me for my past, and for those reasons. So please, accept it."

They all stared, waiting for her answer. After a few agonizing seconds, she responded.

"It won't hurt that much right?" Amane smiled.

"Not much, just a tiny prick will do."

"Alright let's do it."

"Are you sure Ms. Kemonohito?" Crowley cut in. "Blood pacts are a serious oath that should not be taken likely if ever one of the party's' will break it, death is the only punishment."

Valerie gazed at Amane, there was no hint of mischief, the determination is clear on his face.

"I'm sure." Amane smiled and got up.

"Okay." He brought his hand up, claws grew and took his index finger and slowly cut a small line in both their hands. Valerie winced but bared with it.

"Now we hold hands and recite our own oath, I'll go first." He cleared his throat.

"I, Amane Mania will dedicate my life to serve you. Wherever you are and whenever you are, I shall protect you with my life, and bring you justice if ever I failed to protect you."

"I, Valerie Kemonohito will do my best to be kind and just to you. So you may never suffer or feel lonely, you are welcome to be with me as much as you want so you may never feel ostracize again."

As they said these words, a dark reddish light enveloped them. The blood on their hands swirled and mixed together before engraving it in their skins like tattoos, going up to their arms all the way to their faces.

Grim and Crowley watch the spectacle, astounded but frighten as the light died down, and their marks disappearing.

Valerie blinked, she stared at their hands. All healed as if he didn't cut them. She cut off from her musings when Amane spoke.

"With this blood pact, you can summon me anytime time you want, no matter the place I will be with you. All you have to do is either call my name three times or use your blood and call my name." He informed.

"And now for my tribute. Give me a moment."

He raised his hands, chanting words under his breath a pinkish glow covered his hands, when the light died down a silver necklace inlaid with pink quartz appeared.

“Alright, c’mere.” He turned her around and clasp it on her.

“This was an heirloom, but only those who we think are worthy may have this and I want you to take it.” Valerie admired the the craftsmanship of it and beamed up to him.

“Thank you.” He ruffled her hair.

“No problem, now time to to get my ride. Y’all better step back.”

They did just that. Amane closed his eyes before muttering incomprehensible words, a star pentagon appeared before their eyes, it glowed a red malevolent aura, then a screech.

It was horrendous. The sound shook the ground and cracked the windows but weirdly not the mirrors, finally, a giant figure swooped up and landed next to Amane. It was a monster, it was twenty-foot tall, it had a humanoid body but its hands and feet had dangerously sharp talons, its wings were big as its body, and it’s head reminded her of an owl but the sharp teeth made her reconsider.

"Mr. Mania! Do you realize what you have summoned!?" The fear and shock were clear in Crowley's voice as he stared at the creature.

'"What is that!? It's so ugly!" Grime cried. He hid in Valerie's clothes as it's glowing amber eyes glared at him for his comment.

"This is a Strix. A demonic vampire owl that feasts on human flesh and blood. Lucky for you, this girl likes what normal owls eat so your good." The strix's feathers were the colors of pecan and it had small tufts of white.

"Her name is Lisha, I saved her when she was being bullied from her own kind. Lisha that's Valerie." Valerie shrunk when the strix's gaze shifted from Grim to her.

Lisha tilted her head curiously before leaning towards the girl, sniffing her hair and clothes. Valerie stood still as it goes on. Finally, she let out a happy chirped and nuzzled her. Valerie let out a surprised gasp but laughed and wrapped her arms around her head.

“How about that? Lisha doesn’t usually like strangers, but it seems your an exception.” He grinned

Valerie ran her fingers in Lisha feathers, they were soft and smooth. The monster purred in content.

"I'll be off, for real this time." He got onto Lisha’s back, but Valerie spoke up.

"Wait where are you staying?"

"I'll go to Lorelei. Her dad and I are cool cause I saved his life." The star pentagon glowed. He looked back, he gave one final smirk and disappeared.

Valerie smiled fondly, she scratched Grim’s ears as an attempt to comfort him.

"Well." Crowley coughed. "Now that's over, Ms. Kemonohito I hope you learned something from this experience.”

"Yes, sir."

"Good now I must be off. Crewel will have my hind if I keep him waiting." He muttered as he walked off.

Just as he walked out, her first-year friends ran in. All with worried expressions on their faces.

"Valerie! We heard a screech and it came h-"

"Oh, it came from Amane’s familiar.” She answered.

“Damn, nice ice Val.” Ace commented looking at her necklace.

“Thanks. Amane gave her to me as a gift." The mentioned of his name sent shivers to the ADeuce duo as they recalled his...Advances towards them.

"Its beautiful." Epel was sure Vil would approve of it.

"He didn't do anything obscene, Valerie?" Sebek eyed at the peice of jewelry, feeling something different about it.

"No, but we did a blood pact though." That made them froze.

"You did what?" The fae's voice was low for once as he and the rest of the boys stared her, wide-eyed and slacked jawed.

"A blood pact."

All hell broke loose.

The boys were screaming at her, asking why would she do that, and promising to beat the life out of Amane, thinking he forced it on her.

Valerie pursed her lips, she set Grim down before hitting their head. They grunted in pain.

"Okay before you guys go off. Amane did this as a sign of his gratitude and gave me this necklace as a sign of loyalty. He was actually a great guy once you get to know him, and he's just misunderstood. He even promised to come back and hang out, you should join us."

Ace and Deuce paled at the mention that he was coming back to Night Raven, but jealousy grew in their stomachs like the rest of the boys. Hearing her talked so fondly of him irritated them, but she didn't notice.

"Fine, we'll consider your offer Princess. But we won't hesitate to gut that guy if he makes you upset." Ace huffed. She grinned.

"Thank you so much. Now if you excuse me, I'll have to buy groceries." She kissed their cheeks.

She happily walked out leaving five red-faced boys and made her way to Sam's shop. 

"Hey while we're at it, can we buy some premium tuna. I need it after all I've been through."

"Fine, you've deserved it." He cheered.

She giggled. Admiring her necklace, it glinted brightly under the sun. Her thoughts drifted to Amane, hoping he was alright. She knows she'll see him again after this is Twisted Wonderland

[spiltscribbles]

I Crave You And That is All

Notes: A reblog is worth a thousand stars 

.-

Sometimes I just look at Baz— At his gray eyes that go molten in the light and his ridiculous cheekbones that could literally cut right through glass and the precise shape to his cupids bow lips that I always want to kiss— and I can hardly believe that we’re actually  together, an item— that against all odds we’ve somehow stumbled into something like love. Something that makes my chest contract, and my stomach tumble itself into knots, and sometimes when Baz touches me— always so tenderly— it feels like their’s a thrill prickling up my spine, magic revived within me once more.

For instance, it feels that way right now, but just a thousand times more maddening.

Penelope’s spending the night at her parents place over the sprint holiday, bidding farewell by crowing a pointed, “Please let loose of the sexual tension before it suffocates us all,” to us, which makes it so Baz’s face goes utterly scarlet, and I can’t help but  sputter an indignant “Hop off!” before tossing her the bird. Penelope had only cast us one last smirk, always so very smug. But whatever, that doesn’t matter.

What does matter is that the moment the front door slammed shut, Baz and I scrambled towards one another like clashing tornados, hips rocking against hips in a frankly obscene motion, and  swapping kisses  with such fucking ferociousness  that I’m positively  sure there’ll be bruising around each of our  lips tomorrow, but I don’t care, just as long as I can finally tug off Baz’s shirt, and run greedy hands up and down his hard torso, and breathe him in deep, He always smells like sandalwood and blossoming fields and something indescribably incandescent, something distinctly his own.

“Crowley, I’ve missed you,” Baz chokes out between a gasp when I begin to nip at the hinge of his unfairly sharp jaw, the way that always gets him writhing.  I wouldn’t admit this in the light of day, but  my heart does a ridiculous swooping motion when I hear that, pressing Baz even closer like its all I have to give.

We’ve seen one another nearly every day since all of it— Since the Humdrum, and the Mage. After I became a fucking normal, no matter what Baz or Penny try to say otherwise. But I understand what Baz means with the feeling of having missed me, we’re always around a damn crowd of people, or Baz has to make it back to Watford before curfew, or what the fuck ever. It’s been too long— nearly a month— since I’ve been able to just hold him like this, to see that particular flush run down Baz’s chiseled features. Since I got to knot a hand in Baz’s thick mop of hair. Since I got to suck Baz’s plump bottom lip into my mouth and fucking bite, ears ringing with the splendid sound of Baz’s moan that comes out right then.

“It’s been so damn long.”

.-

We’re lying naked on the bed now, the tip of Baz’s finger tracing random designs against my bare skin, intermittently cut off by him peppering kisses along my freckles or moles.

“You are really good at that,” I tell him, breathless as I flip around so that we’re face to face again, so I can see the way Baz’s hair spills on the sheets with abandon, and the beautiful contrast of the bruises I left on his hips while I was pounding into him against his sides,  and how his eyes gaze at me with such raw wanting that it makes it so my insides sing with glee.

“You said that already Snow,” Baz goads with heavy breaths. Truthfully, I   wish he hadn’t called me by my surname, I much  rather hear the soft lilt to his voice curling around Simon instead, is thrilled on those nights when Baz really sheds himself of all the walls I know I  had a part in building up in the first place. The nights when Baz curves against me so gingerly, nights when he says that he loves me in such hushed breaths that skirt against my skin, ones  punctured with kisses against my collar bone. The nights when he calls me love, or even once darling when I had actually  had made him laugh with such mirth that the blue in Baz’s gray eyes shone so brightly that it punched the breath right out of me.

“Don’t be a prick Pitch,” I bristle, leaning  into the familiarity of it— of our bickering and banter, even it’s so much more now— when Baz’s my entire world.   

Lazily, I tug on a lock of his impossibly soft hair. For fuck’s sake not even Agatha’s was quite as silky. 

Baz’s smile goes diffident, as much of an apology as he’ll ever offer and as much as I  will ever except.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells me instead, cups a hand around my cheek and kisses my lips with such  aching gentleness.

We stay like that for a while, with me lying naked atop him  and the both of us forever yearning for the other. But inevitably we have to pull apart for air, and of course Baz has to ruin the moment by joking about me using too much spit.

“I can’t believe my boyfriend’s such a damn tosser,” I pout moodily, collapsing besides him with my arms crossed against my chest, and I only feel better when I hear the dulcet sound of Baz’s laughter pouring out his lips when he throws his dark head back, humor painting him in brilliant lights.

“’s only a joke Snow, I rather like your primitive fashion,” Baz goads, snuggling closer to me and pressing a kiss to my cheek in penance.

“Oy, why don’t you make me a pot of tea then,” I snark moodily at a Baz who   is still positively beaming. Can’t help but laugh at my grimace.

“’S one in the morning.”

“I’m thirsty,” I pout.

“Then make your own bloody tea,” Baz huffs, rolling his eyes heavenwards but never really meaning it.  He still  never stops touching me, like he can’t get enough of it, like somehow this was Baz’s dream come true instead of the other way around— you know, super repressed dreams that I would’ve never admitted in the light of day.

“What can I say lover,” I preen, pecking the corner of his mouth knowing  full and well  that it makes Baz melt just slightly. “You wore me out.”

“You’re such a prick,” Baz retorts, lips curled and cheeks infused red.

“But?” I press with a cocked brow.

“But nothing Snow, you are a prick.” Baz charges.  I don’t say anything, only leer after  him, watching as the delectable sight of Baz’s naked form gets up, headed to the kitchen.

For the record, I definitely do not wince when Baz throws a spare pillow at my head. “Not a fucking show Snow.”

“I reckon I’ve got some spare notes if you felt unappreciated,” I call out in response, totally gleeful.

The glare Baz threw my way was downright menacing, but also very very hot. It’s unfair how he could pull that off, truly.

.-

I’m not sure when exactly I start to doze off, all that I notice is Baz— as quiet and graceful as ever— stealthily slipping back into the room some time later, setting the tea to the side and carding a ginger hand through my bronze curls. He’s so quiet about it, but I think I’ll always just be attuned to him, going alert whenever he so much even looks at me. Once I had  thunk it a survival technique, but now I know full and well how desperate I had been just to get Baz to look at me, to spare me some of his attention just for that infinitesimal moment of the day.

“Good night Habibi,” Baz tells me, just above a whisper, before pecking a barely there kiss to my forehead.

A feeling I can’t quite parse out— something splendid, something so warm and lovely— coils deep in my gut. 

Of course I  recognize the word, Habibi, an Arabic pet name that Natasha had constantly crooned to a pampered Baz, doting and delighted, when he was only a child— before all the madness that altered his world so completely.

I know without Baz ever having to say as much  that Baz only speaks the language on his especially bright days, usually sticks to incantations in English or French or Latin or Greek— I know that the Arabic reminds him too much of what he had, of what he lost. But occasionally, these small words would pour from his lips without his seeming to even realize it, and only ever when in regards to me. It’s something so fragile, so precious, that I never dare to  put any lyrics to it, just let it happen and try to show Baz how much it means to me in the silence that follows.

When Baz crawls back into bed with me, I do just that, cuddling closer and wrapping a protective arm around his torso and  kissing the sole dimple on his left shoulder. Baz relaxes into the embrace, and everything feels miraculous.

[mostweakhamlets]

Tedious Turning of Pages and Toys

Bea is a somewhat successful lawyer, co-parent, and divorcee whose son befriends the new girl at school with a hot aunt. Crowley is the most doting parent in the world to make up for the fact that he's never been in a committed relationship with his daughter's other father.

Together, they carpool and provide healthy snacks at Sports Day with healthy doses of bitching in between.

Read on AO3 | Posted first on Patreon

Thursday

Bea woke up to silence, which hadn’t happened in over 6 years.

At first, they thought that maybe they had woken up in the middle of the night. They thought this with a little joy, knowing they could roll over and get maybe another three hours of sleep. Maybe four. They curbed their enthusiasm at five hours. They hadn’t had more than five hours of sleep in years.

But there was a nagging feeling underneath, chewing at their stomach. Maybe they had slept through their alarm, and they were hours late to work and Cain was hours late to school.

It was silly, they thought. They had an extra cup of coffee the day before. The caffeine was keeping them up.

But they opened their eyes. And saw light through a gap in their curtains.

“Shit.”

They grabbed their phone off their nightstand. Their alarm, annoyingly, was set to 6:00 pm.

“Shit.”

They had 20 minutes to get themselves and Cain dressed, fed, groomed, and out the door. It could be worse, they thought. 20 minutes was enough time to throw on clothes and shove a granola bar at Cain. They could eat at their office—their desk had an abundance of processed foods stored away inside it—and brush their hair in the car, then their teeth in the office bathroom.

And if there wasn’t time to detangle Cain’s hair or scrub his face free od crumbs, well, little boys were supposed to be messy. No one would look at a little boy with untidy hair and think, “That’s quite unusual.” Especially when dirt and bugs seemed attracted to them like a magnet. It was a rule of the universe. Little boys get to be messy without judgment.

“Cain, get up. We overslept.” Cain whined when Bea turned the lights on and threw his blankets off of him. “Come on. Get your uniform on.”

The six-year-old boy sat up with a scowl that rivaled his zaza’s. Bea was pleased that he had inherited that from them even if most of the time he was a walking ball of sunshine. They had no idea where that came from with a zaza like them and a father like Gabriel.

“Come on. Trousers. Shirt.”

Cain was a spitting image of Bea. He had their blue eyes and dark, unruly hair. Everyone had said that it was a shame he didn’t look more like Gabriel—specifically, that he didn’t get Gabriel’s purple eyes. Bea usually snapped in response, “They’re not purple actually. They’re just a really odd shade of gray. And Cain would probably get bullied if he had purple eyes, so it’s best they came out blue, isn’t it?”

Every night for the past four years, Bea rejoiced in the fact that Cain looked so little like Gabriel.

Once he was in his little school uniform and running off to the bathroom, Bea returned to their own room with a prayer that they had an outfit for the day. Laundry day had been skipped when Cain needed supplies from the craft store for a project on Tuesday and the skipped again when Bea desperately needed a nap on Wednesday.

They pulled their last top out of the closet and grabbed a somewhat-clean pair of trousers from the chair in the corner. It would have to do. Laundry could be done that night when they got home. It would need to get done. Cain was running dangerously low on clean pants.

“Zaza!”

A distressed voice came from the bathroom as Bea shook out the jacket they had worn every day that week.

“What is it?” they called back.

“Zaza!”

Bea sighed. “One minute!”

While tucking their top into their trousers, they began to make their way to the bathroom where Cain was yelling. Their phone buzzing behind them stopped them and forced them to turn on their heel.

They didn’t want a call. They wanted to get Cain in his shoes and backpack and out the door.

“What do you want?”

“I have a huge favor to ask of you.” On the other end of the phone, Anthony Crowley sounded hoarse and tired, and Bea knew where the conversation was going. “Can you pick up Eden and take her to school?”

“Are you serious?”

“I have that bug that’s going around. I can’t take her.”

Bea took a moment to breathe in deeply. There was no time to get angry even if Crowley made their ears ring and heart race.

“Only if Cain gets picked up with Eden today.”

“Fine. Zira’s doing pick up. I’ll let him know.”

Bea didn’t like leaving Cain in the care of Zira. He was the only man to make Bea see red just by existing.

Cain learned bad things from him. Like to be nice to everyone regardless of what they do. And to always turn the other cheek when wronged. Bea didn’t want Cain to become a push-over. They wanted him to stand his ground and have the balls to tell people what he really thought of them. The world didn’t need any overly-friendly kindness.

And Zira wasn’t even a totally kind person. He was passive-aggressive and spiteful and hid behind his nice guy persona to maintain his holier-than-thou complex.

Bea dwelled on this as they brushed a knot out of Cain’s hair.

“We have to leave a bit earlier to pick up Eden,” they said. And then, mostly to themselves, “It takes only five minutes to get to their house, but it’s in the opposite direction from school. So, it’ll take 15 minutes instead of 10 to get to school. We’d have to leave Crowley’s house at 7:45 to get to school on time. Which means we have to leave here at 7:40. Which is…” Bea looked at their phone. “5 minutes ago.”

Bea rushed Cain through the rest of their morning routines. They brushed his teeth quickly (they had a spare toothbrush and travel-sized toothpaste in their work bag for mornings like these) and shoved shoes onto feet. Bea rutted around in the glove department in their car on their way to Crowley’s house until they found an abandoned energy bar that resembled a brick under a napkin and an empty bottle of pain relievers.

“Eat that.” Cain happily began to. “I’ll get Eden.”

Crowley answered the door in his robe and childless. He was pale, and his hair was pulled into a messy bun.

“Where is she? We’re late?”

Crowley leaned in the doorway. “Didn’t you get my text?”

“No. I was trying to leave my house so I could tote your child off to school on time. I didn’t look at my texts. Why would I look at my texts?”

“Eden’s sick, too. She vomited on her uniform. I called her off—”

Bea was already storming away. They stopped half-way down the walkway and turned back around.

“Can Zira still pick up Cain?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Bea wrinkled their nose when they imagined Cain walking home with him, probably being asked about the best parts of his day and being praised when Zira heard he shared a snack.

“You know, forget it. I’ll get him on my break.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure.”

There was no way they were going to make it to school or work on time now. All because of the diseased Crowleys. All because they had tossed their phone into the bottom of their bag rather than their jacket pocket as they usually did.

“Where’s Eden?” Cain asked, mouth covered in chocolate (did the energy bar have chocolate in it?), when Bea slid back into the car.

“Eden’s ill.” Bea threw the car into reverse. “She’s bloody ill.”

--

Crowley waited until Eden was sound asleep before he called Zira. He brushed her red hair away from her feverish brow while the phone rung.

While his stomach had calmed with a cup of tea, Eden only wanted the comfort of her father to cure her ills. And who was Crowley to deny her that when he knew that a good cuddle was the best medicine?

“Anthony?”

“Hey, angel.”

“What’s the matter? You sound ill.”

Crowley smiled. Zira was so intuitive. “I am. And so is Eden. I was just letting you know that you don’t have to pick her up from school today. Or probably tomorrow. We’re taking the rest of the week off.”

“Poor things.”

“You don’t have to have her this weekend, either. I’ll keep her here.”

There was a pause before Zira spoke again. “I don’t feel like I have to have her.”

“Yeah. But you get the weekend off, either way.”

“It’s not like she’s a kid I’m babysitting. She’s my daughter.”

“I know. I know. I just mean… it’ll be a nice break, you know? Just you and yourself.”

“I like having her.”

“I know you do.”

“I look forward to our weekends together. If she’s ill, then keep her home. But I never feel like I have to look after her.”

Crowley rubbed Eden’s back. She was the best thing to ever happen to either of them. They adored her, and she was doted on every minute they had her.

If anything, she was the main reason Zira and Crowley maintained their weird-somewhat-relationship-thing. Co-parenting allowed for phone calls and texts and dinners. They went to school programs and did shopping for Christmases and birthdays together. They alternated whose house they did holidays at and occasionally took trips out of London. They had dozens of pictures of the three of them at beaches and in little shops and cafes. Crowley couldn’t have asked for a better co-parent/sometimes-boyfriend.

But Crowley felt that sometimes Zira didn’t know what to do with her. He had confessed once that he was paralyzed with fear the first he had her one his own. She was just a baby, and he barely left her side. Even at night, he slept in a chair next to her crib with everything she could possibly need on standby.

“She’s not a chore,” Aziraphale said. “She’s my daughter.”

“Yeah.”

Aziraphale continued to struggle as she got older. He tended to spoil her with anything she wanted—too afraid to say no in fear that she would develop any resentment towards him. When Crowley said bedtime was at 8, Aziraphale would let her stay up until 8:30. When Crowley told her no sweets too close to dinner, Aziraphale would sneak whatever she wanted to her.

Crowley thought of it less as parenting and more of an anxious attempt to be Eden’s friend, which left him in the dangerous position of being the strict parent.

“If you’d like, you could always pick her up from school Monday,” Crowley said.

“I’d love to, but I’m working late Monday.”

“Right.”

“But maybe we could all have dinner then if you’re both feeling up to it. I’ll cook.”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll let you two rest. Feel better. Give Eden a kiss for me.”

“Will do, angel.”

[amaya777]

Kiss The Boy | A Twisted Wonderland OC Oneshot

This is another oneshot for my Twisted Wonderland OC, Sander Erickson. If the title didn’t give it away considering the reference and his inspiration, this will now be establishing a romantic ship between him and a certain octopus. I hope that you all enjoy it, despite how as made evident in the previous oneshot, that this will definitely not be the most healthy of relationships for right now.

Trigger warnings: Bullying, physical violence, blood, emotional/mental manipulation, toxic/unhealthy relationship

------------------------------------

It’s been a couple weeks and so far Sander has enjoyed working in the Monstro Lounge underneath Azul. He’s learned how to bus tables, be a server and wait on customers, figure out the layout of the school along with finding out what it takes to run a restaurant. It’s fun getting to see the smiles on customers’ faces as they enjoy their food and drinks, leaving in a good mood and wanting to come back again. But from what Azul has said, they still have to make enough money to cover operating costs and still gain a profit too.

But with working so close to Azul, something else has changed within Sander too. He had started wanting to become more like Azul, which hasn’t changed at all really. Now though, he feels very happy whenever he sees Azul, heart racing from seeing his smile after he’s done a good job or completed an errand. Little things like the way Azul walks into the room commanding respect or how he is such a gentleman with customers made his heart beat so much, finding it hard not to stare at the other sometimes but hiding it and his blushing face.

Sander knew from having read stories involving romance that these signs meant he was in love, but didn’t think that it would be returned. After all, it’s Azul Ashengrotto. He could have anyone that he wants, surely someone like that could never possibly love an ordinary boy like him. For now, he would love from afar and just be glad to be working with and learning from him at least.

He was coming back from Sam’s Mystery Shop, having delivered something to him for Azul while he closed up the Monstro Lounge for the night. He was on his way back to his dorm, having noticed how late it was when he felt himself bump into someone’s shoulder.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! If you’ll excuse me..”

Sander bowed his head deep and started to walk away, only to be pulled back hard by his wrist. That’s when he saw that it was a tall Savanaclaw student, several other upperclassmen from the same dorm with him as well.

“Ah, so you’re the Octavinelle brat huh? We were waiting and looking to finally have some fun. You did just bump into me, can’t let you get away with that.”

Sander saw the smirk on the student’s face as the others were smiling too, struggling to pull himself free of the other’s grip.

“I-I did not mean to, I’m sorry! Please, I need to get going!”

He told them, but the other refused to let go and was too strong to get free from him. The next thing he knew, he was now being tossed around between the Savanaclaw students like a ball. They were laughing at his pain as they shoved and roughed him up a lot, pushing him to the ground. He winced, coughing and tried to look around for any other students that might be around to help him. But realizing how late in the evening it is, there was no one else around since everyone would normally be in their dorms right now.

Then suddenly he felt his legs pinned to the ground, something wrapped around and poking his legs as it hurt. He cried out when a foot was pushing down on his back and his hair being pulled by the one Savanaclaw student, their face next to his.

“We could stop, but this is more fun than we thought. Since you’re so smart being in Octavinelle, how about you agree to do our homework for the rest of the year? Then maybe we’ll let you go.”

“I’ll do it! Just please let me go!”

Sander begged, agreeing to it just so they would let him go, even if it did mean having to do all of their homework. But the student just laughed, pushing his face down to the ground as everyone else snickered. Then out of nowhere, he could hear screams come from them all and not feeling the foot on his back anymore, his legs free.

“Sander!”

He knew that familiar voice, wincing as he tried to sit up only to see Azul by his side, Jade and Floyd close by glaring down all the Savanaclaw students who were on the ground.

“Azul? How did you find me?”

Sander coughed, so thankful that Azul showed up and very surprised when the other was gently helping him up, putting his arm around his shoulder for support.

“I was wondering where you were since you hadn’t shown up at the dorm yet, so I went looking and heard what was happening. Jade, Floyd, take care of these idiots. I’ll be taking Sander back to his room,” Azul replied back before he called out to the twins. Jade and Floyd smiled, nodding as Azul started to carefully walk with Sander out of the area and to the Octavinelle dormitory.

They had arrived in his room as Azul gently laid him down on the bed, using his magical pen to cast a small healing spell over him. Sander felt as it helped, not nearly in as much pain as before, sighing in relief.

“Thank you so much Azul,” Sander had said, smiling and relaxing at the moment.

“Of course. You are part of Octavinelle and my most hardworking employee after all. I couldn’t just stand to let anyone from another dorm bully you. Don’t worry. Jade and Floyd will just knock some sense into them before reporting them to Crowley. They won’t be a problem for you anymore.”

Sander nodded back, glad to hear that Azul cared about him and his reassurance as his cheeks inadvertently turned red. He was very confused as Azul chuckled and then saw him bent over, gazing down into his eyes while cupping his cheek in his hand.

“Azul?”

It was all Sander could say, lost in Azul’s eyes before he suddenly felt the other’s lips come down onto his own. It was a shock to say the least, sparks between them and this passionate sensation overcoming Sander as the two kissed for a couple of minutes until he needed to get some air. Azul had pulled away when he realized it too, licking his lips and continuing to gaze down at the boy with a grin.

“Azul, do you-”

“Of course. When you told me that you wanted to work for and learn from me, I was so flattered. But as I watched you earnestly work harder than everyone else in your studies and in the Monstro Lounge, you became like a rare pearl found at the bottom of the ocean. I could not help but fall for you so much, but I was afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and it would ruin our relationship as students and as manager and employee. When I saw how those Savanaclaw students had hurt you, I could not hold back anymore. You also seem to feel the same way, judging from that kiss. Would you be mine?”

Sander blushed so red, hearing Azul’s confession and asking him to be his as he gave the biggest smile.

“Y-Yes, I definitely will! I was afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same way since I’m so ordinary and you could have anyone. Thank you!”

Sander brought his arms up and hugged Azul as he was crying now, so ecstatic at this moment with his feelings being returned and now his boyfriend. Azul smiled, hugging Sander back and giving a peck on the lips before pulling away and standing back up.

“I should be thanking you. Don’t think that of yourself, you are plenty extraordinary. Now get some rest. I’ll inform the teachers of your absence tomorrow and you don’t need to worry about working either. Just sleep and get better. I love you, Sander.”

“I love you too, Azul.”

Sander nodded, thrilled and surprised that Azul would get him excused from classes but knew that he should try to get better. He smiled, feeling tired as he waved bye to Azul before his eyes soon closed from how tired he was after the beating and then the rush of his first kiss wearing off now. Azul waited until Sander went to sleep, smirking as he left the room and headed out back to where he left Jade and Floyd.

He walked up to see all the Savanaclaw students beaten to a bloody pulp, Jade calmly standing there and Floyd just laughing with blood on both their knuckles. Azul walked right up to the one in charge earlier as he looked down at them with a glare. 

“You lot held up your end of the contract at least. But you went too far, I only told you to rough him up a little, not beat him that badly. How bold of you to try to get something out of him too, you deserve to have been punished like this. A deal is a deal, now run back to Savanaclaw with your tails between your legs before I change my mind and get you all expelled. I don’t ever want to see any of you near him again.”

The student just weakly nodded, the others all agreeing as they were getting back up and quickly making their way back to their dorm.

“I assume the plan worked then?”

Jade had asked as the three started to head back to the Octavinelle dormitory, the twins taking off their bloody gloves.

“Of course, he has feelings for me and took the bait. Now he is completely mine and it should not be long.”

Azul laughed as Jade shook his head.

“My, you truly are cruel and ruthless. Taking advantage of his innocent and pure love for you, it’s quite entertaining,” Jade commented with a smirk as Azul did not care.

“It’s because of his naive nature that I simply must know what secrets he could possibly have. In addition with how he is so honest and trustworthy, dating him will only make me appear more trustworthy. So it all works out for me in the end and him, letting him have some fun loving and being with me before I can get him in a contract. Love is simply give and take after all.”

Azul grinned evilly, thinking of how to keep Sander entranced with him and uncover everything about him. It will all be worth it.

[malereader-inserts]

Father Figure

Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader X Aziraphale Summary: They’re trying their best Word Count: 1,507 Request: “Hello! I really loved “to your days off” and I thought that it’d be really cute if the reader & ineffable husbands raised a kid together!!💛👼🏼😈👱‍♂️” A/n: You have a baby boy called Wesley because I don’t think it’s common and also people say it’s better when writers fill in the blanks of naming added characters

Wesley is possibly the most amazing thing that was to ever grace you.

Wesley was your baby boy, three years old and the most adorable child, though you are biased. He came about in a time you didn’t expect it really, you were positively not in a relationship three years ago with a girl, but you were curious and you forgot to use protection.

The mother of the child did not want to get rid of the baby and you stepped up, as any decent human being, to be the father. Unfortunately, the mother died during childbirth and you were left to be a single father - not you minded.

It’s just, made life a little harder, your sister helped here and there but it was mostly you and little baby Wesley. Then you started dating a demon and an angel, you don’t know how it came about but six months into the relationship, you didn’t want to question the second most amazing thing that was to ever grace you.

You had no secrets other than your child, you were terrified in all honesty. You were doing an astounding job as a single father but you were afraid your significant others would judge you. You made time for your son, for your boyfriends and your job. 

You made it work.

They found out when the pair was walking in St James Park, Aziraphale wanting to feed the ducks until they see you, crouching down by the little boy and feeding the ducks with seeds.

“Hello love!” Aziraphale greets, you freeze before looking up at the two looming figures.

“Hello you two,” You greeted, standing up at full height and kissing them on the cheek.

“Why do you have a child next to you,” Crowley asked, eyeing up the child, his nanny instinct begging to come out before looking at the duck and sinking it.

“Daddy!” Your boy shouts as you turn your attention to Wesley, who was pointing, “Duck!”

“Yes, Wesley,” You chuckled, ruffling your boy’s hair and kneeling by him again, “Crowley, can you not sink the ducks?”

The duck emerges as your son starts tapping you viciously and pointing at the duck, you laugh at your son as your boyfriends just stare at you, with heart-shaped eyes. You lifted up your son in your arms and turned to face your boyfriends.

“Wesley, baby, meet my boyfriends,” The boy turns to look at the blonde and the red hair men in front of him as you pointed who was who, “Aziraphale and Crowley.”

“Hello, Wesley!” Aziraphale greets happily, shaking the boy’s hand, as Crowley just stares.

“More daddies?” Your son says to you as he squishes your face with his small hands, causing you to brighten and nod, “Yay! Crow-whee!”

Your son motions grabby arms at the demon and within an instant, Crowley melts and comes to cuddle your son, who happily cuddles the demon’s head.

“Careful, he likes to tug hair,” You warned as you hear the hissing of your demon whilst your son tugs the red hair, “No, no, Wes don’t do that, sweetie.”

“You look exhausted, honey,” Crowley points out to you as he passes your son to the angel, who starts tickling his stomach, Crowley throws an arm over your shoulders and pull you close to him, allowing you to lean your head upon his shoulder.

“Yeah, Wesley was sick for a few days and he’s finally recovered so I haven’t had much sleep,” You sighed, shutting your eyes briefly, “Sorry about springing this upon you, you don’t have to be more daddies for Wes-”

“Nonsense!” Aziraphale says, knitting his eyebrows towards you, still holding the child, “You are our love and we’re willing to help! You do need a rest, my dear.”

“Come on,” Crowley says, leading the way back to the bookshop, “I’ve been dying to be a nanny again, Wesley is perfect.”

“Please don’t teach him something ridiculous!”

“What do you take me?”

“A mild annoyance, a demon,” You say flatly but softly kissing the jaw of the demon, “You might have been the nanny for Warlock but Wes is-”

“Wesley is a spitting image of you and the only thing I would like to do is help raise him to be like his father,” Crowley interrupts as he opens the door of the bookshop, you soften as you smile gratefully at the demon.

Whilst you fell asleep on the sofa in the back room of the bookshop, the angel and demon kept your son entertained. Whilst you snooze soundly, Crowley’s Nanny Ashtoreth was ready to come out, your son was delighted.

“What do kids like to eat?” Crowley asked, not a demon who likes to eat and looks at his boyfriend.

“Healthy or not?” Aziraphale asked, thinking of an assortment of food, “Never mind, us two will go to the shops and let him pick out food for himself.”

The three headed out to the car, leaving you in the back knowing you’re out cold and probably won’t be awake for a few more hours. Crowley had to restrain himself from buying everything in the store for Wesley, who giggles every time he gets a glimpse of Crowley’s eyes.

“Sweets!” Wesley exclaims loudly in Crowley’s arms, “Sweets!”

“Uh, no dearie,” Aziraphale says softly, whilst he was buying food, he did not want to feed your child bad stuff.

“Sweets!”

“Wesley,” Crowley warns, this time using a stricter tone, “Daddy wouldn’t be happy if we fed you sweets.”

The boy pouted, his bottom lips quivering as he burst into tears whilst the two supernatural entities started to panic. Crowley passing the child into Aziraphale’s arms, trying to hush Wesley. Then, it got out of hand, Wesley started to hit Aziraphale and wailing, making other shoppers to look at them. 

“Take him to the car, Angel, I’ll deal with thisss,” Crowley involuntarily hisses causing the toddler to wail even louder.

The Angel moved quickly to the car, sitting the bleary eye kid on his lap, “Oh dear, what is it, Wesley? What do you want?” The Angel said so softly, that the kid looked at him with wide eyes.

“I want daddy!” The child cried, eyes tearing up once again and letting out a screech of a cry.

The angel grimaces as he started to bounce his leg, hoping the movement would cause the child to stop crying. When Crowley returns, disgruntle, looking at the child he sighs.

“Sing to him!” Crowley says, “All I have was that lullaby for Warlock and I don’t want to be on the bad side of (Y/n).”

“Just get the car moving!” Aziraphale says, holding the child closer to him and softly humming whilst the toddler kept wailing.

The two was starting to get a headache and that was impossible for the two, almost impossible, even Queen wasn’t able to calm the child down. Wesley kept crying as they enter the bookshop, Crowley now holding the child as Aziraphale was holding shopping bags.

“Sh, Wesley, you’ll wake up daddy...”

“‘m already awake,” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes, “Hey, baby.”

You swiftly take Wesley away from Crowley, who looked upset that he failed to keep you asleep as Aziraphale looked defeated. You wiped the tears away from your son’s cheeks, your son calming down upon seeing you.

“Alright bud,” You say, smiling brightly despite being tired, “Looks like you’re super tired, is that why you’ve been crying? Nap time?”

“Nap time!” Crowley exclaimed to Aziraphale as if the most obvious thing in the world, “Nap fu-”

“Crowley, children ears!” Aziraphale scowled as you sighed, humming ‘Love of My Life’ to Wesley.

The child placed his head upon your shoulder, holding you tight as you sway through the bookshop, the two watches you, the natural parental instinct kicking in and Aziraphale softly smiling thinking how soft the scene is whilst Crowley was having a mini tantrum that he couldn’t figure out Nap time.

“Are you done? I have one child, not three,” You say with sass as you go put Wesley on the sofa in the backroom as Crowley snorted whilst Aziraphale gasped, offended, “And I say that with the goodness of my heart.”

“Rude,” Aziraphale bellows as you emerge from the back, shushing him as he reddens, “I’m sorry dear, we couldn’t help you that well.”

“It’s fine, it’s just one-time thing, you’ll get the hang of it,” You shrugged, yawning, “Well, taking care of a child instinct will come back to you, I did hear you help raised Warlock.”

“Well,” Crowley shrugged his shoulders, “I’m sure Wesley won’t be as bad as Warlock.”

You sneezed and groaned, “Oh, yeah, I might be on the bench for a while, looks like my kid’s given me his sickness.”

“Oh, I’ll get you tea!” Aziraphale claims, bustling through his shop as you looked at Crowley.

“Ready to be a dad?”

“Not really, Nanny yes, Daddy no,” You patted him on the shoulder, kissing his cheek, and smiling.

“No one really is ever ready to be a parent.”

[huntertales]

Part One: Life Isn’t A Book. (Slumber Party S09E04)

Episode Summary: The reader and the boys call in I.T. expert Charlie Bradbury to help track fallen angels with technology found in the Men of Letters bunker. However, they soon discover something more in the form of the one and only Dorothy from Wizard of Oz. Everyone joins forces to take down the Wicked Witch and her evil plans. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader  Word Count: 4,038.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Like any other day when you weren’t working on a case, you sat in the war room with your laptop wide open and several files you grabbed from the archives spread around you. For the past hour you had been diligently working on a project while Dean left early this morning on a trip with Kevin. It had been just you and Sam in the bunker ever since, however you noticed he disappeared a few minutes ago without a verbal reason. You didn't think much of it before going back to your work, reading up on a file that you thought might have been the thing you were looking for. Before you could get a definite answer, you found your gaze lifting up from the paper and to what was in front of you after you heard approaching footsteps.

You raised your brow slightly in curiosity at what you saw the younger Winchester holding. It was a piece of blank paper and a black crayon. What he could have possibly needed it for, how or he even got a crayon in the first place, made you chuckle to yourself in amusement and catch the man’s attention. Sam stopped at the table and gave you a slightly confused expression as to what was so funny to you. 

“Are you off to draw me a pretty picture, Sammy?” You cracked a joke with the man. He lifted up the hand that was holding the black crayon in one hand, the blank paper in the other when he figured out that’s what you were focusing on. “What’s with the arts and crafts?”

"I'm gonna go talk to Crowley. See if he's willing to give us anymore names." Sam said. It sounded good in theory, but the younger man's plan made you lean back in the rolling seat and give him a hesitant look. "And obviously it'd be stupid to give him something that he could hurt us with, so...I improvised." 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” You wondered. “I mean, the only reason why Crowley gave us names in the first place was because Kevin beat the crap out of him. That’s the equivalent of getting off to a demon like him.” 

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll throw us a bone.” Sam said. He could see the confliction in your initial plan of how you wanted things to go. You wanted to let the demon sit in his own personal thoughts in the dungeon for long as you could, using what he had confessed back at the church to your own advantage. You wanted to push him to the point where he was almost desperate for any kind of interaction he would sing off every name he had up in that up in that brain. “What’s the worst thing that could happen? He gives us some side remarks?”

You quietly tapped your pen against the notepad you had next to you and bit your bottom lip. After a few seconds of deliberating you dropped your pen down to the table. Sam was right. There wasn't much you had to lose. The both of you headed down to the dungeon where Crowley had been sitting down by his lonesome for the past several days in complete darkness. Sam moved the shelves that were the makeshift doors to the secret room, the demon was blinded by the lights you turned on to see your way around without stumbling. You made your way inside first, greeting the demon with a smile as his eyes adjusted to the brightness he wasn't used to seeing.

"Hello, Kitten. Moose." Crowley welcomed you with the usual nicknames. Sam walked over to the table you provided for him and set the piece of paper and crayon down. The demon stared at the materials for a moment before back up to you. An amused look crossed his face at what you were asking from him. "You want more demon names." He suspected the reason why you were here in the first place after days of abandonment. The demon reached over and grabbed the piece of paper, only to crumple it up into a ball. "I want a room with a view." 

You and Sam exchanged a glance from the demon's demands you were expecting to hear at some point. Crowley thought you were desperate enough to give into any sort of his personal whims, or you were going to entertain a conversation with him. You felt a smirk spread to the ends of your lips, Sam chuckled in amusement. You followed behind the younger man when he began to make his way out, showing Crowley what you were going to do until he cooperated. You hoped something like solitary confinement would work on someone like Crowley, who found torture and threats nothing but something to do on a Friday night. So, you were going to do the opposite to him. No human contact. No entertainment. Nothing.

You didn't say goodbye to the demon before you made your way to the door and flicked off the lights, engulfing the room into darkness once more. The demon sank down into his seat when he heard the door slam shut, leaving him alone once more for who knows how long. 

You and Sam went back to work for a little while after giving Crowley some time to think about his limited options that he had left to participate. Sam sat across from you as he skimmed through some files you found in the archives you hoped might have been helpful for the project you had been working on all morning. The sight was no surprise to see when Dean arrived back from his trip. You looked up to see your boyfriend standing on top of the staircase after announcing his safe arrival back from the squeaky hinges of the metal door. 

"Hey." Sam greeted his brother, looking up from the case file after finishing up a sentence he was reading. "How'd it go with Kevin?"

Dean let out a sigh from the strange car ride he endured on his way to Missouri. "Oh, that little nerd is in a lovely warded motel room in Branson. He's got about forty-eight hours of pay-per-porn and Kenny Rogers ahead of him."

"How's he feeling?" You asked, curious to see how the kid was handling himself after being granted a much needed vacation a few states away from his problems. 

"Well, he stared at the angel tablet and repeated the word 'falafel' for the entire ride. Kid's cracked. I'm hoping this break will clear his head." Dean gave a small update on the prophet, making you start to worry about his dwindling mental state. Ever since you heard about his attempt at flying the coop you had been trying to keep an extra eye on him. Everyone was on high alert. You were stressed out of your mind, and it seemed Dean could sense all of you needed to pump the breaks. "You know, after everything that happened, I figured we could use a little break ourselves." 

"Really?" You asked, the tone of your voice shifting into pleasant sounding from what he was suggesting. "What were you thinking?"

"I picked you two up season one of 'Game of Thrones.'" Dean opened up the plastic bag from a store he stopped by on his way home and read off the title of the DVD he bought. "Figured we'd get a little takeout." 

"All right. Before we embark on a ten episode binge," You changed the subject to the project you had been working on during his absence away. "I think Sam and I might have found a way to help Cas." 

Dean glanced up from the details he was reading about on the back of the DVD and to you, suddenly appearing to be concerned. "Did you talk to him?"

"No. And by the way, I still don't understand why he left in the first place. I mean, the bunker is the safest place for him." You said. The reason Cas had given you before bolting still made you scratch your head. He was all for getting himself settled in here, and the next he was out the door without a proper goodbye. None of it made sense to you. "Bartholomew and who knows how many other angels are out there, gunning for him." 

"Hey, look, nobody wants him here more than I do, okay? But he felt like he'd bring trouble down on us, so he had to split." Dean's excuse made you look at him with slight disbelief. It sounded phony to you. You had faced plenty of danger in your lifetime and caused trouble with the wrong kinds of people. You could handle some angels, Dean didn't entertain your opinion for long as he threw his jacket to the table after taking it off. "But if you got a way to help him, I'm all ears."

"All right. So, Kevin said the table lit up like a Christmas tree when the angels fell, right?" You summarized the details about what happened that night. Dean nodded his head, seeming to be on the same page as you as you continued on with your theory. "So it turns out each light was where a cluster of angels fell. So I'm thinking maybe there's some way to hot-wire this, make it track angels. That way, we could help Cas steer clear of danger."

"This was...both of your ideas?" Dean looked between you and his brother, acting as if there was a third person here you were trying to steal the credit from out under them. 

You glanced around the room, your lips stretching into a small smile from how he was acting all of a sudden. "Actually, it was mine. Sam's been helping me out." You explained better to him. He looked over to his brother, as if he didn't believe you. "Do you see anyone else in here, Dean? Sometimes I do come up with good ideas."

"That wasn't what I..." Dean stopped talking when he saw you lean back in your seat, wondering exactly what he was going to say. He veered the conversation to where it belonged before he could get any more of his foot into his mouth. "So, how would it work?"

"Oh, no idea. See, at first, we thought the table was the computer, but it's not. It turns out it's just part of it. But Y/N found these cables underneath and we followed them." Sam told his brother the details you and him found extraordinary from the things you were learning about the place. Along with a history lesson on technology dated well over seventy years ago. Sam leaned out of his seat and pointed a finger to a set of red wires that disappeared into an air vent and broke out into a smile. "You're never gonna believe what we found."

The three of you headed to a part of the bunker you hadn't been to before yet. You discovered almost every chance you got. Over the months you had lived here you didn't have much time to go digging around the place, however you were given the perfect opportunity to discover what you guessed was the electrical room, filled with all sorts of different machines you had no clue did what just yet. The sight for someone like you and Sam put you at awe from the history that was under your nose. All around you was electric panels with the center of the room taken over by a dated machine with too many buttons and red lights you had been trying to figure out what they did.

"Volia." You gestured an arm to the scenery around you, stepping deeper inside the room with the boys following behind. 

"This is a computer?" Dean asked. He examined the outdated technology for a moment, still not exactly sure what he was looking at. 

"Yeah—or it was in 1951, when it was first installed. Now, here's the crazy thing. It's not plugged into anything. I mean, Y/N and I tried to figure it out." Sam said. You could hear the fascination in his voice, same as how he was when you discovered the room for yourself and showed him. "We have no idea what's making this thing work." 

Dean walked over to the back of the computer to take a better look at the thing you were working with. He placed his hand out and pressed it against the machine, his brow raised slightly when he felt warmth against his skin. It meant the thing was still working after these years, and even after the map went off. "It's warm here."

Dean found what appeared to be a flat screwdriver sitting on a nearby shelf that looked like it would be good enough to help him rip off the back panel and inspect the machine from the inside. He shoved the tool between a small crack and then began to slowly put pressure on the screwdriver, trying to jimmy the piece of metal free. When he noticed how much resistance he was getting, Dean put all of his strength into trying to get the thing to go free. He ended up stumbling back after the panel popped off and dropped to the ground with a noisy bang. He accidentally hit the shelf right behind him, and while the contents slightly shook, nothing fell. Dean pushed himself back up to a standing position, trying to pretend like nothing happened.

"Got it." He said. 

"Ya think?" You muttered. You crouched down and inspected the inside of the computer you hoped you might be able to understand if you got a peek inside. You quickly realized you had no idea what you were looking at. Sam pulled out a small flashlight from his back pocket to help give all of you a better look at what you were working with. "Huh. This isn't exactly what I was expecting."

"Well, that looks simple." Dean noted, sarcasm clear in his tone. "Does it come with a manual?"

"Nothing in the archives, and Y/N obviously couldn't find anything like it online," Sam said, telling his brother about the bump in the road you had been faced with. The both of you were pretty tech savvy. But even for you this was near impossible to figure out. "Not to mention I'm pretty sure that the Men of Letters doesn't have I.T. support anymore, either." 

"I think I know somebody who could help us." Dean said. "Come on." 

You and the boys headed out of the room and flipped off the lights, making your way back to the main area of the bunker to make a call to a friend you hadn't seen in a few months. However you didn't realize when Dean stumbled into the shelf there was something hiding back there in a clear glass jar. A pale grey goo that held something sinister for over seventy years. What you unleashed was something almost out of a book. 

+ + +

A little later into the day was when Charlie Bradbury, your favorite LARPer and tech genius, arrived in Lebanon safely after you gave her a call about the trouble you were facing. And only someone like her could come to your rescue. You didn’t realize she had arrived, distracted by Dean when he surprised you with a cup of coffee after he put a fresh pot on. And exactly the way how you liked it. You smiled in appreciation and mumbled a thank you, sneaking a quick kiss when he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, thinking you had a minute before a certain some made her arrival. 

“Hey. Get a room you two.” The both of you broke away and looked up to see Charlie was here, Sam following behind as they made their way down the stairs. “There’s my favorite lovebirds.”

“And there’s my favorite redhead.” You joked back with her. You placed down your cup to the table and got up from your seat to welcome her, pulling the young woman into a tight hug after Dean greeted her first. "Thanks for coming on such short notice. Sam and I tried figuring it ourselves, but we're stumped. Dean thought our favorite I.T. tech would be able to come to our rescue." 

"Not a problem." Charlie gave you a smile of appreciation when you thought of her. You watched as it faded away when she finished her sentence, dropping a bit of bad news you weren't expecting to hear. "especially since I got fired last week." 

"Hey, what?" Sam was surprised at hearing this. He placed her overnight bag down on the table next to him. "What happened?"

"Turns out the company I work for was outsourcing to child labor, so I took a big Wikileak all over that." Charlie was a fighter behind the screen. While it wasn't technically legal, you couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips after hearing what she had done, adding a playful wink of approval. "And, yeah. It's cool, though. It's given me more time to focus on my hobbies...like larping, macrame," she listed off a few of her favorite things you learned she liked from the first time you formally met her months back. She tried slipping one more in, hoping you and the boys wouldn't notice. “...And hunting.” 

"Excuse me?" You were taken off guard by hearing what she had been doing in her free time. Part of you wanted to be disappointed at the danger she was putting herself in. Someone like you, who had been doing this for almost a decade, knew the mental toll that took on you after a while after you glossed over the dangers of cutting your life short. But Charlie was here in one piece, and her bubbly self. Dean was alarmed and Sam appeared to be taken back at her step towards the lifestyle.

"Okay. It was a couple of little cases. I took down a teenage vampire and a ghost." She tried to explain herself while you and Dean stared at her with a scolding expression that reminded her of her parents. You had your brow raised like how her mother used to while Dean stood behind you with his hands on his hips. The disapproval was written all over your face. You wanted better things for her. But you couldn’t deny the temptation of the lifestyle. "Which sounds like a Y.A. novel if you say it out loud." 

"Charlie," Sam spoke the young woman's name, breaking her concentration away from your face and over to him. All of you were more concerned at how she was handling herself after getting a taste of danger by herself. "How'd it go?"

"It was, uh...it was intense. But I kind of wish hunting was more...magical, you know?" You let out a heavy sigh as Dean rolled his eyes from the young woman's perception of how she thought hunting was always going to be. She realized you weren’t amused as you were, causing her smile to fade away and focus on the reason why she was here in the first place. “Nevermind. So, where is this commodore sixty-four of yours?”

All of you headed down to the electrical room where you showed her the piece of machinery she would be working with. You weren’t sure if she was going to be able figure out something like this considering how dated it was. When she caught sight of the computer, Charlie’s face lit up like a kid in a candy store, she rushed over to inspect the beauty for herself. You and the boys watched as she took a minute to inspect what she could to get a better understanding of what you were about to ask of her. She crouched down to the ground to inspect the inner workings as you leaned over every so often when you heard her mumble something underneath her breath. ‘

“Sweet Ada Lovelace. This thing belongs in a museum. I mean, it’s got encryption software. It seems to be powered by something magical.” Charlie listed off a few of the things she figured out on her own after taking a peek around at the inner workings. Dean was fascinated as much as he could, but he pushed her along to the end, wanting to know what it really did. “It’s kind of an alarm system. Global badness? It freaks. This computer is what locked this place down.”

“Can we use it to track angels?” Sam asked.

You knew what you were asking from her was a lot from such dated technology. Charlie thought about the task for a second or two before she decided the challenge was something she was up to. She cracked her knuckles and grew a smirk. "All right. Let me see what I can do.”

Charlie worked her magic and figured out a system that would work. You and the boys watched as she tinkered with the insides for a little while and pulled out some wires and pulled in a few cords into an outlet. Soon enough she grabbed her tablet and began to tap the screen, finishing the final task. “All right. It took some doing, but now we can download. This beast has all the Men of Letters files. Time for a little drag-and-drop.” 

“Wow. It’s a start. Thank you. That’s great.” You were very much thankful for the hard work she had put in. While you were grateful, there was something else you and the boys wanted to try and discuss now that you had a minute free. Dean urged you to get the ball rolling when he gently nudged you in the side with his elbow. “So, you’ve been hunting. Alone.” 

“I know. Not a good idea, according to the ‘Supernatural’ books.” Charlie rolled her eyes from her amature moves that she should’ve known better after reading all the series, treating them as if they were a guide. You grimaced at the mention of those things you tried to avoid much as possible.

“You really can’t delete those from the internet?” Sam couldn’t help himself but ask, making you give him a slightly confused look. He seriously thought those things were still underground with no popularity to attract mainstream attention. Everything was digital these days. And so were those books. No matter what, they were going to haunt you forever.

“Not even I can do that.” Charlie said. “Come on.” 

“Where do you even find them?” Dean asked. 

“A top secret place I call Amazon.” You replied back to the man. While your tone of voice was serious, the sarcasm was clear enough for him to give you an amused expression. “Seriously. Get used to it. They’re gonna be in our lives forever.”

“And someone uploaded all the unpublished works.” Charlie added on to the disaster. You let out a frustrated sigh at the mention of the tale that went on farther than the finale where you and Dean died and went to hell. You would have been fine with that. For a moment you thought it might have been Chuck who uploaded his own work, but the culvert who did it was someone close to him. And was the biggest fan of it all. “I thought it was fanfic at first, but it was clearly Edlund’s work. Their screen name was BeckyWinchester176. Ring any bells?”

“None. Uh, nobody’s. Uh, no, there are no bells. Uh...no.” Sam stumbled his way to an answer. You tried your hardest to keep a smile from going when you saw him become flustered at the mention of someone who had been obsessed with him. Dean stared at his brother, slowly shaking his head from his behavior. 

“Ugh, these files are encrypted. This is gonna take a while.” Charlie said. While she was going to be here for longer than intended, she decided to make use of the time by having a little fun. “So, takeout, sleepover, braid each other’s hair?”

Sam suddenly got hit with a plan that everyone would enjoy. “I got an idea.”

[Next Part]

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