#chloe angst

[bigmilk-13]

I stand by the headcanon that Ella changed when Red and Chloe changed the timeline.

Ramble under the cut ⬇️

I think that she became more controlling and more fake, to keep up the Charming family appearance. She was colder to Chloe, always required more of her and despite telling her she was 'proud of her achievements' she was always angry if she got below first place. And she reminded her, subtly but regularly, that she was disappointed in her.

But Chloe couldn't tell anyone about it.

Definitely not Red, who changed her mother to be good. She couldn't burden her with her own problems. She had been through so much, been a victim of emotional, mental (probably even physical) abuse.

And now it seemed that the tables had turned.

I wouldn't say that Ella was abusive physically, just emotionally manipulative and made Chloe have mixed feelings about her. One moment telling her that she loved her, but the next whispering to her angrily to straighten up and smile for the family image.

Just to add extra angst: Prince Charming would probably be an abusive drunk in the new timeline. And because of the pressure of being King from a young age- he drank A LOT. Ella had to slip him love potions so he didn't drink a lot, which resulted in conflicts of minds, the same two-facedness as Ella. One moment being a loving father, the next drunkenly shouting at Chloe for leaving her shoes in the middle of the hallway.

[mattw83]

Miraculous Tales Chapter 11 -  PG20

Sometimes a little sweetness goes a long way to temper the vinegar within.

A tale of how Chloe’s many false starts in life were just the beginning to a real redemption of heart and hero.

Luka offers up a helping hand and some kind words to help Chloe, but will she take it?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 -   Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 -   ��Chapter 10   - Chapter 11

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[zoe-oneesama]

If you haven't been keeping up with the Dad Villain/Viceroy AU by @bigfatbreak then you are asleep at the wheel because it is everything U_U. Someday I'll draw Tom/Viceroy, he's just so haaaaard! (Chloe over here trying to just get on with her dead mom jokes but Kim just won't let That Day go and she's about to have to make it a double body count just so he SHUTS UP-!)

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[leona-hawthorne]

SELFISH. mattheo riddle

mattheo riddle x fem reader

summary ; he dreams of you after you leave him because of his addiction words ; 4.4k warnings ; angst, addiction, drug use, swearing, mention of vomit (super brief), established relationship, mattheo and reader live together, post-war

navigation mattheo riddle masterlist

The dim light of the kitchen amplified the feeling of darkness threatening to take over your soul as you sat perched on the counter, silk robe slipping off your shoulder. The sweet scent of fresh cookies flooded your nostrils each time you took a breath, the tray resting on top of the stove. An ice pack was pressed to the burn you’d just attained as you were taking the cookies out of the oven.

It seemed baking was one of your many ways of running from your problems instead of solving them.

Mattheo would be home soon. And unbeknownst to the poor boy, you were currently contemplating how to do it. How to leave him.

Maybe you should just leave now, before he returns. No fuss. Or maybe you could spend one more night in his loving arms and then leave a note on the fridge and quietly slip out at the first cracks of light. But that seemed cruel. You knew what you had to do. You had to tell him face to face. That’s what’s right, isn’t it?

If only it wasn’t so hard.

At heart, Mattheo Riddle was a selfish man.

He was selfish when you kissed him for the first time and he greedily pulled you back in. He was selfish the first time he saw you talking to another boy and got his knuckles bloody because you were supposed to be his only. He was selfish when you gave him your body for the first time and he ravished it from dusk to dawn. He was selfish when he continued to love you during the war, knowing his very being compromised your safety. And he was especially selfish when he didn’t flush the powder down the toilet each time after you washed him of his own fucking vomit. He was even more selfish because he didn’t want to let you go.

You were the light of his life, and as much as he wanted to tell himself that he didn’t know how he’d managed to snuff out your bright candle, that was a lie. With each action he took, with each time he ignored your teary eyes as he grabbed the bottle, there was a gust of wind blowing your once fiery spirit out. He felt as though a knife was being stabbed into his chest over and over and over again, piercing the tissue of his heart and breaking him down. He just couldn’t stop.

“Matty, please,” begging, your whispers would break apart, your voice trembling even in the quietest of tones. He’d shrink down to the floor with you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as your palm clamped over your mouth to silence your whimpers, his glazed eyes would look back to the drawer, unable to stop himself from walking to it.

Guilt, guilt, guilt. It was the only feeling he’d known for a long time now. Guilt, eating away at him as he stumbled home with dilated pupils, your beautiful soul straying from judgment and instead leaning his arm over your shoulder. Guilt, gnawing at his quivering fingers as they drew a new line of white, your muffled sobs leaking through the bathroom door. Guilt streaming down his cheeks in the form of tears as he held you in the aftermath, whispers of false promises that both of you knew were fake but wanted to believe anyway.

The sound of the front door creaking open shook you from your daze, furrowed brows relaxing and pulling your nails away from your teeth. You don’t move. You don’t get up to greet him. Even him walking through the door was a rocky road of memories for you. Sometimes, he’d come home with a smile and a kiss. Other times, he’d return with red eyes and arms that refused to hold onto you for help walking.

”Y/N?” His deep, tired voice called out.

”Kitchen.” You yelled, eventually hearing his footsteps approaching you. Still staring at the floor, you see his feet come into sight as he stands in front of you.

”You’re adorable, you know? Making my favorite cookies for when I get home.” He commented, giving you a lazy smile and a long kiss on the top of your head. “What happened to your finger?” He asked, concern filling his eyes as he saw the ice pack on your hand. You ignore his question.

With a shake of your head, you finally look up so your eyes meet his. “Um… Matt, baby, we need to talk.” Your voice is quiet as you contemplate which words to use. His face sours, lips curling downwards into a frown. “Okay…” He swallowed nervously.

You take a moment to really study your boyfriend’s face and lo and behold, his eyes are red. No surprise. Your expression doesn’t morph into shock or horror or concern. This is your usual now.

“What did you and Theo do today, Matt?” The question sounds innocent but Mattheo knows it is anything but.

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?” He chuckled nervously in an attempt to dodge your question.

”No, but I asked you a question.”

His head tilts down, staring at his feet embarrassedly, and after a long moment of silence, he answers. “You know.”

You huffed quietly, the sound a mixture of a bitter laugh and a scoff. “Yeah, I know… That’s actually what I wanted to talk about.”

His head snapped back up in an instant, eyes filling with fear that he desperately tried to cover up as his feet shifted around, the wooden floor creaking under him. You averted your eyes, unable to meet his fearful gaze as you just decided to be straightforward with it.

“I can’t watch this happen anymore, Mattheo.”

He stumbled back a bit, as if your words were a physical blow. “What?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you continue. “I’m done.” You got down from the kitchen counter to walk away but his hands were already grabbing at your arms. It was like his blood had turned to gasoline, your words the match. He’d been speechless for many moments, his brain going blank as your words settled in and became the only thing occupying his mind, bouncing around the corners of his skull with a groundbreaking echo. Anger, despair, and most of all, fear. Fear that he’d finally pushed you too far, that you were finally leaving. His hands grabbed at you in a desperate attempt to ground himself, to lock you to himself. “No, please—”

“Stop, Mattheo.” You mutter, your voice breaking. His hand froze, his heart clenching in his chest as your voice hit his ears. He hated the way you said his name. There was no love or warmth in it anymore. Just a cold, sharp edge.

“We can talk about this.” He pleaded, his voice becoming low and desperate. “Please, Y/N. Just let me explain.”

“This isn’t something we can fix with a fucking conversation, Mattheo. Not anymore.”

“We can try!” He insisted, his grip on your arm becoming a little firmer. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, and he wasn’t going to let you go without trying to fix this.

“Mattheo, we have tried.” You let out a broken sob.

“I know I messed up. And— and I’ll do better. I’ll stop, I’ll do anything.” He said, the desperation seeping into his voice. “Please, Y/N, I’m begging you.”

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d heard similar words leave his mouth many times before, you may have broken and given in.

“That’s not how that works and you know it.” You utter quietly, teary eyes darting back up to his.

He swallowed, suddenly feeling a mixture of anger and hurt wash over him. “You’re not even willing to fix it.” He spat, his grip on your arm tightening.

He hated the way you spoke to him, like it was so easy for you to walk away. It tore his heart out of his chest. “You don’t get to act like you’re better than me, because you’re not. You’re just a coward, running away instead of facing this like an adult.”

With a sniffle, you bit your tongue and said, “Maybe. But I can’t take this anymore, so I don’t care.”

He flinched at your words, the pain stabbing at his heart as he realized that to you, it was that simple. A part of him wanted to say something more, to convince you to stay, but he knew he couldn't do anything to change your mind. He didn’t deserve for you to change your mind.

And so, with a frustrated, heartbroken glare into your eyes, he abruptly took a few steps back away from you, the walls he’d spent ages lowering for you closing back up, the years worth of trust and progress shattering within an instant.

“Fine. Go ahead. Run away. See if I care.”

You swallowed and walked to your guys’ shared bedroom to pack your things, hoping the walls are thick enough to muffle your sobs.

He watched you walk away, feeling like a dagger was plunging deeper and deeper into his heart with every step you took. He wanted to run after you, to hold you in his arms right then and there and sink down to the living room floor with you, but the cold reality of everything that had happened hit him, and he stayed rooted in his spot, unable to move.

Sitting against the gray wall, he couldn’t even look at you as you walked out the door with your bags clutched in your shaking hands. After you left, he sat there for what felt like hours. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think. His mind was filled with an overwhelming mix of anger, resentment, betrayal, but most of all, an excruciating amount of just simple childlike sadness. It felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

And hours later, still in the same dumbstruck position, in the hazy depths of his mind, he could swear he heard your pretty voice, felt your gentle fingers tracing the outline of his face as they’d done so many times before.

Finally, he decided that he needed to do something, anything to distract himself from the painful emptiness. So he did the only thing he knew how: he went to the white nightstand beside what used to be the both of yours’ bed to take out the one thing he knew would quiet his pounding head.

His fingers brushed against the bottle, and his heart leaped as he recognized the familiar feel of its cylindrical shape. He pulled it out, his eyes widening with relief as he held the bottle in his hands. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He hastily opened the bottle as he walked towards the door leaned against it.

Soon enough, a sudden lightheadedness washed over him, and he sat there for a moment, enjoying the light fuzzy feeling inside his head. It helped to erase all the terrible thoughts that were plaguing his mind, making him feel like he was floating. He reached for another pill, but as he was about to take it, a voice at the back of his head started scolding him.

“What are you doing?”

He flinched as he heard the voice in his mind, his hands still clutching the bottle. He looked around, even though it was clear that the voice wasn’t coming from anywhere in his room. He tried to ignore it, shaking his head and popping another pill into his mouth.

But the voice didn’t go away. It grew louder, demanding he listen to it.

“Stop!”

He began to recognize the voice as yours.

He let out a frustrated groan, rolling his eyes at the voice. “Please shut up, I need this right now!”

But the voice kept echoing through his head. “But Mattheo, you’re hurting yourself. You’re hurting me. Don’t do this to us.”

Jesus, had he really gone so crazy to the point that he started hearing voices and talking to himself in an empty room?

Reluctantly, he laid the bottle back down beside him.

“Good job, pretty baby. Go drink some water.” Your voice murmured in the back of his head.

He felt a pang in his heart at the way you spoke to him. He missed having your hand gently soothing his cheek, your soft kisses planted on his skin. He missed you, even though he was trying his best not to, to just be mad. Hearing your voice in his head, so soft and gentle, was making him crave you even more.

He sniffled loudly, blinking away his tears before they could fall. He couldn’t help but obey.

Without wasting another second, he stood up and huddled off to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. As the cold liquid flowed down his throat, he couldn’t help but feel like you were there with him. He could almost imagine you standing beside him, softly stroking his hair like you had done countless times before.

Sauntering back to the bedroom with his eyes glazed over, he laid back down in the bed, pulling the quilt over his body. The fact that it was riddled with your scent didn’t help to soothe his aching chest. A tired, defeated sigh escaped his lips as he sunk into the soft mattress. His body felt heavy and fatigue washed over him, making it increasingly hard to keep his eyes open. He couldn’t help but wish it was you beside him instead of your pillow, your body pressed against his like it usually was every night.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, the voice spoke up again. “Go to sleep, my love. I’ll watch over you.”

His eyes snapped open and he sat up a bit straighter, his heart racing. God, you’re not really here, are you? You can’t be.

He shook his head, trying to convince himself that it was just his mind playing tricks on him. But the voice continued, growing even more fond.

“Relax, darling. Don’t overthink it. Just rest and I’ll see you in your dreams.”

Your voice in his head was so gentle, a soothing balm over the wound in his heart. He hesitated for a few moments before laying back down. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off into a deep sleep.

But before he lost himself to the dream world, he could have sworn that he felt a gentle pair of lips grazing over his face.

In his dream, he found himself in a beautiful garden, surrounded by bright, colorful flowers. The air was filled with the sweet, fruity scents, and the warm sunlight danced on his skin softly. He stood there, taking a moment to drink in the beauty of his surroundings, before seeing a familiar figure in the distance.

You were walking towards him, dressed in a simple sundress. Your hair gently moved with the wind, and your eyes shimmered under the sunlight, resembling a star in the night sky. You were gorgeous, more beautiful than any flower in the garden.

He couldn’t help but smile as you approached him. He reached out for you, wanting to touch you and see if you were real. But as soon as his fingers brushed against your skin, you vanished, leaving him standing alone in the garden, all silent except for the sound of the gentle breeze.

His heart sank with confusion and disappointment as he realized he was alone again. He let out a frustrated scoff, kicking the grass as he began to look around the garden for you. Finally, he spotted you again, standing under an elegant archway.

He quickly closed the distance between the two of you, his hands reaching up to cup your face. He was relieved that he could touch you again. He softly caressed your cheeks, staring into your eyes with admiration. “I missed you so much,” he whispered, his voice filled with longing.

But before he could say anything else, you vanished once again. He gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling within him as he yelled out your name. He began desperately running around the garden, searching every corner until he spotted you sitting under a cherry blossom tree.

His heart leaped in his chest as he ran towards you, but as soon as he reached the tree, you disappeared once more. He felt his frustration reach its peak and he let out a groan of annoyance, his fists clenching as he yelled angrily.

“Stop disappearing on me! Let me hold you, damn it!”

Just as he was about to give up hope, he suddenly noticed you standing behind him. You were smiling, a kind and loving smile gracing your lips as you said, “Catch me if you can, pretty boy.”

His eyes widened as soon as he heard your voice. He slowly turned around to face you, his heart thumping rapidly as he realized you had really appeared. He reached out to grab you, but just as he was about to wrap his arms around your waist, you suddenly sprinted off, your laughter filling the air.

Despite the initial shock, he broke out into a huge, boyish grin. Without hesitation, he began chasing after you. He was laughing, feeling more alive than he had in weeks. As time flew by, the two of you ran through the flower garden, chasing each other like little children.

Finally, after a long chase, he managed to catch you. He pulled you close, wrapping his strong arms tightly around your body. He let out a satisfied laugh, his eyes filled with warmth and affection as he whispered, “Got you now.”

His heart swelled with happiness as you wrapped your arms around him too, your body pressed securely against his. He buried his face into your hair and breathed in your scent, feeling overwhelmed with contentment.

He let out a gentle sigh before pulling away just enough so he could look down at your face. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before murmuring, “I love you, darling.”

You pulled away slightly to look into his eyes, mirroring his look of contentment. “I love you too, beautiful boy,” you whispered as you gently caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, relishing the feeling of your fingertips against his skin.

But when he opened his eyes, he was met with the image of your figure fading away, a startled gasp escaping him. “No! Come back!” He called out, but you were gone. He frantically looked around the garden, only to find that he was alone once more. He felt your absence like a physical ache, and a sense of longing washed over him.

He stood there, his heart feeling heavy and lonely as he whispered your name, hoping for you to come back. But there was no sign of you, no response to his calls. He sank down onto the grass, feeling lost and desperate. The sun continued to shine, almost as if mocking him and his misery.

He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to regain a sense of comfort, but it wasn't the same. He missed you, longed for your presence. He couldn't bear being alone anymore. The garden around him, which had been so beautiful and filled with life, now seemed empty and boring without you.

He closed his eyes as he lay flat on the ground. Suddenly he felt a kiss on his cheek. His eyes snapped open to see you standing above him with a teasing smile.

A mix of disbelief and happiness washed over him as he saw you standing there, a playful smile gracing your lips. He sat up straight, looking up at you with a mixture of relief and confusion. “You’re back,” he whispered, as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

“What do you mean? I never went anywhere?…” Your voice echoes through the garden as you tilt your head in confusion, looking down at him.

He furrowed his brows, a bit confused by your answer. He looked around at the garden, which was now eerily quiet, then back at you. “But you disappeared. I was chasing you and you vanished.”

“Don’t be silly. I’ve been here the whole time.” You giggled, toying with the straps of your dress.

The confusion in his eyes only deepened as he listened to your words. He was starting to feel a bit disoriented, like he was stuck in a twisted dream. “No, you weren’t,” he insisted. “I lost sight of you for a moment, and then I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

“Oh, beautiful boy. Are you seeing things again?” Your gentle voice echoed throughout the open field.

As he heard the echo of your voice, he felt a pang in his chest. There was something amiss, something that didn’t feel right. “I don’t understand… Are you really here, or is this just my imagination?” he asked, his voice filled with a hint of desperation.

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” You murmured, looking out at the swaying flowers with an innocent smile.

Frustration started to bubble up in him as he heard your ambiguous answer. “That’s not an answer. I need to know if you’re really here or if you’re just a figment of my imagination.” He stood up from the ground and stepped closer to you, his eyes fixed on your face, searching for any signs of truth in your expressions.

Your innocent smile morphed into a playful smirk, angling your head up to look at him. “Catch me,” You say before running again.

He watched you run away, a mix of frustration and determination now etched on his face. He let out a huff and began chasing after you once more. He was tired of feeling powerless and confused, and he was determined to catch you this time.

As he ran through the garden, the flowers of different colors and shapes passed him in a colorful blur. He pushed himself harder, ignoring the occasional thorns and leaves that clawed at his skin. His focus was solely on you, his eyes locked onto your figure as you darted through the garden.

He tried to strategize as he ran, trying to anticipate your next move. You were nimble and elusive, like a butterfly fluttering just out of reach. But he refused to give up. He zigzagged through the garden, trying to cut you off. He was getting closer, he was sure of it.

Finally, he saw an opportunity to cut you off as you headed towards a narrow path between two rows of tall bushes. He pushed himself to sprint even faster and managed to get in front of you, blocking your escape route.

He stood there in front of you, panting heavily from the chase. His chest was heaving, his eyes locked onto yours. “Caught you, darling,” he said breathlessly, a hint of triumph in his voice.

“Come back to me, Mattheo,” You whispered.

The sound of your voice was like a bandage to his tired soul. He stepped closer, closing the gap between them. He reached out and gently took your hands in his, his fingers intertwined with yours. "I'm right here, darling," he whispered back.

“No… You’re not. This isn’t real.”

He furrowed his brows, confusion and a tinge of hurt evident on his face. "What do you mean? Of course, this is real. We're here together, talking, touching. How can it not be real?”

He looked down at your intertwined fingers and lightly brushed his thumb over your knuckles, as if trying to convince himself of your tangible existence. "I can feel you," he murmured. "I can feel your skin against mine. How can that be unreal?"

He lifted one of your hands to his chest, placing it over his heart. It was hammering against his ribcage, his pulse strong and steady. "Can you feel that?" he asked quietly. "Can you feel my heartbeat? That's real. I'm real."

“No, you’re not, sweet boy,” You whisper, your body slowly fading away.

His eyes widened in alarm as he watched your form start to disappear once again. "No, no, no, no, you can't leave me!" He clutched at your hand tightly, unwilling to let you go. "No, you must be real. You have to be!" Panic and despair welled up inside him as he saw your body fading. He gripped tighter onto your hand, desperately trying to keep you with him. "Please, don't disappear," he pleaded, his voice trembling. "I need you. Don't leave me alone again."

“Wake up,” is the last thing you whisper before disappearing from his grasp.

His eyes snapped open, and he jolted upright in his bed. He was bathed in sweat, his heart racing and his breaths coming out in pants. He sat there for a moment, disoriented and confused. It had all felt so real, yet now he was back in his cold, empty room.

He raked a hand through his messy hair, raking his mind over the dream he had just had, searching for answers.

He couldn't shake the feeling of melancholy that had settled over him. He could still remember the way you had felt in his arms, the warmth of your touch and the sweet melody of your voice. He could still see your captivating smile and the sparkle in your eyes. But it was all just a dream.

He ran a hand over his face, feeling both physically and emotionally exhausted. He looked around at his room, which now seemed even more hollow without your presence. He let out a deep sigh, feeling more lonely and empty than ever.

It was clear he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in the bed you once shared so he ambled back to the kitchen sleepily and grabbed one of the cookies you’d left in one hand, a bottle in the other, chugging it with no reaction to the sting.

Stumbling to the sofa and collapsing down, now with his system in overdrive, he couldn’t help but selfishly hope you’d come back and save him from falling deeper into oblivion.

But he knew you wouldn’t and most painfully of all, he knew that he deserved it.

© leona-hawthorne 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost any of my writing.

i went to the melanie martinez concert yesterday! yay! anyways here’s a depressing fic for you <3 also this fic was very much inspired by that one line in chloe or sam or sophia or marcus by taylor swift lol

[ninii-winchester]

Deepest Desire

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 2k

Warnings : angst, heartbreak, feelings of betrayal, alcohol, strong language, spoilers. Unedited.

A/n : This is a Supernatural x Lucifer crossover fic. I’ve only ever watched a few episodes of Lucifer. This is a work of fiction, I don’t own Supernatural or Lucifer. They belong to CW and Netlfix respectively.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Another day, another hunt. But it was nothing crazy. With Chuck being gone things are as normal as they could be. Y/n's friend had called in for help and she was happy to go. On her way back to the Bunker, her car stopped abruptly and wouldn't start. She slammed her hand on the steering wheel before calling Dean, filling him in on the situation.

"If only you'd let me take baby I would've been home by now." She groaned over the phone and she heard him laugh on the other side.

"My bad, sweetheart. You can take it next time." He chuckled before he added, "I'll be in an hour tops okay? Get some place safe."

"Yeah I see a bar its uh.. 'the tipsy tavern' I'll be there."

She hung up the phone and made her way towards the bar. It wasn't too far from where her car stopped, just a walking distance. She went inside and it was, well, typically how a bar is. She scanned the place thoroughly, her eyes landing on a woman with blond hair. She seemed troubled. She kept looking over her shoulder, continuously fidgeting with her hands.

Y/n walked up to her and slid in the stool beside her. The woman slightly jumped at the action and it didn't go unnoticed by her.

"Hey are you okay?" Y/n asked her, the woman eyed her cautiously before nodding.

"I'm fine." She replied curtly.

"Are you sure? You seem distressed." Y/n pressed hoping she could help somehow. The woman sighed, looking at her.

"You’d think I’m crazy."

"Try me." Y/n said mentally scoffing, what could this woman tell her that would be more unbelievable than what she deals with on a daily basis.

"I'm not from here."

"So you're a foreigner, are you lost?" Y/n questioned.

"No you don't understand." The woman seemed frustrated. "My name is Chloe Decker, I'm a detective." She said and Y/n nodded, urging her to continue. "I'm from LA. But this isn't my world." Chloe didn't know what it was about the woman infront of her that made her want to trust her.

"Your world?" Before Chloe could answer a man in a black suit takes a seat on the side side of Chloe.

"Well hello there. Made a new friend, did we detective?" The man spoke in a British accent.

"This is uh.." Chloe trailed off not knowing her name so Y/n quickly told her name. "This is Y/n." The man opened his mouth to say something but Y/n interrupted him.

"What do you mean this isn't your world?" She questioned.

"Well you see darlin' we were on a case, an then an explosion went off and we were here. I can feel the change in the cosmic energy around us." The man spoke.

"How do you feel the cosmic energies?" Y/n questioned the man.

"My bad lady, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Lucifer Morningstar." He said with a smooth voice.

"You're Lucifer? Like the devil Lucifer?" She questioned.

"Yes." He replied. "The devil Lucifer."

"That can't be." She said mostly to herself.

"I know it sounds implausible but-"

"You're dead. We killed you this isn't possible. You're not Lucifer. You can't be." She whisper yelled at the man who claimed to be Lucifer.

Chloe looked back and forth between Lucifer, the smirk on his face was long gone and it was morphed into a serious expression,

"Can we rewind back to when she said we killed you'." He said looking at Chloe who seemed even more troubled. "Who even are you?"

"God, this day couldn't get any worse." Y/n sighed. The trio had now shifted to a table for four. Chloe sat beside Lucifer and Y/n infront of him. She had foregone the glass and was now directly drinking from the bottle of whiskey. She needed as much as alcohol she could to process this.

"So, you're telling me, you hunt monsters and Lucifer of this universe was locked in a cage in Hell and then your..boyfriend's brother let him out and he wreaked havoc so you pushed him back inside and later killed him when he came back?" Chloe asked tasting the words on her mouth because it sounds absurd when said out loud.

"I know it sounds weird when you put it like that but yeah." Y/n said with humorless chuckle. "You weren't locked?" She asked Lucifer.

"No, Father just kicked me out from Heaven, I ruled Hell for a while but then I got bored so I came to Earth and I'm detective's partner now."

"Wow, so you're not a dick like he was. Our universe's Lucifer should've learned a thing or two from you." She scoffed. "Anyways, so if you have your mojo you can't teleport yourself back to your universe?"

"Mojo?" Chloe questioned.

"His powers." Y/n clarified and the former nodded.

"You I haven't actually tried if they're working." Lucifer admitted.

"Bit slow, aren't you?" Y/n sassed Chloe snorted, she found it amusing, this woman is sassing the devil himself.

"You seem so unbothered it's like it's just another Tuesday for you." Chloe commented and Y/n muttered a small 'tell me about it'. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she answered call the call. It was Dean.

"Hey I'm almost here. I saw your car and I'm heading to the bar now." He said.

"Alright cool. See you soon." She said hanging up. She looked at the couple infront of her. "Dean's here, I'll ask him if we can help you somehow."

"Thank you so much, Y/n." Chloe said gratefully smiling at her. The former nodded and mumbled a quick, 'I'll be back' before leaving the bar.

She waited a few minutes before she saw the black Impala pulling up. She watched her boyfriend get out the car and she made her way towards him.

"Hey gorgeous." He cupped her cheeks and pulled her in for a kiss. "I could've come get you inside. You didn't have to wait outside." He said against her lips. She pulled away and bit her lip. Dean groaned as he recognised her expression.

~~~

"So you're telling me this Lucifer is British." Dean said looking at his girlfriend incredulously. The two of them had went inside and Y/n took her previous seat while Dean took one beside her.

"That's all you gathered from what I've told you?" Y/n asked her boyfriend and he shurgged. "Anyways, they need our help and i think we should help him."

"Really? You want to help the dick that possessed Sam and almost killed all of us twice?" Dean snapped. Lucifer seemed offended but he didn't comment.

"De, he's not him. That asshole is dead." Y/n added. Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, his gaze scrutinising Lucifer. He then looked at Chloe who seemed helpless and then at his girlfriend who was sporting a pout.

"Fine." Dean sighed. "We'll help, but that doesn't mean I trust you." He warned the devil who raised his hands in surrender.

"Lucifer why don't you see if your mojo works in this universe as well?" Y/n suggested. Lucifer closed his eyes doing God knows what.

"Woah woah stop." Dean said to Lucifer, then turned to Y/n, "What if he's as juiced up as the one we encountered and blows up the place?"

"You're right, I guess." Chloe chimed in and turned to her partner, "why don't you do the thing?" She said to him and he smirked, it's clearly something he loves doing.

"The thing?" Y/n questioned.

"It's nothing harmful. I promise." Chloe replied.

"Y/n dear." Lucifer calls her and she looks at him, he leans a bit towards her making Dean's protective side take over.

"Hey back off." Dean growled but Chloe put a hand over his arm.

"Its okay." She reassured him.

"Tell me Y/n, what is it that you truly desire?" Lucifer asked but his smirk dropped.

"Am I supposed to feel anything or should I just tell you?" She questions.

"This usually works." Lucifer says. "I think I don't have my powers here."

"What were you even trying to do?" Dean questions.

"He can read into people's heart, find their deepest darkest desires." Chloe answers. "Things that you never tell anyone."

"Well maybe it didn't work because I don't have a secret desire." Y/n commented making Lucifer and Chloe look at her in disbelief.

"Everyone has something they desire." He retorted. "Things they never tell anyone."

"I agree but mine isn't hidden or a big secret, for me its Dean." She shrugged. "My deepest desire is to have a normal life with him a house, family, kids, the whole nine yards." She spoke as if it wasn't a big deal and Dean swore he felt himself fall for her all over again. He pecked her temple and Chloe gushed at them.

"Interesting." Lucifer commented.

"If you can feel the cosmic energy around here I'm sure you have your powers. Why don't you try it on Dean?" Y/n suggested.

"I think she's right." Chloe added.

Lucifer faced Dean and the latter shifted a bit under his observing gaze. "Tell me Dean, what is it that you truly desire?" He questioned the Winchester and Y/n watched in anticipation awaiting his answer. A few seconds passed before he answered and nothing could've prepared her for Dean's answer.

"Amara." That one was enough for Y/n's world to come crashing down on her. She felt herself tear up but she cleared her throat before speaking.

"Well at least your still have your powers." Chloe could hear the heartbreak in her voice and gave her a sympathetic look. Lucifer, who found this situation amusing, asked,

"Who's Amara?" Dean sucked in a sharp breath, glaring at the man in front of him, who just smirked in return. What could you expect from him, he's the Devil after all.

"Your Aunt." Y/n snapped unintentionally.

"Why, must you be this childish?" He asked, feeling offended.

"No literally. Amara is God's sister, the darkness. She was here a while back before we locked her up." Y/n explained her voice void of any emotion.

"I've never heard of her. She didn't exist in my universe." Lucifer replied. He pinched the bridge of his nose before adding, "one thing I've realised you lot's universe is way fucked than ours."

"I'll call Sam and ask if we know a way to open a portal to another universe. Excuse me." Y/n said getting up from her chair and walking out the bar. Dean immediately trailing behind her.

"Baby, Y/n." He called out for her but she didn't stop. She let tears fall free now that she wasn't in front of a crowd. "Sweetheart listen to me." He caught up with and turned her to look at him. He hated seeing her cry and hated it even more when he was the reason for her tears. "I can explain, please just..-"

"What's there to explain, Dean?" She cried. She harshly wipes her tears. "Do you want to add salt to wound, tell me it's pitiful that you don't want me as much as I want you?" She let out a sarcastic laugh. "You know what I realised?" She asked rhetorically. "It's always something before me, your car, Sam, Amara, hunting. I'm probably the last thing you need in your life." The moment she said that Dean felt like someone had shot him in the heart.

"No baby, don't say that." Dean begged holding her close. "It's not true. I want you more than anything in this entire world." She scoffed before pulling away from him.

"I need to call Sam. Even if he's been harmless until now, we don't need another Lucifer prancing around our world." She put some distance between them before calling Sam.

"Harmless, my ass." Dean muttered as he kicked the dirt on the road.

He needed to make this right, he wouldn't be able to live if he ever lost her and he needs her to know that. He has to make it right and he will be damned if he didn't.

Part 2

[chlerc]

— summary; he believed you when you said you would fly over to celebrate his birthday with him, excited to see your face. but he didn’t know it’d be that easy for you to leave him without a trace.

pairing — jude bellingham x f. reader ( third person story )

word count — 1630.

content — angst, like bad / sad ending. they don’t get a happy ever after ending. long distance friendship, she’s always here and there for him but never stayed long enough. secretly pining over each other

NAVIGATION + author’s note: wrote this when i was sick, the motivation and inspiration always strikes here. always putting my boy jude through the angsty stories lol

song recs for this fic — no one noticed.

The glow of Madrid’s street lights flickered in the corners of her vision as she adjusted her scarf, weaving through the late-night crowds that filled the cobblestone alleys of the city. Her heart beat in time with her steps, a rhythm that both grounded and unsettled her as she drew closer to his building. It felt surreal to be here — a place she’d only known through pixels and video calls, a place that lived solely in the stories he’d woven for her across distant lines.

The door swung open, and there he was — his face breaking into a grin, eyes bright with delight and something softer, something she couldn’t name but felt resonate in her chest. Without a word, he pulled her into an embrace, his arms wrapping around her so tightly that she could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. “Didn’t expect you’d actually come,” he teased, though his eyes held a glint of something softer, something more grateful.

“Best birthday gift I could ask for,” he added, his tone light, yet his hold unwavering as though he feared she’d slip away. Pulling back, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his gaze lingering, studying her as though to make sure she was truly there.

“Well,” she murmured, brushing past him with a faint smile, “someone’s got to make sure you don’t spend your birthday alone.” She took in the room with its modest decor, the hints of his presence scattered in the form of art pieces, records stacked near the player, and an open notebook on the desk. He chuckled, closing the door behind her. “I told you, I don’t mind being alone.”

“Perhaps,” she replied, feigning an indifferent shrug. “But what if I do?” Her gaze met his, holding his for a moment before she turned away, pretending to inspect the records as though she hadn’t just travelled across countries to be here.

They settled into the evening slowly, an awkwardness blanketing them at first, a product of shared screens finally giving way to physical space. But eventually, laughter eased through the gaps, filling the quiet corners of his small apartment. They shared stories, exchanged quiet jokes, and lingered over glasses of wine that made the room feel warmer, the air laced with the scent of familiarity and anticipation.

As the evening deepened, they ventured out onto his balcony. The city lights stretched before them, bright and steady, twinkling with the same allure that had first drawn her to his words, to his enigmatic charm.

“Look at this view,” she whispered, her voice softened by awe. He shrugged, gazing at her instead of the skyline. “It’s just a city. It’s better with you here.” She smiled faintly, caught between the quiet euphoria of his words and the nagging reality that lingered at the edges of her mind. She knew she would leave soon, knew that this moment would end. The thought hung heavily between them, unspoken.

“Will you stay long?” he asked, finally breaking the silence, his voice a low murmur against the hum of the city. She exhaled, her breath curling in the cool night air. “I don’t know. Long enough, I suppose,” she replied, her words as carefully crafted as they were vague.

He reached out, catching her hand in his, a simple touch that anchored them amidst the unsteadiness of whatever this was. “You’re always like this,” he said, half-smiling. “Appearing out of nowhere and then vanishing like you’re a dream.”

“Maybe I am,” she murmured, meeting his gaze. “Maybe that’s all this ever was.” For a moment, the conversation hung heavy between them, layered with questions and fears neither dared voice. But then he laughed, and it softened the tension, bringing them back to a more familiar, playful place. “Well, if that’s the case, I suppose I should make the most of this dream while it lasts.”

Jude draped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, the silence between them thick with unspoken sentiments. “You know, I don’t say this enough, but I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted, his voice a murmur in the cool night air. She looked up at him, searching his expression, and a pang of something bittersweet tugged at her. She wanted to stay in this warmth, this certainty, but she knew that come dawn, she would have to slip away.

“I’m glad I came too,” she replied softly, her voice barely a whisper. Jude’s gaze was soft as he looked down at her, thumb brushing her cheek as though memorising the contours of her face. For a brief, irrational moment, she wanted to tell him everything — that she wished she could stay, that she didn’t want to leave this, leave him. But she said nothing, instead resting her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, each beat a fleeting reassurance she knew would fade by morning.

They leaned into the quiet closeness, the moments blurring together as the evening stretched on, her laughter mingling with his in the warm light of the city. Time drifted, unbound, until the faintest hint of dawn crept across the skyline. She glanced at him, seeing the calm softness in his eyes as they drifted shut, his breathing even, and she knew that she’d fulfilled whatever it was she’d come to do.

When he finally awoke, the first rays of morning spilling through the curtains, he found himself alone. Her scarf was still draped over the back of a chair, her perfume lingering faintly in the air. He blinked, sitting up and looking around, the remnants of last night’s laughter still fresh on his lips. But the silence pressed in, weighted and still, like a final goodbye.

On the table, she’d left a small note, folded neatly with her handwriting sprawled across the front:

“Happy Birthday. See you in the spaces between.”

He laughed quietly, though it sounded more like a sigh, tracing his fingers over the words. The irony wasn’t lost on him. She’d become his obsession, his mystery, a presence as elusive as the dreams he could never quite hold on to. And though he didn’t know when — or even if — he’d see her again, he couldn’t shake the feeling that wherever she was, some part of her would always be right here, lingering in the traces she’d left behind.

With a soft sigh, he let the silence settle around him, her absence heavy in the early morning light. Her scarf, still draped over the chair, seemed almost like a placeholder, a faint whisper of her presence against the cold, hard truth of her departure. She’d left, slipped out as quietly as she’d arrived, like a carefully crafted illusion dissipating with the dawn. He ran his hand over the note she’d left behind, her familiar handwriting tracing the words: Happy Birthday. See you in the spaces between.

He let out a quiet laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh, his thumb brushing over the ink, her words as gentle and evasive as she’d been. There was a charm to her mystery, an allure to the way she moved in and out of his life, almost as though she existed just beyond his reach, a mirage in a desert he didn’t know he’d been wandering. But this time, there was an ache behind his eyes, a quiet longing that tugged with a new intensity, as though some part of him had grown tired of the chase, of these small doses of her presence that he could never quite hold onto.

A sudden impulse tugged at him. He grabbed a pen from his desk, leaning over the small note she’d left. His fingers brushed the page as he wrote, the words forming slowly, deliberately, almost as though he was afraid of what they might reveal. 

“Don't leave me without a trace; it can’t be that easy please,” he wrote, his handwriting messy and sprawling in contrast to her neat scrawl. He paused, watching the ink dry, knowing she’d never see his reply, yet there was a strange comfort in writing it all the same, as if committing his thoughts to paper might somehow reach her, wherever she was.

He lingered over the note a moment longer, then folded it carefully, tucking it into a drawer with a sense of finality he didn’t quite feel. The silence that filled the room felt heavier now, loaded with the words left unsaid, the moments that had slipped through his fingers like sand.

In her absence, he found himself tracing back through their time together, each memory sharp and vivid, yet fleeting, like flashes of light in a darkened room. He recalled the way she’d laughed under the city lights, the way her voice had softened when she’d whispered, “Maybe I’m just a dream.” It was as if she’d known she would leave, had planned it all along, and he couldn’t decide whether to be grateful for the moments they’d shared or resentful of the empty space she’d left behind.

Yet he knew that her departure, as difficult as it was to accept, had always been part of her. She was as unpredictable as the wind, as elusive as a distant star, and perhaps that was what had drawn him to her in the first place. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the window, to the soft glow of morning light that seemed to fill every corner of the room with a quiet, bittersweet warmth.

And though he knew he would miss her — miss her laugh, her voice, the quiet moments they’d shared — he couldn’t shake the sense that some part of her would always linger here, an unspoken promise hanging in the air, caught between the spaces of their fleeting time together.

[strugglingsapphic]

TW: mentions of blood and killing

the first time Chloe kills for Red, she's unsure how to feel. Seeing the pride in Red's eyes makes her feel giddy even when she's covered in the blood of the assassin that had snuck in to the palace. She feels guilty over the addicting rush of winning a fight to the death, the demented feeling of joy, that she had made Red's eyes flash in a way the never had before, made them hold a wildness that only seemed to be growing as her eyes took in Chloe standing in her shorts and tshirt, soaked in crimson. The room smells like copper, and the blood soaked shirt is starting to stick to her stomach, and the dagger is still in her hand, but red grins at her maniacally and she can't help but grin back. She just killed a man, and she can't help but want to do it again, if it means Red will look at her like that. She feels like something has shifted in her, like she's going mad, because shes not supposed to enjoy killing, not supposed to chase the rush that slitting the assassins throat had given her. But this is wonderland, they're all a little mad down here.

[xoxoladyaz]

Feeling some Steddie angst hours in this house 🚨🚨🚨

After they kill Vecna, things go back to normal. Well, as normal as they can be. Whatever brief moment of insanity Steve and Nance had ends about as suddenly as it began, and she can’t really meet his eyes once her hand is back in Jonathan’s.

(It’s a blessing when she leaves for Columbia, Jonathan’s beat-up car following right behind her.)

The least normal thing is probably Eddie Munson, or at least whatever Steve’s relationship is with him now. It’s - there’s just something different there, some strange warmth that he feels when he looks at Eddie. And sometimes Steve catches Eddie just looking at him and - well, it gives him that same warm feeling, and maybe that means something? Something that maybe seemed scary before but is nowhere near as scary as Eddie almost bleeding out in Steve’s arms.

He’s in the midst of talking himself up, of figuring out just what he’s going to say to Eddie, when the Munsons announce they’re heading out of town and then leave the next day. Steve’s almost paralyzed with anxiety, but he’s gotta say something, right?

Except Eddie cuts him off at the knees with a weak smile, tells him not to be a stranger, to visit him in the city with his kids and a Winnebago once he’s finally gotten that suburban dream, and then he’s gone.

And Steve doesn’t hear from him again.

To be fair, no one really hears from Eddie; just Dustin, who will chime in that they’ve chatted every once in a while, that Eddie went to LA for a bit and then Seattle and finally settled in Chicago; that he seems to be really happy, but never gives any information beyond that.

And Steve? He packs up his life and follows Robin to college, and when he accompanies her to their first gay bar and sees two metal heads kissing, something inside him snaps and the pair of them end up drunkenly crying in their tiny apartment’s bathroom. But it gets better after that, and two years after their move to Indy, Steve meets Sam.

Sam, who’s got the lightest blonde hair he’s ever seen, cut into a shaggy mullet that perfectly offsets his shiny hazel eyes. He’s got a bright smile and a pierced eyebrow and too many earrings to count and his laugh is loud and joyous and for whatever reason, he likes Steve as much as Steve likes him.

Robin, of course, is ecstatic and takes all the credit for introducing them, which is technically true seeing as she was the one to spill her drink all over Sam before Steve came to the rescue. (Although she then almost ruined everything by throwing up on both of their shoes, so, Steve only lets her gloat so much.)

Three years after that finds Steve and Robin gainfully employer, as teachers of all things, and Vickie finally succeeds in convincing Robin to move in with her, and, well, it only makes sense that Steve and Sam get their own place too because, well, Steve loves him. Loves his ripped jeans and his skateboard and the fact that he’s cheery no matter the time of day, that he wants to have a family probably even more than Steve does and didn’t blink when Steve said he wanted six kids, he only laughed and said “why stop there?” And it may not be exactly what Steve was thinking in that Winnebago all those years ago, but that’s okay, because what he has with Sam? Is way better.

Once Steve and Sam get settled, Sam insists that they have a housewarming party (because Sam makes good money at his tattooing gig, and Steve’s inheritance is nothing to sneeze at, and they’re actually able to get a house, which feels insane but also just right) and invite all of Steve’s kids, who he’s met a few times but never all at once, and Steve is so whipped he says “yes” without a second thought.

(Which he really should have had because Henderson was also living in Chicago now.)

So when Henderson wanders in with Eddie as his plus one, and Sam is nowhere in sight, Steve only gives himself a moment to freak out before walking over to greet Eddie.

“Steeevveeeee Harrington,” Eddie purrs with a toothy grin. “Good to see you man. And good to see you finally getting started on that dream of yours,” he says, slapping Steve on the shoulder. “With Sam, I hear. You two crazy kids getting started on those six kids yet?”

“Uh, not - “

“Not quite yet,” Sam cuts in from behind Steve, wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist and tucking Steve’s head under his chin. “I still want a few more years of this guy all to myself. You must be Eddie,” Sam grins, sticking out his hand. “Good to meet you man. I’ve heard all about you.”

Eddie just stares at Sam. Stares and stares until Dustin kicks him in the shin. “Right. Sam. Sam. Good to meet you, man,” Eddie says, but he looks pale and vaguely sick and if Steve didn’t know from the few times Dustin had slipped up in the past, he’d think Eddie was homophobic (and he knew that wasn’t the case.)

Sam grins. “Well, good to have you here. Steve, babe, Robin wants you in the kitchen, something about the salsa - “

“Oh my God,” Steve groans, and then all thoughts of Eddie are forgotten in his rush to make sure Robin doesn’t actually poison everyone, and then he gets busy greeting people and saying hi and it’s not until well after midnight, when the remaining guests are smoking up with Argyle and Steve is taking out the trash that he remembers Eddie. Or, more accurately, that he bumps into him.

“So. Sam,” Eddie says, smoking a cigarette by the garage, gazing off into the distance. “He’s a good dude. Got shit taste in music, though.”

Steve slams the trash can lid shut a little harder than he needs to. “Dude,” he sighs, and Eddie must hear his exhaustion because he doesn’t say anything else for a while.

“Did you know?”

“About what?”

“About you? Back in ‘86?”

Steve just nods tiredly. “Yeah, man. I did.”

Eddie hums nervously. “And was there someone - “

“Eddie, man, you know there was. You know.”

“Yeah,” Eddie’s laugh sounds broken. “Yeah, I did. Fuck. Fuck.”

And Steve doesn’t know what to say, because what is there to say? He loved Eddie; hell, part of him still loves Eddie. But Eddie ran at the first inkling of there being something between them, and Sam didn’t. He’s never run, not even when Steve gave him so many reasons to. And Steve could tell Eddie that he’s wondered, so many times he’s wondered, what they could have been. If they could be anything.

But Eddie wasn’t there to hold out his hand, and Sam was. Sam is, and that makes all the difference.

Steve claps his hand on Eddie’s shoulder, just like Eddie did when he arrived, and then he heads into his house.

(This time, he’s the one to leave Eddie behind.)

[feuersturm97]

Some different spy x family drawings I did the last two days xD

[theatre-mqn]

Time Loop!Red is not having a fun time, is she.

[nobodyfamousposts]

Missing Sneak Peak (SUBJECT TO CHANGE)

The truth is out about Marinette's predicament, and to everyone's surprise, Chloe calls Ladybug:

"I need a favor."

It was a standoff.

Ladybug had faced down akumas, false heroes, monsters of man and magic, and even Hawk Moth himself. And not once had she ever backed down or given up.

But Chloe Bourgeois was nothing if not stubborn. She was long used to getting what she wanted.

And she wasn't going to let something as simple as facing an opponent with a mask and superpowers deter her.

“Look, I worked with you before. That has to mean something, right? I helped you before! Against my Dad and against Hawk Moth on Heroes Day! You…you owe me.”

Ladybug looked unimpressed. “The Miraculous do not entitle you to anything, Chloe.”

“No, hear met out!” Chloe insisted. “You trusted me to help you. And I did! I put my life on the line as your teammate. So…so that warrants something, doesn’t it? I deserve something! A wish. An ask. Just one request.”

The hero frowned. But Chloe was undeterred.

“So look, just…bring her back already. Bring back Marinette Dupain-Cheng and every stupidly good and positive thing she brings with her, and I’ll…I don’t know. I’ll find some way to return the favor.”

Ladybug simply stared at her. Blank. Unfeeling.

“I can pay you! Even superheroes need money, right?”

“Chloe….”

“I’ll be better! No more akumas, I promise!”

“Chloe.”

“I’ll be nicer! I’ll stop bugging my Dad for things and stop causing problems!”

“That's not—h”

“I'll donate my wardrobe to charity!”

“I can't just—"

“I’ll stop making comments to my classmates! I’ll just shut up completely! I’ll get voice surgery if I have to!”

“Chloe, that’s not how it works—”

“NO! It HAS to work!” She shouted, cutting her off. Because she refused—she refused to accept any other answer. “You’re Ladybug! You always make it work! So you can just make this work, too!”

Silence.

“Please.” Chloe begged. “This is the one good thing I have. I don’t want to—I can’t give it up!”

Ladybug simply looked at her, almost pityingly.

“Please." Chloe repeated. "Just this one thing. That's all.”

Ladybug simply shook her head, leaving Chloe feeling hollow.

And without even a word, Ladybug turned away.

Chloe just stared after her in shock.

Because Ladybug was Ladybug. A hero. THE hero. Always there. Always helpful. Always caring.

So why…?

Why didn’t she care now?

Then…

…it hit her.

And Chloe laughed.

How could she not?

“Of course.“ She laughed mournfully. “Of course she had gotten to you too.”

Because of course even Ladybug would be different.

Because of course if anyone could have helped make a Ladybug into the great hero she was today, it would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

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

“Chloe?" Adrien called out as he entered her room, worried and unsure. "Is everything okay? You were crying on the phone and…”

He froze, seeing Chloe curled up next to her Bee signal.

“Chloe?”

She didn’t move or answer immediately. He was worried she didn’t even realize he was there, given how blankly she seemed to be staring into nothing.

“Chloe?” He asked as he approached.

Silence.

Unsure of what else to do, he sat next to her and waited.

Chloe had gotten like this before. A long, long time ago.

She would have these times where she'd get quiet and small. And he would sit next to her, just barely touching. Close enough that she'd know he was there and could decide from there if she wanted to lean on him or push away. He always left it up to her. Always waited. Because Chloe never pushed him away. And with enough time, she would voice her feelings, just loud enough that he could hear.

...and sure enough...

“My Mom forgot my name today.” She whispered.

Adrien paused.

He knew how much that had to hurt her. Chloe’s Mother was everything to her. Everything she idolized and admired. Everything she wanted and wanted to be. He’d never seen her happier than when her Mom settled back in Paris and returned to her life.

It had meant everything to her. And to lose it again…

“I’m sorry, Chloe.” He said, leaning closer to her. “I thought things were better.”

“They were.” She sniffed, trying to hold back the hurt. “They were better. And do you know why?”

She laughed, startling him with how bitter it sounded.

“Chloe?”

“It was because of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Because of course it was!" She started off lowly, but her tone grew angrier the more she spoke. "Because of course she is! Because of. Freaking. COURSE if ANYONE was to get my Mom to do better and treat me like I’m actually family and just be a mom, it would be stupid perfect Marinette!”

She curled in on herself with a sob.

“Not…not me.”

Despite her efforts, the tears began to flow.

“And…and now—”

She hiccuped, forcing herself to speak.

“I heard it, you know. They're saying that Marinette got hit by that akuma and now not only did she disappear, but everything—everything connected to her is disappearing, too. Like…how? How does that even work? How does one person affect that much? She was just…just a little nobody! She didn’t matter!” Chloe lowered her head. “At least, she didn’t use to.”

Adrien frowned, wanting to argue, but forced himself to not speak.

Chloe filled the silence instead.

“And it was scary learning she was fading, because that could happen to you or me or anyone, but it was like no big deal, right? Because  yeah, she’s done some things and helped some people but it's not like she did that much, right? So her being gone wouldn't matter that much. Surely she didn’t impact me.” Her eyes clenched shut. “But she did, and now it’s hitting me in the face just how much of what I had was because of her and…and…”

She tried to wipe at her eye, only for more tears to trail.

“And now just like that! It’s all gone! Just back to how it was before. Like—like it never happened! Mom caring about me? Loving me? Yeah right! When did that ever happen? It wasn't me being awesome or a good daughter or following in her footsteps that got my Mom's attention!" She smiled falsely, tears falling from her eyes in a sad show of her true feelings.

"Nope! It wasn't anything about me! It wasn't even about Mom realizing she loves me! Everything we got to have was all only because of Marinette Dupain-Cheng!” She exclaimed with a wild waving of her hands. "Isn't that lovely? Isn't that awesome? Isn't it great how she just fixed everything and brought us together into the happy little family I'd been wanting for years?"

“Chloe…”

She shook her head, showing a bitter smile.

“And now because of stupid akumas and stupid magic, Marinette isn’t here. And because she isn’t here, she wasn’t there. And because she wasn’t there, it didn’t happen. And because it didn’t happen, everything’s just…poof! Gone! Just like that! Just like magic!”

She clenched her fists, her smile falling. “And now I know it never would have happened on its own. Not with just me. Not without her. It was only because of her that I had my Mom back at all. And now that she’s gone, I’m gonna lose that too and…and…”

She sobbed.

“It’s not fair.”

It wasn’t, he agreed internally because what could he actually say?

He understood her feelings about her Mom. It was hold he felt with his own Dad. Never feeling enough. And to have someone else come in and fix that…he wasn’t sure whether he would be grateful or hurt. He was even less sure how he would respond.

…he would feel sad. He knew that much.

“And the worst part? Ladybug is just the same. Harsh sometimes, but not like that. Never like that.”

Silence.

A breath.

“What does that say?” Chloe asked. “When her being gone makes that big of a difference? With my hero AND with my Mom. Not me. Not anyone. No. It's because of Her.”

Adrien stared in surprise. He'd known Ladybug was off, but even Chloe had noticed a difference? It was jarring.

“Ladybug is?”

Chloe wiped her tears. “She's different. You've noticed, haven't you?” She paused, before shrugging. “Though maybe you haven't been around her enough to. But she's different, too. Everyone is different without her. Ladybug. My Mom...I get why. I remember what happened to start it, but still...”

He had as Chat, but he couldn't tell her that.

“And I hate it!” She suddenly exclaimed, anger rushing through her. “I hate it because it means it was nothing about me that made it even happen or made me worth it in the first place but it was everything about her and I hate that but I’m so selfish because—yeah okay, I hate it but I’ll still take it if it means I get to have this and it’s still better than not having Mom at all even if I only got it this way but now I can’t even have that much anymore and soon I never will have had it at all and it'll be like it never happened and it’s not fair!” She ended up shouting, slamming her fist into the ground.

“Chloe!”

“I’m not good, but it’s not fair!”

He hesitated for a moment.

But it was only a moment before he drew her into his arms and let her cry.

He wanted to speak and reassure her. Insist that she was wrong and she was more than enough. It was the right thing to say. The kind thing.

But he was still learning and growing and still so very scared of saying the wrong thing.

Nino had helped him. Listened to him. Helping him without even saying a thing.

Because it was what he needed…because sometimes people needed to make their voices heard more than they needed kind words.

And Adrien could do that much.

So he sat by her, waiting in solidarity and support. The friend and listener she needed as she cried.

[tears-of-xion]

What if I vanished?

What would you do then?

-

Please do not use or re-post my artwork without my permission. Thank you!   (reblogs, however, are welcome and appreciated)

I do not own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir, nor it’s characters. All rights to their owners.

[mattw83]

Miraculous Tales Chapter 12 -  Pg19

Sometimes a little sweetness goes a long way to temper the vinegar within.

A tale of how Chloe’s many false starts in life were just the beginning to a real redemption of heart and hero.

Chloe manages to return to her room before the strength of her heart gives out.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 -   Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 -    Chapter 10   - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12

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[casualwriters]

Summary: Nathan comes to the one person beside Victoria he trusts, and you, when he has a mental breakdown,  are there to calm him down. 

Warnings ⚠️ Spoilers for LIS, mental breakdowns, underage smoking , Marijuana.

pairing ~ Nathan Prescott x poc fem reader

A/n ~ I love writing this side of Nathan just so adorable had fun doing this small fic.

Finally Having a day off, you were stuck in your dorm, leaning back against the pillow, sighing, and going through some of the pictures. This was hard, but some of them were okay. and you been into

photography, for a while and most of the pictures were of Nathan and some of Victoria; both of them were photogenic and good, so why not use Victoria for that? Picking up one of the pictures, a smile came onto your face and than there was one of you but would that really work.

Standing in front of Nathan in full swing was one of the Vortex parties. Clearly, both of you were waisted or on something. His head was nuzzled into your neck and kissing your skin, and both of you were smiling and happy. 

Grabbing the lighter, holding the bong in your hand, and taking a hit, the sound of bubbles and the smoke envading your lungs Blowing the smoke into the air, you saw the door open. "Nate?" you asked, setting the bong on the ground. Standing up, you saw him walk in. He looked furious. "Hey," he said. You could tell he was just trying to keep his cool. You wanted to walk over and just give him a huge hug, but you knew better. 

"Fucking Max!" He raised his voice, making you sit down on your bed. You were just here to listen. "She has to put her fucking noise in everything," he said, pushing off from the door frame he was leaning on and walking forward. It looked like he was going to cry, but he never cried. "Nate, come here," you said, stepping up from your bed and walking closer. If any normal person had even tried to talk to him, he would have flipped and gone crazy. "Y/n, I can't do this anymore," he said, his voice stern and his face growing red and in tears, but you could tell it was deeper than that not just about Max Mabye, his dad? 

Nathan pulled away. His eyes were red and puffy from crying into your shoulder; he looked like he was a mess. He was finally breaking down and showing the people, and you turned around to see him looking at the pictures. that were on your bed, you could see the small smile on his face when he walked to your bed and picked up one of the pictures. It was you. Sitting in your dorm room, Christmas lights were over your skin, and the light was dark, but there was some light in the middle. You were posing while sitting, and your back was turned to the camera. "This one," he waved to you. His face was still sad, and anger was in his eyes. "Mr. Jefferson would have to pick this one." 

You sat down on the bed, and Nathan followed. He did not mind having his eyes closed, and some tears were falling down. Wrapping him in a hug, you kissed his head, and Nathan looked down at the picture. "You are beautiful; you know that, right?" It was rare. Nathan was never really verbal with his feelings and never had his guard down, but it was refreshing to see it. 

Holding Nathan, he was laying his head on your chest. Hearing your heart beat and chuckling a little, you nodded. "You told me before," you said, and Nathan chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Don't forget it, Princess," he says. 

[insane-hag]

KIND OF ANGSTY GLASSHEART CONCEPT THINGY

This is ENTIRELY just being posted because i’m listening to the song rn however-

Imagine super conservative christian charming family with Chloe wearing a cross all the time and then Red and Chloe falling in love and then Chloe just REFUSES and gets her dorm changed and stops talking to Red entirely and then Red laying in bed crying listening to the song ‘secret love song part ll’ by little mix

they’re making me SICK guys

[ninii-winchester]

Chosen Affection

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word Count : 3.3k

Warnings : slight angst, language, Lucifer being Lucifer, soft smut at the end (nothing explicit) MDNI. Unedited.

Part 2 to Deepest Desire

A/n : This is a Supernatural x Lucifer crossover fic. I’ve only ever watched a few episodes of Lucifer. This is a work of fiction, I don’t own Supernatural or Lucifer. They belong to CW and Netlfix respectively.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

After talking with Sam, Y/n went back inside the bar and Dean followed silently. Chloe could tell Y/n had been crying and the tension was obvious. Lucifer eyed the couple, clearly enjoying the drama, which he created in the first place. Not intentionally but he did.

"I think it's best we get to the Bunker and see what we can do from there." Y/n told the other three, Dean opened his mouth to argue but she cut him off. "Sam agrees."

"The Bunker?" Chloe asked confusion lacing her voice.

"It's our workplace. We live there too." Y/n replied, Dean's heart squeezed the she didn't call it home. He knew it was far from homey but that's the closest thing they've had to a place of their own.

"Sounds fun." Lucifer said standing up from his seat.

The quartet left the bar. Dean watched as Y/n slid into the back seat of the Impala, he sighed before he made his way to the driver's seat. Lucifer slid into the passenger's seat while Chloe joined Y/n in the back. He watched her from the rear view mirror hoping to catch her eye but she never looked his way.

The drive back was awkward and tense. Dean couldn't bear the uncomfortable silence so stepped on the gas, wanting to reach their destination as soon as possible. They soon arrived at the Bunker and Dean opened the huge door allowing them to enter. The quartet descended the stairs and Y/n spotted Sam sitting at one of the tables in the library, his laptop opened in front of him.

Sam noticed the presence of other people, and looked away from the screen. He looked at the man in black suit with weary eyes, not feeling completely at ease in his presence. Chloe noticed his timidness and introduced herself.

"I'm Detective Chloe Decker." She held her hand for Sam to shake. "This is..uh my partner, Lucifer."

"Sam Winchester." He shook her hand and nodded at Lucifer who stood there with his hands in his pant pockets. That was so awkward that even, ever the friendly, Sam had a hard time clearing the air.

"Alright." Y/n broke the silence before she went crazy with all the palpable tension around the room. "We need to send them back home as soon as possible. Sam have you got anything yet?" She questioned walking towards him as he sat back on his chair.

"So I've been searching the internet for a way to open a portal to another universe and so far I've got anything." He explained running a hand through his hair. "Although I've yet to search the the files in the library."

"Yeah the Men of Letters might have key laying around here." Y/n commented with a roll of her eyes.

Sam noticed the lack of participation from his brother, he didn't fail to notice the distance between Dean and Y/n, it seemed as she was avoiding him at all costs.

"Is there anyway we can help?" Chloe asked from where she stood.

"Don't you want to rest a bit? I'm sure you're tired after being thrown into another universe." Y/n said softly.

"I already feel like we're asking too much from you people." Chloe replied bashfully. "We can help."

"Its fine-"

"Why don't you say it out right that you don't trust us with your precious files filled with important information." Lucifer interrupted Y/n with a smirk on his face.

"You know what, yes. I don't trust you. At all! So you shut your trap before I throw you in the dungeon alright?" Y/n snapped, directing all of her pent up anger towards Lucifer.

"And just who do you think you're talking to?" The devil asked menacingly, walking towards her. Dean was quick with his feet stepping in front of her, his gun pointing towards Lucifer.

"Don't you dare." Dean threatened.

The man just laughed before speaking, "is this your way of sucking up to her? It's quite pathetic if you ask me."

Sam's brow raised in confusion at his words, before things could get worse Chloe jumped in, "Lucifer, back off. Dean please put the gun down." Dean glared at Lucifer still pointing his gun at him. At Chloe's intervention Lucifer stepped back, prompting Dean to lower his gun. "It's best if we rest." Chloe looked at Y/n and she nodded.

"Dean will show you where you'll stay." Sam spoke, Dean gave him a look that said i-will? and the younger brother shrugged. When the others left the library Sam turned to Y/n. "So are you gonna tell me or I'm gonna have to play twenty questions with you?" She sighed before filling him in.

"It hurts, Sam." She felt herself tear up. Sam immediately went to comfort her. She sobbed in his chest as he held her. "After everything we've been through and it still wasn't enough..."

"Hey don't say that. Maybe you should talk to him, hear what he has to say." Sam suggested. She knew she had to face him sooner or later. "It's late, how about you go and get some rest, you came back from a hunt, must be tired." She nodded her head before leaving his embrace.

She left the library, walking through the hallways she debated whether she should go to their shared bedroom or to the room she stayed in before she moved in his'. That room hasn't been used in a long time. Before she knew it she was standing in front of their shared bedroom, her feet unintentionally dragged her there. She sighed before entering the room. After taking a quick shower she settled into bed. As tired as she was, she couldn't get her brain to keep repeated those moments from the bar.

"Amara" Dean's voice kept repeating that name in her head.

The door to the room opened, Dean entered the room as quietly as possible, assuming she's asleep. He'd gone to library and offered Sam to help but his younger brother told him he needed to be elsewhere and refused his offer politely. Dean's eyes landed her figure on the bed, eyes widen open staring at ceiling.

"Y/n." Dean called out approaching the bed slowly.

"Not now, Dean." She replied, unblinking.

Dean nodded before changing into comfortable clothes and slipping into bed. He knew she wouldn't be in here if she wasn't comfortable sharing a bed with him, however he kept his distance incase she didn't want him touching her. He knows she's hurting, but her ignorance is killing him and the last thing he needs is her pushing him away.

"Did they settle in okay?" Y/n questioned after a minutes of silence.

"Yeah." Dean replied. "Lucifer is a dick though." He added with an eye roll.

"He's the devil, what do you expect."

Minutes passed and none of them spoke, Y/n couldn't fall asleep for the life of her, she kept tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable. She wanted to hold him, she wanted him to hold her. She was too hurt to make a move and her ego was too big to ask him.

Noticing her restless Dean couldn't help but blurt out, "Can I hold you?" Part of him wanted her to get comfortable and part of him wanted to hold her in his arms since he couldn't ever sleep peacefully without her. He didn't know if he asked it for her sake or his own.

She scolded herself for being so eager to be in his arms but she couldn't help but nod her head. He didn't waste a second wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to his chest, so her back rested against it. He snuggled his face in the crook of her neck.

"I love you, sweetheart." He whispered in her ear, placing a soft kiss on her neck. She shuddered at his action and that was the first time in forever she didn't say it back.

Dean woke up to an empty bed. The clock read 2:27 and he shoved the covers off of him haphazardly and bolted out of the room. First thing that came to his mind that she left him. With hurried footsteps he reached the library, his eyes fell on Sam who was surrounded by files, books and empty beer bottles. His breathing picked up, Sam opened his mouth to question his brother but Y/n's voice interrupted him.

"Dean?" She called out his name, noticing his disheveled state. He turned around to see her standing at the entrance of the war room with two mugs of coffee in her hands. He didn't answer her, instead he took large steps towards her and hugged her tightly. Her arms were angled awkwardly and she somehow managed not to spill the scalding hot coffee over themselves. She sent Sam a confused look over Dean's shoulder and he shrugged, not knowing either.

"I thought you left." Dean mumbled in her shoulder.

"I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd help Sam." Dean nodded before pulling away. An awkward silence followed after. She walked over to Sam putting a mug in front of him.

"Did you guys find something?" Dean asked following behind and her taking a seat.

"Actually we did. There's a few ways to open a portal. There's energy manipulation, magic ritual, or using an ancient artefact or finding a weak spot." Sam explained taking a sip of his coffee.

"But we don't have ingredients for a magic ritual and we certainly do not have the specific artefact." Y/n commented.

"So either energy manipulation or finding a weak spot?" Dean questioned looking at her.

"Maybe but considering Lucifer has to absorb energy from a volcano or a thunderstorm, I don't think it's safe to let him juice up." She replied with a concerned voice.

"Agreed." Sam said rubbing his eyes. "Our best bet is finding a weak spot. From there he can open a portal by using his own powers saying this incantation." Sam turned his screen towards his brother.

"So were do find this 'weak spot'?" The older Winchester wondered out loud.

"It's usually around places like deep woods, ruins or caves. Lucifer can sense it since he has powers." Y/n answered.

"So let's do it." Dean said getting up.

"Wait, now?" Y/n exclaimed.

"Yeah now." Sam agreed with Dean. "The sooner he goes back, the better."

Y/n nodded in understanding, she told them she'd go and get Lucifer and Chloe while the Winchester brothers geared up. Y/n quickly changed and met up with the others. They'd decided to go to the forest. It took them three hours to reach their destination. They got out of the Impala and ventured into the woods.

"Thank you for helping us Y/n." Chloe said as they continued to trek through the dark forest.

"That’s what we do but you’re welcome." She smiled at the blonde. The three men walked ahead of them Sam and Dean constantly asking Lucifer if he felt anything. And the devil kept giving them snippy replies.

"You know.." Chloe started gaining Y/n's attention. "I may not know you all for long but I'm observant. You're good people. I can see Dean truly loves you, whatever he said back there it hurt him too." She said looking at Y/n. It sure felt like the detective knew what she was talking about. "You should give him a chance to explain." Y/n mumbled a quiet 'yeah' with nod.

"This is it." Lucifer said loudly. "I can feel it." He held his arm up feeling up an open space.

"Alright, now channel your powers and focus on the spot. Think of the place you want to go. Your world." Lucifer did as Sam told him to.  Sam handed Lucifer a piece of paper. "Now say this." They could see a split forming above them and bright light emerging from it.

"Ad universum alterum patefacio, vires

invoco. Portalem aperire, vires occultas evocare. Tempus et spatium frangere, iter transire concedere." Lucifer read out loud and the five of them watched in awe as a portal finally opened.

A strong wind roared through the landscape, its force palpable and relentless. Trees bent and swayed, their leaves and branches rustling loudly as they were whipped around. The air was filled with the sound of howling gusts, the sheer strength of the wind created an atmosphere of raw, untamed energy.

"Holy fucking-" Y/n exclaimed, Dean instinctively moving in front of her.

Lucifer breathed heavily, panting as he stood back.   

"Alright. You ready to go back?" Lucifer asked Chloe and she nodded. She quickly hugged Y/n and thanked Sam and Dean.

"I have to say, you three really are something." Lucifer said with a smirk. "And I thank you for your help." He added. The three of them nodded.

They watched as Lucifer and Chloe jumped into the portal and it closed as soon as they fell through. The wind stopped and the light was gone. Sighs of relief were heard in the complete silence of the forest.

"Felt weird being thanked by the devil." Y/n chuckled as they walked back to the car.

"You're telling me." Sam added.

Dean was silent the whole ride back to the Bunker. The sun has already risen, the world felt calm and serene, filled with a promise of a new day. Y/n hoped this new day brings her some peace. When they reached to the Bunker Dean left the car without saying a word.

“You’re gonna talk to him?” Sam asked looking worried. He knew now that Dean didn’t have something to focus on, his mind would be all over the place.

“Yeah.” She replied walking inside. When she opened the door to their shared bedroom she saw Dean sitting on the edge of the bed. He had something is his hands but quickly hid it when he noticed her, though he fiddling with a set of keys in his hands. She took smalls steps and sat beside him. A few seconds passed in silence when Dean chuckled humourlessly,

“You know,” he started, “I was waiting for so long, I didn’t want it to go this way.” She looked at him, confusion written all over her face. “I thought I’d do it when you’d come back from that hunt, take you out somewhere fancy, dinner and all.”

“Dean-”

“I bought us a house.” He interrupted her. He showed the keys that were in his hands. “I thought I’d tell you after I’d ask you, and you’d hopefully say yes, we’ll start a new life. You, me our kids. Together. No more monsters, no more hunting.” Her heart rate picked up, “I should’ve known better though, when has anything gone the way we’ve wanted it.” He moved to kneel in front of her holding her hands in his.

“She,” Dean grimaced, “her and I were bound because of the mark, the mark may have gone from my arm but it’s has left something behind, it’s an urge. I don’t desire her at all, not her physical self anyway. It’s something I don’t like admitting out loud but there’s something in me that’s dark and sometimes it makes me want to do things that I did when I had that mark.” She let out a gasp at his confession.

“Dean I had no idea.” A few tears escaped her eyes.

“But you know what keeps me sane? You.” He cupped her cheek in his hand wiping away her tears. “You’re my light, you vanish all the darkness inside of me. You’re the one I want, you’re the one I crave. You’re the one that makes me want to be better. I’m not bound to you, you’re a conscious choice sweetheart. Everyday, every second you’re the one I want.” He grabbed something from beside her, she hadn’t even notice it was there all the time. She gasped again when she saw what it was, a small velvet box.

“Y/n, sweetheart, I love you, I always have and I always will. I know I’ve hurt you baby, but if you give me this one chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I desire you. Will you marry me?”

She couldn’t believe what she heard, did he just say he’s giving up hunting? Getting a house? Getting married? Kids?

“You, Dean Winchester, has decided to quit hunting?” She questioned, thinking somehow she’s didn’t hear him right.

“Yeah,” he chuckled through tears. “And hopefully spend the rest of my life with you, Mrs. Winchester, if you would.” He gestured to the ring in his hand.

“I like the sound of that.” She teased with a smile on her face.

“So will you?” He asked again, not believing her until she says it out loud.

“Yes Dean, I’ll marry you.” He didn’t waste a second slipping the ring on her finger.

“I love you so much.” He pressed his lips to her, kissing ber softly, pouring all of his love into it. Their lips moved in perfect sync, a soft brush sent shivers down their spines. Time seemed to slow, and the world around them faded into a blur. The warmth of their breath mingled, and the closeness created a cocoon of shared emotion. The gentle pressure and the delicate movement of their lips, created a bond that felt both timeless and immediate.

“I love you too, Dean.” She panted as they pulled apart. “I won’t lie, I was hurt pretty badly when you said that. But I had no idea where it came from and it made me insecure. I thought you wanted her.” She spoke lowly as if sharing a secret.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I shouldn’t have kept it from you, but after everything, I didn’t want you to worry. You’d finally had some peace.”

“I understand but from now on, no more secrets okay? I want you to be open with me, yeah?”

“I promise.” He kissed her again, laying her back on the bed. He hovered above her, his hands placed on either side of her head. She let out a soft moan as he kissed her neck and moved to her collarbone. “Let me make love to you, baby.”

She nodded, pulling him back up, kissing him passionately. “Show me how much you love me.” He gently pulled her shirt over her head, and she gripped at his’, indicating she wanted it off and he quickly removes it. It didn’t take long for them to get rid of all their clothing, leaving them completely naked.

He dragged his fingers delicately over her cheek, down her neck and chest. She flipped them over making him lay on his back. She bit his neck, nibbling and leaving dark purple hickeys. She moved to his chest, kissing her way down to his stomach before she could go any further he stopped her.

“Later, baby. I need to feel you.” Dean flipped them over again. He watched her flushed face, leaning on his one arm, he reached a hand between their bodies and gripped himself, leading himself to her. They moaned in unison as he penetrated her. “Fuck baby.” He groaned in her neck.

Moans and groans filled the room as they continue to loose themselves into heated passion. Wrapped up in each others embrace, bare skin pressed together, their hearts beating in unison. Coming undone together basking in the aftershocks of their passionate love making they laid entwined in the soft sheets, their breaths slowly synchronized, a comfortable silence enveloped them. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a sound that had become her lullaby.

Tags:

@fullbelieverheart @spnfamily-j2 @n-o-p-e-never @montyrokz @deangirl96