#btw drawing this with cold stiff fingers was. a challenge

[mspaint-flower]

REQS OPEN HI BESTIE could we have.....a nicole nilfruits....for the soul.....

me when the hungry is nicole

[myinconnelly1]

Not the Man I Know

Square Filled: Mind Control (kink)

Square filled: Damsel in Distress Ship: Michael!Dean x Myin;  Dean x Myin; Sam x Myin (Mentioned) Rating : Explicit Warnings: 18+ NSFW,  non!con; Dub!con; rape; angel Mind control; Grace abuse; reference Cheating, canon violence, canon gore Request: Hey, Uhm for your request: Maybe Mind control with Lucifer and/or Michael? Like they walk in to the reader getting dressed or showering and they try to have fun with her and mind control her into having hard sex with them?

AN:  This was everything that I hoped for and more.  I also used @impala-dreamer​ ‘s make me feel it challenge with the song Uninvited (fucking awesome song btw) Word Count: 2,021 Created for @spnkinkbingo. @spndarkbingo​

“How did you find me?”  Myin asked staring up at Dean’s face.

The pain in Myin’s shoulder was starting to fade as cold lightheadedness started to replace it.  She could feel her blood thrumming throughout her body and spots black out some of her vision.  Her breath was coming in gasps as she ran, knowing that trying to outrun the fit hunter was not a likely outcome.  She was going to need a back-up plan, assuming she didn’t just collapse.

“Please, that pathetic waste of space that this vessel calls a brother has been tracking your location.”  Dean’s voice was stiff and hard as he talked down on Myin.  Her body froze as recognition illuminated her face.  Michael.

“Myin!”  Dean was shouting her name from somewhere behind her in the forest.  She couldn’t spot, shouldn’t stop.  But she was getting tired.  There was no way that Michael had released his hold on Dean.  She knew this in her head.  Even if she had seen the familiar look in Dean’s face when she had cast her spell on him.  “Please, stop running.”

“What do you want?”  Myin’s hand reached for blindly for her gun, concealed behind the door.

“You know what I’m here for,”  Michael sneered, the expression so wrong on Dean’s face.  Her eyes widened then her fingers tightened around the grip of her pistol.

Myin fell face first into the dirt of the woods.  Exhaustion and loss of blood were taking her over.  She didn’t have much energy left, and Michael was probably right around the corner.  The spell had been accidental.  All these years with the Winchester brothers and she had stopped practicing what her father had taught her.  She was just glad she’d had the foresight to send her kids away while she was in hiding.  They wouldn’t be safe with her, not yet.  Her eyes closed, and her head turned limply against the cool earth.

Michael slammed the front door into her chest, sending her flying across the room and the gun flung back against her shoulder going off.  Myin screamed with agony as the nine millimeter round pierced cleanly through her shoulder.  You regained her awareness as Dean’s hand’s, Michael’s hand’s, gripped her arms and moved her to a kneeling position.

“You will give me what I want,”  He growled an inch from her face.  Her body quivered in fear and shock.  “I even chose to stay in this guise for you.” 

Myin hadn’t really given it any thought, but she noted now that Michael was wearing Dean’s clothes.  His flannel and jeans, as opposed to Michael’s more dandy suit and cap.

“Did you think it would impress me?”  She all but spat in his face.

“No, sweetheart,”  He fumbled with the word as if it was unfamiliar.  “That is what this pretty face would’ve called you right?  No I wore this in the hopes that you would be more receptive to my request.”

Myin stared at him numbly.  She knew what he wanted.  And she knew that she could never give it to him.  She could never betray her friends like that.  Sam especially.  She was here in hiding to keep Sam safe.

“Never,”  She growled.

“I guess I had expected you to say that,”  Michael closed the space between them and kissed her unceremoniously.  She was so stunned that she hadn’t been ready when he bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Ow!” She cried as she pulled away as much as she could.

“Hm, I still don’t understand what these brothers see in you,”  He mused licking the blood on his lips.

“Myin?  Myin, wake up!”  Dean said as he shook her limp form gently.  She roused enough for panic to cross her face momentarily.  ‘No, no, no, no.  It’s okay, sweetheart.  I’m gonna save you.” 

Myin noted the tightness of bandaging on her shoulder where the gunshot wound was.  He had managed to stop her from bleeding out completely.  That didn’t seem like something that Michael would have done until after he had gotten what he wanted from her, unless she was going to die.  And while she felt pretty terrible, she didn’t think that she was that close to death’s door.

“Dean?  How?”  Myin muttered in confusion.

“You, I think whatever you did, send him away.  It brought me out,”  He was staring at her, concern etched his face.  “I think I did something horrible.  I think I killed Sam.”

Myin stared at Dean in disbelief.

“What?!”  Tears fell down her face as she thought about it.  It made sense that Michael would want Sam dead.  He was in the way, constantly causing issues for him using Dean.  And he stood between Michael and Myin.

“God, Myin.  What have I become?”  Dean looked down at his hands, which were shaking.

“It’s not your fault.  Michael was controlling you,”  She grabbed his hands.  “You can’t blame yourself.”

“But you do,”  Dean whispered.  “There is no way that you can prove to me otherwise.”

Myin didn’t hesitate.  She reached out and took Dean’s face in her hands, kissing him deeply.  It wasn’t the first time they had kissed, but Dean’s entire demeanor changed regardless.

“Neither of them recovered after what happened when Dean came back from Hell, you know?”  

Michael sounded like he was going into a long prepared speech.

“What?” Myin asked shock registering on her face briefly.

“Sam said he understood why you went to his brother, he could never blame you.  After all he was with Ruby.  But he never did forgive you.  And as for Dean, well let’s just say that I can still feel his love for you.  It hasn’t gone away, it wasn’t a one time thing,”  Michael’s voice dripped with malice.

“You don’t know what your talking about.  You have no idea what love feels like!”  She did spit in his face this time, unable to control her rage.

Michael loosed his grip on her injured shoulder and smacked her cheek with his open hand.

“Enough, you will agree to give me what I want,”  He squeezed her arm.

A light bulb went off in her mind.  He needed her permission.  Just like any angel, he needed permission to be inside her.  Even if it wasn’t possession.

“No,”  She grimaced with resolve.

Michael’s hand moved back to her injury.  And he pressed his thumb against the wound.  Myin’s eyes rolled up in her head in pain.

“Say yes.”  He growled, his lips practically against hers.

“Never.”  She barely finished getting the word out, before Michael crushed his fist around her wound.

Myin gasped, shuddered, clenched her teeth.  She refused to scream for his pleasure.

“Give in!”  Michael shouted, the wet of his lips on hers.  She panted as he clutched her harder.

“DEAN!!”  Energy surged through her body, knocking Michael away from her and sending all the items nearby to explode away from her in a wave.  Myin stood as well as she could, and bolted for the door, running for the woods.

Dean kissed her back fiercely, with a groan.

“Michael was right,”  He pulled away from her slightly and leaned his head against hers.  “I still want you.”

A last tear trickled down Myin’s cheek, before Dean eased her onto her knees and crouched behind her.  He kissed her neck, and her uninjured shoulder, as he pulled her pants and panties down.  Two of his fingers pressed into her eagerly as she heard his other hand fiddle with his belt and zipper.

Warmth permeated her skin, it wasn’t a familiar sensation, but Myin enjoyed it nonetheless.  She breathed deeply, as his fingers stroked her damp center, then he removed his fingers and she felt his cock pressed against her cunt.

“Let me in?”  Dean asked quietly.  Myin was caught off guard by the question, normally Dean didn’t stand on so much ceremony.

“Dean I want you.”  She whispered, wiggling her hips slightly.  The pain in her shoulder had ebb significantly and she felt stronger, but also almost drunk in the way that her ears and cheeks were warm.

“I need to hear you say it.  Say you want me inside of you,”  Dean’s voice was strained, with restraint Myin was sure.  Still something about this was bothering her.  Expect she felt so good, she didn’t want to be without him.

“Yes, I want,”   She gasped at the squeeze Dean gave her hip.  “I want you inside of me.”

Dean pressed into her at an agonizingly slow pace, until she felt his hips press against her backside.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,”  Dean’s voice was definitely not right, Myin realized as her head started to clear.  “I finally win.”

Michael.

He pulled out to the tip before slamming back into her completely.  Myin almost screamed in the sudden fullness.  She was screwed, but literally and figuratively.  The warmth that had been suffusing her body focused in her mind as the blue-white glow of Michael’s grace filled her being.

Myin had never felt so full in her life.  She felt stretched past her limits and tears fell from her cheeks again.  She realized Michael had healed her body to prepare for the onslaught of thrusts that he was now giving her.  Dean’s cock in her cunt slipping in her natural juices.

How had she been such a fool.  She should have known it was a trick.  He had told her that he needed her to make a child.  She assumed it was the only way that he felt he could defeat Jack.  

All she had to do was remain abstinent until Michael was gone.

She began to pant as her orgasm built slowly.  She didn’t want to cum because of Michael, even if it was Dean’s cock.  His use of the man’s anatomy was poor in comparison to Dean, but it was still good enough.

“Dean wants you to cum on his cock,”  Michael growled at your ear.  “He wants it even though he knows he isn’t in control of his body.  You humans are disgusting with all your bodily fluids and functions,”  Michael smacked her ass, in an almost Dean like fashion.  “Needing to get this man’s body inside of you to get what I need,”  He choked like he almost enjoyed it.

“If it’s so,”  Myin gasped as his hips missed the beat.  “So horrible, why do it?”

“Want you too much,”  Myin almost surfaced.  That was Dean’s voice, not Michael.

“Dean?”  She asked, hopeful.

“I’ve got you sweetheart,”  Dean reached a hand around and started to rub her clit.  “I think I beat him.”

“You,”  She sighed in pleasure as her orgasm started to crest.  “You have to pull out.”

Myin fell over the edge in orgasm.  Dean stuttered and started to pull out, but the grip of his hand on her hips redoubled and she knew Michael took over as he sunk his cock into her deeply.

“Just needed a little help figuring this body out,”  Michael’s lip curled as he held her against him.

“Hey!”  Sam’s voice echoed from somewhere behind Myin, and a sob of relief and guilt escaped her mouth as Michael dropped her onto her hands and knees.

“You’re too late.  I’ve got what I came for.”  And with that Michael left in a flutter of wings.  Myin fell to her belly in the dirt sobbing for the emotional abuse she suffered at the Angel’s hand, and for the betrayal of Sam’s love.  He would never understand, and she didn’t even know if she wanted to explain it to him.

Sam’s big hand found her body and she flinched slightly.  He pulled her clothes up gently then pulled her up into his lap to console her.

“Sam,  I’m so,”  Myin trailed off, not feeling the words she knew she needed to tell him.

“It’s okay.  I know,”  Sam rubbed his beard against the top of her head.  “You don’t need to be sorry for something that was out of your control.”

Myin couldn’t manage the strength to tell him that despite the horror of the situation, she had wanted Dean anyway.

@waywardbaby​ @destielhoneybee​ @snffbeebee​ @deangirl7695​ @spnbaby-67​ @maddiepants​ @tabrown2021​ @ladywinchester1967​ @woodworthti666​ @miraclesoflove​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @emilyshurley​ @akshi8278​ @mannls​ @wendibird​ @bobasheebaby​ @flamencodiva​ @theoneandonlymelol​ @chelsea072498​ @donnaintx​ @justsomedreaming​ @supernaturalenchanted​ @supersassyprobablysad​

[deathfrisbeeinthetardis]

I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

Summary

When Detective Shane Madej got the briefing, his blood ran cold. He needed to tell Goldsworth, he owed the man that much.

Notes:

So the original idea came from me wanting to read/write angry Shane because of the 'Goddamn it' he says in the Pennhurst Asylum Post mortem at 11:08, but with more you know, genuine anger. Then the whole situation came to me after reading Waiting for the Sunlight by @ebonybow (which is amazing btw, if you read my stuff you've got to check out theirs, it's about a million times better)

This fic is absolutely self-indulgence so that I don't have to write another chapter for, um, other stories that I have started, soooo, I hope ya'll like this!

Read below or find it on Ao3!

The tall man was let into Ricky's office half a minute after he approached the basement hatch concealing the entrance to Goldsworth's empire. His composure was veiled for those outside the door, but his shoulders were so stiff from the tension that he almost shook with it. Pushing back his rain-soaked hood, he scanned the simply furnished room to find the boss lounging in the armchair, a book in his hands and dressed in black as per usual.

           'Mr. Goldsworth," he said. It never hurt to start formal, they always manage to work back to their own peculiar brand of familiarity with a bit of time.

           "Detective Madej, a bit on edge, are we?" The smaller man gives him a sly smile that wasn't entirely devoid of warmth, eyes flicking up from the heavy tome to look him over. It had been a while since they last spoke face to face, out of the necessity of course. There have been… complications.

           "They know," Shane said tightly and feels a sort of grim satisfaction as Goldsworth sits up in the armchair, eyes widening slightly at the news. It was why he had rushed from the office as soon as he could sneak out of the meeting without drawing attention. If the situation wasn't dealt with, the consequences could doom them all.

           "How much do they think they have?" He sounded so damn calm.

           "They have your name, your real name, Goldsworth." Shane bit out, "You're a smart man, you know where they will go looking next."

           Goldsworth scoffed, standing in a fluid motion to walk over to the plain wooden desk, laying a hand on a faint raised line on the surface. To an outside eye, it would be just a casual stance, but Shane knew of the thin sharp dagger concealed in the unassuming wood, Goldsworth could have the blade at Shane's throat in a second, but the taller man didn't back down, gaze fixed on the downturned face of the boss.

           "And where, might I ask, did they find out that piece of information? Not many know it." Goldsworth was looking at him now, eyes sharp and piercing. Shane only met his stare with one equal in intensity.

           "It's not important. We--" he cut himself off when Goldworth's eyes glinted dangerously. Now isn't the time to argue about what they had between them, the safety of Goldsworth's people took priority. "You need to take measures to protect them, get them out of town, hell, out of the country even, with how much of the force is being put to track them down."

           "Who leads the mission."

           'I can't tell you that." Shane swallowed, determined not to look at Goldsworth's hand on the desk. He needed the man to listen to him and exhibiting fear or anxiety is not what the situation needs.

           "It's Ilnyckyj isn't it?" Shane's face must have shown enough to confirm his guess, as much as he tried to maintain his mask, and Goldsworth laughed dryly, eyes sharp under the dim light of the room, "Of course it is, only using the best to hunt the worst eh?"

           "Don't." Shane's voice was low, a little more control slipping away and a little desperation sneaking in as he walked the two strides it took to stand opposite Goldsworth at the desk. "Andrew is a good man, he's only following orders. He doesn't deserve that."

           "And my family does? You know full well what measures they take to hunt down people like me, you've led them." There was venom in every word, raining down onto Shane's battered conscience like knives. How much of what he has done in the name of the King can he really brush off with the excuse of just following orders? He didn't know anymore.

           Shane pressed his hands on the desk with as much force as he dared, not for what Ryan might do, but for fear that the walls may be listening. "God damn it, Ryan." He hissed, dropping the name down to a whisper, and Goldsworth flinched as if Shane had struck him. "This goes beyond you and me, it's not a game anymore between you and the crown. They will do anything to find you."

           "And are you going to help them?" Goldsworth's voice was steady, but there was unease in his eyes. It had taken a chance encounter, half a dozen clashes and months and months before he had dared to risk trusting a man in the crown's employ, and Shane knew the danger the situation put both of them in, knew it in the twisting knife in his heart where Sara had been.

           "I would never--how could you think that?" Disbelief coated his words, but was he really surprised? Like the man said moments ago, there were only that many people who had been given the privilege of knowing who the infamous Ricky Goldsworth really was, each tested and challenged to hell and back before they earned the boss’s trust. It was easier to suspect him than to think that any of them would betray him, Shane was right here.

But the hurt lingered just the same.

"I know how to hold my tongue too, Goldsworth." He had had to learn how.

           The hand Goldsworth had on the desk was showing white on the scarred knuckles where he had drawn out the slim blade, and fuck it, this was the last time they would likely see each other ever again, so Shane reached out and grasped Goldsworth's hand with his own. He felt the tendons jump beneath his fingers as if the man had almost flinched but contained himself at the last second.

           This sort of contact was new, sure they have done a good deal more, but that had been through the touch of fists and blades against the vulnerable parts of the body, never comforting, never casual. But the man didn't pull away, just looking down at where their hands rested on top of the desk, the tip of the blade tucked to the bare inside of Shane's wrist.

           "You need to get out too, Ryan. Please." His eyes grew damp, and it had nothing to do with the blooming pain where the sharp steel had cut into his skin. All the panic and fear after he heard his captain speak at the briefing condensing to hit him all at once, taking away his breath, and his voice shook with the effort it took to remain presentable, barely over a whisper.

           "I can't lose you too."

           There was silence, such horrible heavy silence in the room as Shane waited for a reaction, words, an explosion, a knife in his throat, anything. But the man opposite him just stood frozen in place, staring at the growing puddle of blood on the dark surface of the desk. Uncertainty was showing through on his face for the first time in the years they had known each other, worked together, saved each other's asses more than a few times. The reveal of just that bit of humanity incited a pointless hope and in Shane's heart, but he wasn't the one that mattered here.

           He would have gotten down on his knees to beg then, to beg that Ryan leave his honorable struggle, take his family and get the hell away from the poisonous reign of the king. The man had enough support and power to form his own damn kingdom. It wouldn't have been difficult, since Shane didn't have much pride left to lose, and if it meant Ryan would survive, he would gladly suffer the necessary blows to his fucking dignity.

           "Okay." The quiet word shocked Shane from his thoughts, and it took a moment before his mind registered what the man had just said, and his shock must have shown on his face, too fierce of an emotion to hide beneath the mask he wore every single second he was on duty for the king.

           "Okay," Ryan said again, finally raising his eyes to look at the taller man. His grip loosened on the knife and he twisted his hand until strong calloused fingers gripped Shane's wrist, putting pressure over the bleeding wound. "I'll go, but come with me. You can get out too."

           Now it was Shane's turn to still, the ever-present ache in his chest sharpening in a split second, the wound that never closed. "I-I can't." Tears spilled down his face to mix with the rain that had not yet dried, his words barely getting past the tightness in his throat. "Sara-"

           "Madej." Goldsworth cut him off, fingers digging into his wrist and sending a jolt of pain up Shane's arm, bringing him back to the here and now with the command in his voice. The man's eyes softened as he looked at Shane, and the taller man felt dread take hold in his mind before the man spoke.

“My men found the ashes two days ago, the seer says it's her.” A pause, “She’s gone, Shane.”

           Shane reeled, floundered, tears running dry. Sara was gone. The woman he had planned to spend his life with, then taken away by guards, the knowledge of her life within the capitol a constant harrowing on his soul. Was death really that bad, compared to being held as the counterweight for his obedience? Shane should be happy that she finally didn’t need to suffer because of him. He had done enough damage to this world.

           Distantly, he felt Goldsworth’s hand on the back of his neck, pulling him forward until their foreheads touched gently, the touch all there was to tether him to reality, he could feel the man’s breath on his face when he spoke.

           “She would have wanted you to get out. You’re a good man, you don’t deserve this.” The words shot through the grief clouding Shane’s brain, and he managed to focus on Goldsworth’s mouth, reading the words as they were uttered.

           “I’m going to need you to be brave,” Ryan said, giving Shane’s neck a light squeeze until the taller man was nodding slightly, though how much of that was a conscious decision than tremors he did not know. He tried to speak, and it took a few attempts for the broken syllables to spill out.

           “Okay.”