#for context the first time i fainted n got fucked in the mines

[norymal]

would you forgive me if i said i liked clint …

[beauleifu]

Hello! Can you write a oneshot or a headcanon (platonic, ofc) about Macaque with a reserved but also very outgoing child? (like those kids that are calm and reserved but if you mention something they really like they just go off and start rambling all happy and excited)

I had this idea in my head for a little while, I think it'd be really funny and wholesome if he just appeared at Pigsy's Noodles w/ his child and everyone's like "wh- YOU'RE A DAD??? WHEN??? HOW????" and he just watches with that Tired Parent Look™ as his kid stares directly at MK and goes "YOU'RE THAT MONKIE GUY ON THE TV!!!"

Sorry for any errors! English is not my first language, I apologize for the long text aswell, I'm just an absolute sap for the "tired but loving dad" trope also you can totally delete my ask or skip it if you don't want to write it!! Thank you either way, your writing is wonderful :) !

All right! *cracks fingers, snaps neck- whoops-*

You got it anon! Sorry for not answering this ask sooner, I realized headcanons are easier to write than an actual oneshot considering the limited time I have to write nowadays. But I hope you enjoy, and thanks for the ask! <333

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MACAQUE X CHILD!READER

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: Long ago, a wise old monkey had taken you under his wing, to train you and teach you the ways- okay, let's save the theatrics for later, that's Macaque's thing. Your father figure. Honestly, he's growing on you, and it's starting to show now that people are pointing it out.

TW: None!

HEADCANNONS

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Macaque doesn't normally take you somewhere where conflict is bound to arise. He'd prefer someplace more peaceful, like a park/museum/theater. Unless, of course, he's in the mood for adventure and will literally take you skydiving without a permit.

Totally the irresponsible dad. He's protective as FUCK, let's make that clear, but in the end he trusts you to take care of yourself

perhaps a bit too much, and even you think that

He'll encourage you to pet that snake

He'll give you the thumbs up if you wanted to climb to the top of the weather tower during a thunderstorm

Like "Go get 'em, (Y/N)! Make your father proud!"

With such a dramatic character when it comes to encouraging you, Macaque will become insanely tired. He'll be snoring on the couch and won't wake up even if you stacked all the furniture in the house on his back

Speaking of the house, he and you live far away from any danger

This guy didn't know jack shit about being a dad at first (you kind of hat to teach him, oh how the turns have tabled) But once he understood the basics, he took the reins, eager to impress you and earn your respect. Macaque isn't usually a sucker for developing any relationship with Earthly figures, but you were the only exception. He'd lay awake at night thinking if he's making the right choice, then slapping himself for even considering abandoning you. You are too precious.

Which is why he's totally, utterly wrapped around your little finger

So when you ask to get take-out at Pigsy's Noodles, it doesn't take much effort to sway his stoic resolve

"Dad. Pops. Papa. Father of mine," you say, grabbing his face, looking a lot older than you actually are. "Please!"

Since Macaque can't turn his face to the side (squished as it is), he sighs dramatically and closes his eyes. You catch the faint, irritated twitch of his tail, but that's about the only hint of Fed-Up Parent you can detect.

"(Y/N), Megapolis is miles away."

"You have shadow magic!"

"You can't just abuse my powers, especially now that you've decided to abuse yours," he grunts, albeit grinning at you. He' loosing.

Triumph fills your chest. "I can handle it! Uncle Pigsy would love to see me!"

"Uncle!?" Macaque splutters, finally escaping your grip. Shocked eyes blink down at you. "Sweetheart, you haven't even met Pigsy, you've only seen him from afar."

You blink up, flaunting those devil-may-care puppy eyes.

Oh, he hates it when you do that.

"Puh-lease! I'll do anything! i'll scratch your back! Do my chores before games! I-I'll stay out of your secret stash of peaches!" You gasp, flopping down on the soft carpet lining the floor. You consider the intricate pattern for a moment, then mutter under your breath; "Even though you said you hate those. . . ."

Macaque fixes you with a stern look. "You know about that, huh?"

"Mayyybe."

Like I said, not that much effort. The guy may be invulnerable to harm at best, but his immortality falls short under your tactics. Persuasive skills that he taught you to use.

Sucks how plans backfire, huh?

When you two do get to the shop, however, Macaque goes into full parent-mode

He doesn't care if you think it's uncool, you're holding his hand and that's that. He'd get you one of those child harnesses but thank the stars you'd convinced him you're worth more than such a humiliating child-control device.

So in you go, holding hands, Macaque glaring at anyone who spares you a curious glance.

When Macaque sees who's at the counter, he almost does a 180 out of there

It's MK.

Of all people.

He hasn't seen the two of you yet, though. You feel Macaque's paw tighten over your small, nimble fingers, and you can't help but squeeze back in return, asking a silent question.

It's times like these where you don't know what to do. You're still a child, even if this was your idea.

But then you spot who's at the counter

and At the same time, Pigsy comes 'round the corner with a giant tray of noodles- fit for the exact number of people surrounding the Monkie Kid. Suddenly, Macaque realizes who all is there.

This guy

Parent-Panic-Pro

The literal Monkey King is the first to turn head, eyes landing on Macaque first. You can tell instantly his fight-or-flight response just kicked in; shoulders tensing, teeth baring, eyes widening (oh yes, typical ex behavior- HAHA)

Then, all heads are turning.

And Monkey King's eyes land on you

Macaque steps in front of you, form tense and on high alert. "Heyyyy," he says, awkwardly.

The Monkey King tilts his head, perhaps confused as to why his old friend is protecting a little kid. Then he realizes. Poor guy connects the dots, lets out an unholy gasp of astonishment, and points and the both of you

"YOU. YOU- AND THEM- MACISTHATYOURKID-"

Pandemonium.

At least, in the most gentle context. MK and his friends do a double take, the Monkey King is gaping and trying to figure out who could ever love Macaque to result in this- and your dad just completely gives up. He gives you this look, like 'see why I was against bringing you here'

And you know. And your eyes say sorry, that you'll make it up to him later

Typical silent father/child communicating

(you guys are really good at that, communicating through your eyes or expressions. it helps in crowds)

That is, until your eyes fall on MK and realize for the first time that he's actually there

And Macaque's face falls into an impossibly disappointed facade (really, he's happy you're socializing) as you let go of his hand and prance right up to MK, eyes literal stars.

Thank goodness for MK, for he's kind and patient enough to let you blabble and gush on about how cool he is and how you've stayed up to date on the latest chaos he's incited (poor dude looks a bit downcast at that)

Funny how you went to such a well-behaved, shy kid to an energetic hyper-fixated gremlin in two seconds

All the while, Pigsy is listening, Monkey King corners Macaque and quietly demands answers (the two of them talk in the background for awhile as you socialize)

Noodles are served

There's just so many people in Pigsy's Noodles that the owner himself couldn't keep track of who ordered what, so everyone just got the same thing- and lots of it

In the end, you're all sitting down at the table (everyone had worked together to gather as many spare tables/chairs as possible to sit together at one huge-ass table)

You insisted you sit with Mei and MK in order to interrogate them about their adventures

OF course, you mean well, and they know that. And Macaque never pulls you aside because he likes seeing you like this, it makes him happy knowing you're indulging in the things you love, and he deosn't have the heart to tell you it's almost time to go home.

So you stay there for awhile, chatting with Mk and his friends

You get to know Pigsy (he doesn't mind being called your uncle, said at this point he's practically everyone's uncle or dad)

But alas

You're bit a child

And towards the end of the night, aftter everyone is stuffed full of noodles, you're conked out in your chair, slumped and snoring softly, eyes fluttering from dreaming

Everyone glances at you, how fucking adorable you are

Macaque straightens, clears his throat, says it's time for him to leave

Sun Wukong stops him for a moment, just to say

"Keep them safe, Mac."

Of course, like the #1 Dad he is, Macaque snorts. "I think I know more about raising a kid than you do, Wukong. I'll . . . see you out there."

Then he picks you up, carefully, so you stay sleeping, and walks out

but not before turning around to thank everyone for dinner

For once, they offer smiles (some are weaker and less meaningful than others, but props for trying. Macaque is kinda responsible for a lot of pain in their lives, anyways)

You don't register any of it, too full of noodles and new information regarding your idols

Macaque knows he'll never hear the end of it

Perhaps that's a good thing, considering the fond smile on his face as he gently carries you home, lays you in bed, and pulls the covers over your snoring form. He eagerly awaits the morning to which you'll wake him up excitedly ranting about tonight, about how you want to do it again

And he's wrapped around your little finger, so if course he'll listen to you

this guy would move the world for you

[illmaticreid]

Fire & Desire - Part 1

DESRIPTION: Alexandra meets an older guy at a club, and realizes he is hot, rich, and kind of sweet. What more could a girl ask for? 

Word Count: 1.8k - short & sweet, just to get to know the characters. 

TW: some sexual tension and a small fight, talking about consuming alcohol.

A/N; HI!! This is the story I was talking about the other day when I mentioned a sugar daddy fic. The main focus isn’t the fact that he is a sugar daddy, he just happens to be a lil old and rich lol. This is not a reader insert!! I apologize, it’s just so much easier have an oc. Anyways, Enjoy!!! <3

~

The music coming from the speakers of the club flowed through me as I danced in between a group of people on the dance floor. I came with some friends to let loose for the night. I had lost them a while ago, trying to do my own thing.  

I wasn't familiar with any of the people I was dancing with, but as long as no one got too handsy, I would be fine. Apparently, I spoke too soon. Just as the thought went through my head, I felt someone grabbing onto my waist.

I turned around and faced this admittedly attractive stranger, and shoved him away from me. Cute or not, I would never want to dance with someone who just put their hands all over random people in a club.

"Get off of me," I spoke over the loud music.

"What if I don't want to?" He asked.

"I don't fucking care," I yelled this time.

I turned around to walk away and find my friends. I thought I made it clear that I didn't want to dance, but I guess he couldn't take a hint. I felt his hand grab my wrist and pull me back to him. Talking wasn't working, so I pulled my hand from his grasp and punched him in the face.

The alcohol in my system must have been making me more confident than I really was. I have never punched someone in my life. I felt as though this asshole deserved it. He clearly didn't think so though, because as soon as he recovered from my punch, I felt a fist come right back into my face.

I cried out as I fell onto the floor, and watched him walk away. He didn't get very far before two of the bouncers from the club grabbed him and took him somewhere into the back.

I felt many eyes just staring at me as I lay there on the floor, and not a single hand reached out to me. How kind of them. Out of nowhere, there was a hand wrapped around me, helping me back onto my feet.

"I'm sorry, I was going to intervene, but I didn't think he was going to punch you," the voice spoke.

"It's okay, it's um, not your fault," I stuttered back. I don't know if it was because I just got the shit beat out of me or this man was really just breathtaking, but I felt my brain turn to mush.

"Well, I had been watching you, seeing what you would do to him. Nice punch by the way," He smiled at me, trying to lighten the situation. He put his arm under the back of my legs and picked me up.

"Um, excuse me? Where are we going? I have a dress on, my ass is probably hanging out right now," I spoke loudly. A strange, but a very good looking man was whisking me away, and all I could think about was flashing everyone. He could kidnap me for all I know.

"My arm is covering your ass, I promise none of your genitalia is hanging out," He said sternly.

"My genitalia," I mocked and let out a giggle. There goes the alcohol talking again. He didn't laugh with me. I looked up at him and saw long curly hair framing his face. He had some light stubble, but nothing crazy. We continued to walk through the club and I realized, I am not even questioning the stranger kidnapping me.

"Sorry to interrupt your hero moment, but where are you taking me?" I asked.

"I think you have a concussion. You're screaming and my face is only about a foot away from yours. You might have some hearing loss. Also, I am taking you upstairs," the stranger spoke sternly again.

Upstairs? What does that even mean? Does this guy own this place?

Nevertheless, I shut my mouth as he climbed a flight of stairs with me in his arms, and walked into an office. I couldn't help but feel the sexual tension between us. Only I would get punched in the face, and then also worry about having sex with someone within a 5-minute time frame.

He set me onto a desk and walked into another room. He came back quickly with some ice wrapped in a towel.

"Thank you," I whispered as he put the ice on my cheekbone. I winced at the cold.

"I'm sorry. Your leg is also bleeding, I am assuming it's from the fall," The man said quietly, almost under his breath, as if I wasn't there.

I looked down at my leg and saw a small cut and blood dripping down my calf onto my shoes.

"Oh no! My fucking shoes!" I yelled before hastily ripping them off, as to not get any more blood on them.

"That's okay, I will buy you another pair," He said in the same tone.

"What? No. You can't just buy me another pair of shoes. I don't even know you. Hell, I don't even know your name," I yelled again. I think he was right about the hearing loss.

"My apologies, I am Dr. Spencer Reid," Spencer said.

Butterflies whirled around in my stomach as soon as he said Doctor.

"Fuck," I whispered, not holding back the fact that I was completely turned on.

"What was that?" Spencer asked, with a slight smirk on his face. He had been very monotone this whole time, I was wondering if he was even real.

"Um, nothing. My name is Alexandra. You're a doctor?" I asked.

"Not that kind of doctor. I have 3 PhDs, along with 3 BAs," Spencer said nonchalantly. I almost fainted.

I might as well rip up my degree and throw it in the trash because I felt like such an idiot next to him. Spencer took the ice off my face and reached into his desk to grab a bandaid.

"Can you lay back before me?" He asked and started to clear some stuff off the desk. God, I would love to hear those words in a different context.  I laid back anyways, ignoring the dirty thoughts in my head.

Spencer gently placed his hand on my leg to lift it onto the desk. I felt him lightly wipe the blood away with another towel. His touch was so delicate and light, I almost didn't feel it.

He opened the bandaid up, and tenderly placed it onto my leg. Spencer made sure it was on securely before he slowly placed a light kiss over the bandaid. I gripped the desk so hard my knuckles started to turn white. I squeezed my legs shut tighter, as I thought about all the dirty things I wanted him to do to me.

Spencer grabbed my hand and helped lift me back onto my feet. He grabbed my shoes and tried to clean them off a little, before putting them onto my feet. I felt like Cinderella as he tied the strap around my ankle, making sure everything was secure.

"Thank you, for taking care of me," I said meekly.

"How is your face?" He asked. Truthfully, it felt okay, but I didn't want to leave him just yet.

"It feels awful, my head is pounding. I think you were right about the concussion," I milked my injuries.

"Surely you can't drive home, I will take you," Spencer said and put his hand out towards mine. I grabbed it and we walked downstairs, out towards a back entrance.

"What is going to happen to that guy?" I asked.

"Oh, is he probably going to spend a night in jail. Do you want to press charges?" Spencer asked with his serious tone again.

"You sound like a cop," I giggled as we walked out into the parking lot.

"You're so silly. I'm not a cop. I'm an FBI Agent," Spencer laughed. My face went blank, and I stuttered incoherently.

"How? You look so young," I said stupidly. God, I was gonna ruin it with the hottest guy I have ever seen just because of my dumb mouth.

"Well, thank you, Alexandra. Sadly, I am 36."

As the words left Spencer's mouth, I became even more flustered and tripped on a crack in the road. I felt myself start to fall face-first into the floor like the clumsy person I am. Two hands grabbed me when I was just a couple of inches away from the pavement. I was lifted into's Spencer's chest.

His face was so close to mine, I could feel his breath wash over me. I closed my eyes and just basked in the ambiance of how perfect this feeling was. He smelled like mint and soap, with a hint of luxury.

"You should be more careful, Alexandra," Spencer whispered, still holding onto me. I didn't even try to form a sentence, because I knew I wouldn't be able to. The way my name rolled off of his tongue sounded delicious. Spencer's voice sounded like silk. How could he be 15 years older than me? How was this ever going to work?

Our moment came to an end as he propped me back onto my feet, and continued to hold my hand, and walk with me.

We walked up to a matte black Lamborghini SUV. My jaw felt like it was completely unhinged. This man was dirty fucking rich. No wonder he said he would buy me new shoes.

Spencer walked around the car and opened the door for me.

"Thank you, sir," I giggled. I said it jokingly, but then I caught a look flash in Spencer's eyes. I couldn't tell if it was angry or turned on. Or maybe both. He mumbled under his breath and closed the door behind me.

The car ride to my apartment was silent, besides me giving him directions. I felt slightly uncomfortable and almost sad. I didn't want to leave him.

"Here I am," I said quietly as we pulled up to the apartment complex.

"Thank you for taking me home. And um, taking care of me," I spoke again. It hurt to open the door, and walk away, but I did it anyway.

"Goodbye, Alexandra," Spencer's sultry voice said. God, he was making this terribly hard. I waved goodbye to him and walked inside. I felt his eyes staring holes into the back of my head. Spencer's car didn't take off until I was completely inside. What a gentleman.

When I got upstairs to my unit, I went to sleep immediately. As you could imagine, my dreams were filled with Spencer Reid. Not just regular Spencer Reid dreams. Sex filled Spencer Reid dreams. I was going to hell.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Erik and reader getting involved only to find out that he’s really crazy. “Boy next door” I’m obsessed with you type of crazy.

Cingulomania

(Sing-gyoo-Loh-may-nee-uh)

A strong desire to hold a person in your arms.

Ineffable;

(a.) too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.

Lacuna

(n.) a blank space, a missing part.

——————

He was perceived as familiar, approachable, and dependable, typically in the context of a romantic relationship. He didn’t try to stand out in a crowd or be the center of attention but he still shined. But then...he was orphic; mysterious and entrancing; beyond ordinary understanding.

Y/N first met Erik at a poetry reading. She came with her friends and he came alone. Although it was their first time meeting, she could have sworn she’s seen him before. Maybe, they crossed paths on the train home, or maybe they lived within the same area. Sitting alone at that table, eyes focused on the person who recites their poetry, Y/N couldn’t help but to stare at him, hoping that he would notice. After a round of snaps from everyone, she looked back over at him, his eyes connecting with hers like a magnet. She gave him a faint smile before turning away.

Y/N didn’t understand the way the simple interaction ignited his soul. He’d been wanting her to do that for a long time. Ever since he first saw her on the train, the smell of blueberries in her hair and cocoa butter on her skin. Erik would position himself behind her every train ride so that he could discreetly smell her or feel her warmth against his. He was obsessed with a woman he didn’t even know personally. So obsessed that he even figured out where she lived. Park Slope, Brooklyn. The outside of her apartment painted a brick red. She lived on the second level providing a spot on view for him to admire her. This was his regular thing after work, standing across the street for hours just watching her.

It was as if his fate was set. He had to approach her now that she finally looked at him with interest. Finally, she was going to be his and only his. He could claim her properly, smell her any chance he got, touch and kiss all over her beautiful frame. What surprised him after the poetry event was that she approached him first. At the bar, she walked up to him, Erik trying his best to act natural.

“You come to these often? I’ve never seen you here before.”

She sounded like heaven itself.

“First time. Figured I’d come and support since there are a lot of talented black people here tonight.”

“Did you come alone?”

You know I did, he thought to himself.

“Yes,” he looked down at her, “didn’t have anybody to go with.”

She had this mesmerizing look in her eyes. The same look he would give her and she didn’t even know the effect she had on him. Y/N drove him crazy.

“I’m Y/N,” she says, reaching out to shake his hand. Erik takes it, feeling nothing but the soft smooth skin of her palm. His eyes trailed from the gold tennis bracelet around her wrist and up her arm where a small tattoo of a famous poetry quote resides. He memorized those words already. That’s how much he’d paid close attention to her.

“Figured I should introduce myself just in case you wanted to come with me to one of these things instead of by yourself.”

“What makes you think I would want to?” He teased.

“I’m not convinced by that at all. I have a feeling you would.”

You don’t know the half of it, girl, he thought.

“Oh, I would...” he leans in towards her face, his lips mere centimeters away from hers. The Cupid’s bow of her upper lip and the way her bottom lip pouts always drove him wild.

“And I’m Erik.” He gave her a lopsided grin.

“Erik...” she spoke in a honeyed tone, “I like the way that rolled off my tongue.”

He didn’t need that thought. It only made him think about fucking her with his name rolling off her tongue in between moans. She was very lucky that he had complete control at the moment over his actions. If he didn’t, he would have ripped off that little black dress and spread her legs over that bar stool she was currently seated on.

“You’ll like it even more if you let me take you home.”

————————

Present Day:

Erik: Y/N? Where are you?

Erik: why aren’t you answering your phone?

Erik: I called you like five times. You know I don’t like it when you ignore me.

She stared at her phone from her desk. This was becoming ridiculous... and scary. He was becoming suffocating to the point of death. She couldn’t even go to work without calling her phone, sending her pictures of his naked body, and nasty texts. Now, he was pissed off because she was busy that she ignored his advances. It wasn’t her fault that her job had a no phone policy put in place now because client emails were being ignored.

Her phone vibrated loudly against the surface of her cubical desk. She sighed with frustration, excusing herself to go to the employee bathroom. She chose the one where only one person could occupy it, locking the door and turning on the sink. Y/N picks up the phone.

“Erik you know I am at work why are you blowing up my phone! I told you I can’t be on my phone at work! You want me to loose my job?”

“Hello to you too, beautiful,” he says with a spiteful tone, “and don’t fucking raise your voice at me! You remember what happened the last time?”

She couldn’t forget. The sex was psychotic. Y/N woke up with scratches and bite marks all over her.

“You are taking things too seriously, Erik. You can’t act like this I have a life too.”

“But you don’t need to work. I can support you. That’s why I need you to move in with me.”

Y/N couldn’t begin to describe how pressed Erik was for her to move in with him. She loved him but right now they had some things to work out before their relationship ended.

“Hello?” He spoke.

“I don’t know about that, Erik.”

“Why? Don’t you love me?”

She couldn’t stand when he did that.

“Of course I do, but..”

“But what?!! There shouldn’t be a but if you love me Y/N. I love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

She looked around the restroom, a nervous feeling circulated her belly.

“Maybe we should talk about this later, okay? I got some work that needs to be finished. Dinner? My place?”

“Nah, lets do it at mine this time around.”

She blanched.

“Erik, we always do it at your place...”

“You don’t want to be there or something?”

He could go from sweet to evil in a matter of seconds. No, she honestly didn’t want to be at his place. If she did, he would beg her to stay or MAKE her stay and then she would never go back home. She couldn’t even breath in her own skin. Y/N couldn’t even remember what she smelled like because everything that surrounded her reminded her of Erik. It was as if he was non verbally telling her that she was his and only his.

“I just have things to do around the house that’s all.”

He went silent, Y/N chewing on her bottom lip.

“...fine. We can do your place.”

She quietly let out a sigh of relief.

“Great, I can cook for you and we can have movie night.”

“Can you wear that little black slip dress you wore when we first met eachother? You know how much I love that on you, Y/N.”

“Erik, you always make me wear that,” she complained.

“So? It’s my favorite. I want you to wear it...no panties...no bra...just the dress.”

A knock came to the bathroom door, startling her.

“E, I gotta go, okay? I’ll see you later.”

“OKay, see you soon babe.” He gave her a round of kiss through the phone before hanging up.

—————

She figured she could make some Cajun shrimp pasta since she had all the ingredients at home. Entering her building, she checked her mail slot, finding it empty. It used to have flowers almost every Wednesday from Erik but he stopped doing that once she explained to him that she didn’t have enough vases to hold all the roses and gardenias. Taking out her key, Y/N opens her door, the vision of Erik standing before her with his hands in his jeans pockets. Before she could even express how she felt about him being at her place before the scheduled time AND unannounced, he scoops her up, twirling her and kissing her with a whole lot of tongue. She leans away from him, trying her best not to appear annoyed with him.

“I thought dinner would be this evening?”

He didn’t even bother responding. He had his face buried in her neck, smelling her with loud sniffs and squeezing her waist tightly. Y/N looked worried, bringing her hands up to cradle his face, making him look at her.

“You smell so...good...”

“...thank you. Erik,”

“I wanted to suprise you.”

She gave him a perplexed look, “how did you get a key?”

Erik bit down on his lower lip, taking his thumb to stroke her cheek, “I got one made for me to use whenever I needed it. Figured since your mines I can come and go as I please, you agree?”

No, she didn’t. Y/N slips out of his hold, walking to her living room to remove her heels. Erik brushes up against her, startling her. She could feel him unzipping her skirt.

“Babe, I just got home,” she whines.

“And I haven’t seen you all day...I need you. I need what’s mines.”

“Right this minute?” She questioned with annoyance, “I’m tired and I expected to take a nap before you got here.”

“You can still take one, and I can watch you sleep.”

All of these signs made her believe he was greatly obsessed with her. Overly needy and a damn psycho when he didn’t get his way.

“We need to talk...” she turns to him.

“About you moving in with me? Yeah, let’s talk about that.”

Erik pulls her down and over his lap. She straddled him but that position wasn’t right for the topic of conversation. How dare he look at her with those brown eyes.

“We should take a break.”

The brown in his eyes fogged with an eerie black. Even though his eyes looked enraged, the stroke of his finger tips on her back was comforting.

“You wanna break up with me?”

“No-no, just take a little time away from eachother. I can see my friends and family,”

“But you have me. I’m enough to be all that for you.”

“Babe, are you hearing yourself?”

“Loud and fucking clear,” he clenched his jaw, “Are you...are you sick of me or something?”

“I just think that we need some time apart. You’re... I just don’t want you to get so overworked because of me.”

It didn’t matter how sweet she sounded. She wanted a break from him for however long that would be. His resolve slipped and the palpable attraction he had to her couldn’t be ignored for days and days.

“You know what breaks lead to, right?”

She sat very still over his lap.

“It means you get used to me not being around, and then you start enjoying that...a little too much.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,”

“Shut up while I’m talking!!!!!”

He scared her with just his tone alone. His face softens, eye brows knitted together with worry while his hands grabbed her hips. Y/N swallows spit, waiting for him to say something.

“You want a break to do what? See other people? You are mines, Y/N. I knew that the very first time I laid eyes on you.”

Erik didn’t know if Y/N had other men trying to talk to her. He had such a close watch on her like he was a damn P.I that he was certain she wasn’t cheating or other men were begging to be with her. Guys would look though, that didn’t bother him too much because he knew the effect his woman could have on people. Women and men. Look at him, he was head over heels and ready to kill for her. There was the guy who lived above her but as far as Erik knew he was gay. Then, there was an ex of hers who didn’t get the memo everytime he texted her phone. In the beginning when that happened, Erik made sure to link Y/N’s texts and email notifications through his phone to keep a secret eye on her. Sure enough, they were having conversations, nothing sexual just too friendly. That was her fucking ex. She wasn’t allowed to talk to her ex. Erik took care of it, she hadn’t heard from him in about two months now.

“Not every break means go and see other people, Erik.” She rolled her eyes at him. Erik grabs her chin hard, making her look at him. She glared down into those now black eyes.

“But when they don’t see you on my arm, then they want something. C’mere, let me show you something to remind you,”

Erik lifts her up, carrying her to her bedroom. Opening the door, he walks in dropping Y/N on the bed.

“This is another reason why I came early. Look up,”

She does, a look of pure shook on her face. Their was a huge black and white photo of them both having sex, framed and all, positioned on her ceiling. The position he had her in...this was the first time they had sex. Erik wanted to use a camera to record the memorabilia and she agreed. Back then, she was all for this affection and admiration from him. Now, it was like she’d been buried alive. Lungs filling up with dirt.

“Something to remember.” He smiles wide, this longing look on his face, “I can remember that night in detail Y/N.”

“Erik, please, stop.”

She couldn’t look at him without seeing that damn photo.

“Weed after sex.” He closed his eyes, most likely remembering the chill moment under his covers while the both of them talked about anything.

“I licked it, so it’s mines. You’re especially gorgeous when I look up from between your legs.”

It was as if he were created to seduce and destroy. This wasn’t some demonic contract where she signed over the rights to her soul.

“That’s enough, just stop it,” she lifts from the bed, ready to run away from this. It was maddening.

“Where are you going?!!!!”

He beat her to the door, slamming it shut. She backs away, fear on her face and eyes watering.

“You’re not leaving me, Y/N. You’re frustrated baby? Let’s work that shit out. Take all that sexual frustration out on me, please...and thank you.”

“It’s not sexual, Erik, it’s literal frustration. I am suffocating!!!!”

“No you’re not.” He wasn’t convinced. It was as if his brain was wired to believe that it wasn’t.

“You are driving me insane!!!” She wanted to throw something at him.

“Why are you talking to me like this?” He looked defeated. He started bringing his hands to his chest, shaking his head while stepping closer. The back of her legs hit the side of the bed.

“I thought you loved me? I thought what we had was special and you...”

He was between her legs now, reaching out to grab her up against him. He brought his face close to hers, his lips pressed into her cheek.

“You give me the craziest urges,” he laughs, but the laugh wasn’t him...

“Urges?” To do what exactly?

“Wanting a break from me is only gonna make me want you more and more.”

This was a never ending loop. She thought about hiding out at her families but she was certain Erik knew where they lived.

“Urges to do WHAT?”

He played with the hem of her skirt.

“Like...kill for you.”

Y/N suddenly thought about her ex. She hadn’t heard a word from him in a while and just yesterday his sister had called her asking about him. Y/N was still close with his family. Her ex used to say that he would die for her and kill for her too but the way Erik said it...he said it like he was used to this type of thing. Like it was a regular thing to just kill someone.

“Erik...what did you do?”

He froze, looking up at her with a glint in his eyes.

“What wouldn’t I do for you?”

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[desticuleconfessions]

hey desticule. so i have a supernatural-themed girl best friends story that i’ve wanted to share for a long time, especially because none of my irl friends ever rly understood the gravity of this experience w/o the context of spn. there’s a lot of fun parallels to stuff on the show, and its given me like years of brain rot and therapy lmao. so i really deeply appreciate this page as an outlet, thank you so much to the mods for making it. anyways uh. here goes. sorry it’s so long.

[tw: queer trauma, religious trauma, mental illness]

okay so. in 3rd grade i met this girl. we'll call her kate. we became best friends, as in our names were never spoken separately, we did (and won) every science fair together, she came skiing with my family every winter, i stayed with her family at their beach house in the summers, our younger siblings were friends, etc.

our birthdays were exactly 6 months apart (jan 22/jul 22) so we literally believed that we were celestially intertwined.

we wrote a novel together in 8th grade. her family is baptist, we attended massachusetts catholic schools. i would go to church with her family when i slept over, i held hands and said grace with them at meals. they are all tall and blonde and beautiful. classically angelic. i am south asian. i remember introducing her to harry potter in the 4th grade, her mother hadn't let her read em because it was "blasphemous", but i snuck her my copies and she would read them during lunch n recess and keep them in my locker. sorry this seems like a lot of unnecessary detail but it will be important later.

anyways we both got into doctor who and subsequentally supernatural (s1-8?9 at the time). i specifically remember getting her into supernatural. i also remember her instinctive disdain for destiel when i talked about it, i was showing her a meta or fanfic i think, and i talked her through undoing some of her christian household’s internalized homophobia (fully assuming we were both straight at this point) (we were fucking 12). we'd do the whole "bitch" "jerk" thing, i (the older one) affectionately called her 'sammy', her phone password was dean, mine was cas (and they still are). on my 13th birthday, she gifted me a samulet, which i still wear to this day. (additionally, she gave me a vonnegut 'so it goes' necklace one year) (thats not vital but) (goes to show the extent of my dean coding) (im also an aquarius lmao). im highly protective of her. i carry extra rubber bands on my wrist for her. i keep our money and phones in my jacket when the school takes us skiing. i sit next to her in the halls during lunch and organize her binder. on an 8th grade field trip, a boy made a gross comment at her and i broke his nose.

so we start high school together at coed catholic school nearby, i join debate, make a friend also into spn, she's bi. she asks kate out over text. kate's mom sees this. things turn.

now the rest of these things happened over the course of a couple months and due to my trauma memory loss, i have no idea how accurate some of these memories are so uh. don't hold me to them.

- her highly religious mother is not happy with this obviously. at some point, she brings a priest home and tries to have kate exorcised.

- at this point, we learn that kate is schizophrenic; it never seemed to create noticeable issues before bc her home life and childhood was a perfect happy dream (not an assumption, her words).

- she's still coming to school, sporadically now, i bring home her work, spend hours helping her.

- when she comes to school, she has seizures: sometimes we're fortunate enough that they happen in a class we have together. she freezes up and the teacher empties the room. i refuse to leave. i hold her hand and softly sing her favorite song and sometimes she comes back to me. sometimes she doesn’t and the bell rings and the teacher forces me to leave and let the nurse handle it.

- another time they announce a medical lockdown (to keep ppl out of the hallway if someone is being escorted to an ambulance) while im in catholicism class, i immediately know it’s her; she fainted in the pool during swim team practice.

- i stay awake for 6 days straight bc i read online that sleep deprivation induces some of the same symptoms as schizophrenia and if i could understand what she was going through, i could help her

- she shows up at my house w both of her parents 15 minutes before the winter ball, begs me to go bc her parents will only let her if i go. so i do. her mom lurks by the gym doors with the chaperones. during a slow song, kate and debate girl start to slow dance, i grab our friend’s hand, drag him in front of them so her mom can’t see and make out with him.

- i wanted to tell her to stop but i was too afraid i would lose us, that it would seem like i was homophobic or i was jealous, but i knew her in my marrow and it didn’t seem like she was in love or into the relationship, it was willful self destruction

- we talked in the last few years, she confirmed this.

- at some point, she says she’s sorry she didn’t tell me about the voices before.

- when we talk, she’s not her anymore, she doesn’t remember our inside jokes, our codes, i can feel her being slowly ripped away and apart in real time

- i have a vivid memory of arguing with her and her telling me im not real, that her mind made me up, while occasionally speaking to something? someone? else in the room. i hold her hand and point to the matching thin scars on our thumbs and try to convince her im real.

- she eventually drops out entirely, taken to some mental facility that im not entirely sure wasnt conversion therapy (it was definitely a religious facility) (and conversion therapy was not outlawed in new hampshire until 2019) and im not allowed to see her.

- every now and then i get cryptic distressing emails or texts from her.

- one in particular has the subject, “youandiwalkafragilelineihaveknownitallthistimebutineverthoughtidlivetoseeitbreak” which is the first line of the song ‘haunted’ by taylor swift (our shared favorite)(the summer after this happened we collectively decided we needed a new swift Our Song and chose ‘breathe’). the body of the email read “what the hell have i done”

- i pray for the first time in my life, every single day for a few months, in different languages, at temple with my parents, in the chapel at school

- on a club trip, i get a call at 2am from her, crying, asking me why i didn’t help her, why i didn’t stop her, that it was my job to protect her

here’s something i wrote about her, three yrs after:

I wasn’t careful enough and she caught quickly. She burned so close and so bright that for long afterwards, I could not see. And like that, she was gone. I walked into the chapel. Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.

[that last line is from the latin version for a catholic prayer called the act of contrition, it translates to “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault”]

in the fall, i hear she’s starting at a small baptist school almost an hour from her house. she is dating the principal’s son. the principal is also her pastor.

in my second year of college, i have a bad acid trip in a snowy park in december. i put my hands into the snow and when i look at them,i see blood. i see her body in the snow adorned like it’s a funeral

i still have dreams about her. sometimes i meet her in a grassy field, flying kites and i invite her to my wedding. in others, i catch a glimpse of her ponytail and catholic school skirt and chase her up eight flights of stairs and when i grab her hand, she turns to ash.

at some point in a separate argument w my parents in which they went through my texts and found out i wasn’t straight (amongst other things) my dad says:“i knew i should’ve listened to [kate’s dad] when he told me the things you would talk about. he knew what you are. and he took his daughter away from you.”

last christmas we met up and drove around together, she tells me that for years she thought i hated her for letting me down and for abandoning me, and i literally have the dean winchester in ‘sacrifice’ five stages of grief when sam says “you know what i confessed in there?” because i could not even begin to fathom that she ever blamed herself. it had always been my fault. i had failed to save her. i corrupted her and i failed to save her.

anyways she’s fine now, she’s okay, im okay, we’ve talked and unpacked and we’re alright. but uh. yeah. that happened. the parallels make me crazy. now they can make you crazy too.

‎

[cloudbatcave]

Cloud Plays White: Finale

This is a long one, folks, since I realized I had a bit in my notes I had forgotten about and only found after I posted this, lol, so I have now edited it in.

when we last left off I was criticizing Alder for being useless in apprehending Ghetsis and Iris for not just taking me to Drayden’s house herself when it is Right Fucking There. 

So I’m still futzing around Opelucid here.

“No way, without pokemon, I’ll be lonely and sad! …but am I just using my pokemon, then?”

wow, seems there’s some brain cells there after all. you keep exercising those, brah.

I run into a guy who thinks that it’s okay for team plasma to take pokemon from weak trainers, even though he considers himself one and feels bad for the people they rob.

There’s another dude in the same room who used to be part of team plasma but left because it was weird for him that everyone thought the same way.

See, I appreciate this part of the game’s writing - I wish there was more stuff like this, people who are conflicted and their viewpoints being front and center instead of the simplistic garbage we’re fed by Iris and Alder and company.

Though there’s an absolute nut job who says that despite the years he’s trained with his pokemon he’ll let it go if it makes it a perfect being and I am just not even gonna unpack all the lunacy there.

There’s a kid who thinks that just because N has the legendary pokemon, he must be the hero.

I am very concerned about everyone in Unova being so gullible.

“Your Scrafty looks like it can try a little harder.”

WELL FUCK YOU TOO RANDOM LADY??? LAD DOES HIS BEST AND I WILL NOT HAVE HIM SLANDERED THIS WAY

I finally go to Drayden’s and get told how the original dragon performed mitosis and now we have two dragons and also they once destroyed the region with fire and lightning but it’s chill.

“People may hurt pokemon even more by imposing their selfish thoughts on them. But no matter what, Pokemon and people believe in each other, need each other, and will continue to live together…”

Drayden is smarter and more nuanced than like, anyone else, why is he not a main character.

Iris chips in about how much she can’t forgive Plasma and Drayden mentions they don’t know how to wake up Zekrom.

Well, to be fair, I’d be very surprised if they did.

Off to the gym, this’ll be interesting since I have no ice or dragon moves on my team.

I get through the trainers okay, now time to fight Daffodil.

Her Haxorus was a bit tricky but nothing I couldn’t handle, and when I walk out Juniper shows up.

And somehow she knows how to resurrect Zekrom. Cool!

She blahs about how it’ll wake up when it deems someone worthy and talks about how much I’ve changed and shows me to the gate where the route to the pokemon league is.

“Chirae? Do you regret setting out on your pokemon journey?”

UH.

MAYBE?

mmm, that’s not fair to my pokemon though - nigh everyone around me may be looney tunes or incompetent, but they’ve been good pals.

So I hit “no” after all.

and she gives me a master ball. dope.

I make it to the gates of victory road and I honestly really like the bit where each section of them is themed after the badges! That’s a nice touch, I think that was only also done in the FRLG remakes if I recall correctly. It makes it feel a lot more ceremonious and important.

Ah here come my two idiots.

Bianca asks Cheren to smile and he’d probably implode if he did. He finally isn’t an asshole though, good for him.

The bug badge guard tells me to “fight valiantly like an insect” which is funny but I guess does make sense. Ants can fuck some stuff up, man.

Honestly I want to be a badge gate guard, seems like a fun job.

Also, I caught an excadrill in a raid the day I wrote this, and caught an excadrill in this game. Their pokedex entry includes this gem:

“Their tunnels can be destructive to subway systems”

Given the battle subway exists in this game, their insurance payments must be obscene. Imagine getting your match interrupted by a giant mole with metal fists that doesn’t give a fuck.

I named her Beans. She looks like a Beans.

I also caught a Deino. The Irate Pokémon that can’t see and tackles people to learn about its surroundings. I feel a kinship with this creature.

I named him Mezzo for laughs.

And I managed to get myself back to the beginning of victory road. Good job, cloud.

Okay I think I’ve found the right path, found a new dude to beat up which is a good sign. Apparently he’s lost too.

Love when a trainer switches out to a Pokémon mine doesn’t have a type advantage against and it gets wiped in two hits anyway. Death is inevitable.

“I’ve thought about what I can do to help my Pokémon win and I finally figured out the answer!”

Is it git gud?

Flame charge raises my speed, opponent’s klang uses automotize to prove it can do that too, dies because it’s too busy trying to go fast.

Then I get nailed by a flare blitz. Darmanitan is toxic to gen 5 nuzlocke runs, I swear. Especially since I have no one on my hodgepodge team resistant to fire. At least my unfezant is faster.

“Read what your opponent wants to do. Your opponent is human and may change plans from moment to moment. Be careful!”

There’s some meta joke to be made there but I’m not thinking of anything witty. Something something AI having a point even if not in this context.

Back to the beginning again but I think I know what I need to do now.

I looked at a walkthrough to check, tho, lmfao. Was tired of climbing up there only to fall down the wrong spot.

“There’s an item at the bottom! Do you want to slide all the way down?”

You’re the devil talking and you tempt me but I will ignore your silver tongue for now.

So I’m at the league and I thought Cheran would pop out of the bushes before I got here. That’s weird. I could swear he fights me one last time before I challenge the elite four.

NO CHERAN. OKAY. WHAT. IS MY GAME GLITCHED??

I guess not! Huh.

All right then. Time to try and see if I can win with my very unbalanced team.

Lmfao yeah my first attempt against the ghost trainer crashed and burned. Literally, thanks to her Chandelure. Very glad I saved on the outside. TIME TO GO TRAIN MORE.

No Marty, you may not learn wild charge, this is a no recoil moves household, self harm is bad.

Some grinding later, I am ready to try again.

Shauntal gave me a little trouble but was much more manageable. Grimsley was easy, only his Krookodile gave me issues.

I really like the elite four battle areas in this gen, I do admit. Very aesthetic.

Ah shit I know that Musharna is coming.

Never mind, that pink and purple snoozeball went down easy. I didn’t have a single Pokémon faint.

Unless Marshal breaks the trend the fights have actually gotten easier as I went.

He actually was a bit tricky, gave me a good show.

Hello endless stairs, hello N and Alder, hello giant random castle that just explodes out of the ground somehow.

“What has just appeared is team plasma’s castle”

Thanks mate, never would’ve figured that out without you. Why do you need a castle. 

Oh wow, the gym leaders finally decided to be useful and fight the sages for me instead of letting extremists wander around unchecked.

Thanks y’all! Trying not being pointless more often!

“Ignoring team plasma...that would be a terrible thing for us gym leaders to do.”

You all already did that, Elena. I watched as Clay and Iris let these assholes go. We could have avoided this whole plot if literally any of you had done more earlier.

So the game says the castle was built by the Pokémon team plasma took but how the fuck did they like...work underground...you know what I’m not gonna even think about it too hard because it makes no sense and I know that. I must make my peace.

I also like how the castle is nonsensical and yet there’s a line of dialogue about how they’ll liberate the Pokémon in PCs too for their Master Plan(TM), which is surprisingly thoughtful. This game is so inconsistent with how much sense its lore makes. It’ll come up with something clever and then wear its underwear on its head the next minute.

“Will you go the Pokémon league?”

Hey what - WHY DID YOU TELEPORT ME HOW CAN YOU DO THAT. DO YOU HAVE AN ABRA OR WHAT

THAT WAS RANDOM

Well at least there’s someone there to randomly teleport me back too.

WHEEEEEE

Hi Reshiram, convenient how that mini fire tornado you made didn’t burn me or N.

Hi Zekrom, convenient how your lightning didn’t hurt us either, you’re a considerate chap

Aight, let’s see if I can catch this bastard

...I did and it only took me like five balls. Okay then.

N gave me a good fight, so there’s that.

Love how Ghetsis’s bouffalant kills itself via recoil from its own move and my scrafty’s rocky helmet.

He gave me a good fight too though.

I do like the ending, despite my issues with how the game presents its message. N is a great character and I appreciate what Nintendo was trying to do with the game’s plot, they just...didn’t really delve into it like they should have.

I’m glad I replayed it. I still have my issues with gen 5 but I see a lot more of its positives now.

We’ll see if I do any post-game content, I have gotten kind of attached to my grump-ass trainersona and his weird team.

[harryimaginedstories]

A lucky Man

Hi friends! Hope you enjoy this blogmas story.  Summary: Y/N is frustrated because what on earth is there she could get the man who seemingly already has everything?

Request: Yes.

The picture is truly the loveliest sight I’ve seen in a while.

 Annoyance was a heavy weight in my chest and I slapped my laptop shut, without pausing first to close the dozen taps I’d browsed in vain. Absolutely and frustratingly in vain.

Plenty of magazines lay on the table before me, some of the printed items were circled and others crossed out, but even the few I’d marked weren’t ones I really believed could make a good present for him. And besides, shopping off of magazines seemed very old school and who knew how long it would take to arrive anyway? But there was nothing I liked online either. I sighed, let my head fall back and my eyes shut. For fuck’s sake. Christmas shouldn’t be so difficult. There was a dull ache at the back of my brain, clearly due to staring at a screen for hours with no end as the certainty that this year’s winner of the ‘worst girlfriend ever’ prize would be me, pulled me under a wave of disappointment. I knew I was mostly at fault for my stress, since Harry didn’t worry too much about presents and what he would receive. As a child he’d stayed up all through the night before Christmas with the excitement making his tummy sick, and once he’d been allowed he’d opened the biggest of his presents first and with a wide smile on his chubby cheeks.  But with growing older and becoming an adult that excitement lessened and transformed into another kind: He became a giver himself. He loved to buy and then decorate thoughtful gifts for his friends and family members, spent hours to write and draw little cards for each of them, and cared hardly at all about what he’d get in return. Since late November Harry was busy getting presents (several for each of the people he loved) and he had most of them wrapped and ready by now. Me on the other hand? Not quite. I had a couple small presents for my family, and even those still needed to be wrapped, but none for his mom and sister or my friends yet. And most importantly: I didn’t have Harry’s gift yet either. And that was the one that was seemingly the hardest to find. Just as I was about to bang my head against the wooden table the door to my flat opened and shut with a heavy thud. Footsteps were heard, somebody’s shoes were kicked off and soon Harry’s playful voice called for me. “Honey, I’m home!” He snickered at the joke and my heart warmed. I turned to see him walk towards me and reached out my arms as an invitation for a hug. “Oh, darling,” he chuckled and I sighed happily when my face pressed to his stomach while his arms secured themselves around my shoulders. He smelled really nice and the fabric of his warm jumper was comfortable against my cheek. I’d missed him more than I’d realized, and it hadn’t been more than three hours since we’d spoken on the phone. “You okay?” I shrugged and shook my head against his tummy. “Christmas is annoying.” Harry squeezed my back to him before releasing me gently and pulling out a chair to sit down by my side. His eyes drifted to the magazines on the table before he turned to look at me, bearing a confused expression.  The back of his hand caressed my cheek. “What’s all this about, love?” “Can’t tell you,” I groaned. My head leaned into his palm and I reached out to hold his free hand in mine, finding comfort in the simplicity to have my boyfriend near, especially since he was gone so often. Our fingers intertwined and he smiled when I turned to look at the rings decorating most of them, the metal warm against my skin after he’d been wearing them all day. “Why can’t you tell me?” He wasn’t worried, we were talking about a couple magazines laying around after all, but he didn’t quite like me not telling him what was going on. Normally I always did and often Harry would pride himself for knowing absolutely everything about his girlfriend. I raised his hand to my lips and gave it a soft kiss. “Because you’re my boyfriend,” I hummed against his knuckles, “And that’s kind of a problem.” Taken out of context the words would’ve hurt him, but the smile I wore soothed and chased away and doubt. “But m’not only your boyfriend,” Harry argued with a small frown on his lovely face. I knew what he meant and I wanted to tell him though when I turned to stare at the useless magazines and my shut laptop, all the disappointed in myself rushed back. It wasn’t the smartest move on my part to wait until now with looking for a present, but to be fair I was pretty busy. That and... well, I’d known that looking for something would take forever and be difficult, something I tried to both avoid and eventually forget. My eyes found his again and I giggled when he made a big deal to turn his body and face mine, giving me his undivided attention. The white shirt he wore suited him almost ridiculously well and my heart fluttered at how cuddly and hot at the same time he somehow managed to look. Bastard. “Tell me,” he insisted and I batted away the hand that reached out to pinch my nose. I giggled at him whining and squeezed the fingers I was still holding on to tightly.  “Okay, fine,” I gave in, ”But only because you’re right and you’re not just my boyfriend but also my best friend and it may sound silly but if you want me to spill you’ll have to be just my best friend for a minute.” The pink lips I loved so much, parted with feigned shock. “Are you saying you’re breaking up with me? Over magazines?” “Shut up.” “I mean,” he continued and I grinned when he visibly swallowed the chuckle fighting to leave his throat, “how insane is it that magazines can now even come between relationships as serious as ours?” I shook my head and let go of his hand so I could cross my arms over my chest. “You’re not funny.” The wide grin decorating Harry’s face forced me to smile as well. “Fine,” Harry agreed, sitting up straighter, “M’just your friend then.” “Good.” Oddly enough the moment he agreed to be friends, if only for the moment and mainly as a joke, the urge to kiss him, an urge I had to deal with at all times anyway, grew stronger. I pulled up my knees and brought them to my chest. How I survived months being just a friend of this gorgeous man I will never understand. “Tell me, bestie,” he giggled and I regretted my proposition the moment I noticed the cheeky sparkle in his eyes, the sparkle of a new joke he’d just come up with, “Would you say your current boyfriend is the best you’ve ever had?” “Fuck’s sake Harry!” He laughed. “What? We always used to have chats like this!” “And I recall you hating it and ending most of them with advising me to break off whatever I had going on with a guy.” “’Course and now you know why,” he grinned, “‘cause I knew I’d give it to you far better than any of those wankers you were wasting your time with.” “Fine, you know what? Now I’m not telling you shit.” I got up to move the magazines and my laptop out of the way and walked towards the kitchen. Harry’s loud huff made me smile. “Fine, fine!” his socked feet followed me to where I stood by the counter, preparing two cups of tea for us, “Promise I’ll stop messing around and listen to what you have to say. M’curious. What are you holding those at me for?” “They’re two different kinds of tea. Pick one.” His finger tapped the right box I’d held in front of his face. “Okay,” I began with a sigh and moved to prepare water, “Listen. You’re going to find it ridiculous and probably stupid, too, but I’m really struggling, Harry.”  “With what?” he wondered, brows knotted. The faint desperation in my tone had apparently gotten his attention after all. My kitchen felt awfully small as I moved under his watchful gaze. “I can’t find a present that would be prefect and thoughtful enough to be something my beloved boyfriend deserves.” His expression was priceless. First the cheekiness drained from his orbs, then the smile fell. “You’re shitting me.” I knew the next joke or cheeky comment practically begged to roll of his tongue, but it seemed that Harry noticed the tension in my shoulders and how I nervously played with the tips of my fingers. He reached out and touched my arm over the counter between us. “Y/N, that’s the silliest thing you could possibly worry about,” he insisted calmly. “It’s not,” I complained, “You have everything, don’t you? And if you don’t then you can easily just go and get it yourself... there’s like- nothing that I could get you that’s half as special or perfect as what I know you have ready to give to me.” Without saying anything, Harry got to his feet and walked over to stand by my side. He filled half his cup with cold tap water before holding it out for me to pour some of the freshly cooked in it as well. “I see where you’re coming from” he began, leaning his body against the counter, “I don’t agree, but I get it.” “I browsed the internet for ages,” I went on, relieved to finally spill my frustration to someone, “spent all of yesterday in shopping malls and found absolutely nothing! Not even the magazines have something I think you would like and I... I’m embarrassed. Because the few things I did find that you might enjoy are in those expensive stores you always go to and I couldn’t possibly afford any of them, even if I were to sell a kidney for it.” “Wouldn’t want you to go that far,” Harry chuckled, though I could tell by his tone that my worry didn’t leave him unmoved. Silence fell over us again and I waited with an uncomfortable weight at the bottom of my stomach for what he had to say next.  After a few minutes of us staring at each other, Harry nudged my hip with his playfully. “I love you a lot.” A cooing noise left my mouth and this time it was him who batted my hand away as I reached out to pinch his cheek. “Shut up,” he laughed, “What I mean is that it truly doesn’t matter if you get me something small or nothing at all. I know you think m’just saying that to be humble, and to be honest sometimes I am, but with you I mean it. Genuinely. And that’s not ‘cause I agree that I already have everything I want because of my money, or that I could go get whatever whenever, but because I have had everything I want every since you agreed to let me be with you everyday. You’re my girlfriend, at least usually you are, and that’s the greatest gift of all.” And there went the waterworks. A muffled “Oh, Harry!” left my mouth before I shakily set the cup in my hand down and instead wrapped both arms around his shoulders. My sudden affection came as a surprise to him and he tried to stop the tears from wetting my cheeks by kissing the skin of my neck and embracing my hips tightly. “I love you so much,” I murmured, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak properly. “Good,” he breathed, “S’that mean we can stop playing ‘just friends’ so I can kiss my girlfriend again.” “Yes,” I whined and hot lips found his jaw, “Of course. You’re the sweetest guy in the world, you really are.” His mouth ghosted over my mouth before he let his nose nudge mine. My hand reached to the back of his head and he moaned lowly, before finally leaning in to kiss me. Our lips moved quickly and with an urgency that made it feel as if we had been parted for more than either of us could bear. I held on to his curls and pressed my body against his, the familiar smell of his skin making me dizzy. The affirmation of his love for me made every inch of my body tingle with warmth and by the way he deepened the kiss and moaned my name I knew he felt it, too. A small giggle filled the room when his hands first tickled my sides and then moved to grab my bum.  I blushed bright red and broke away laughing. “Harry! Stop!” His chuckle followed and I moved my neck to make room for his face to nuzzle into the warmth. “You really don’t have to worry, baby. M’happy with a card or something. S’long as I got you to hold like this, m’a lucky man.” Even though I still didn’t have a clue what I would eventually place under the tree for him, the honesty in his voice soothed my worries. He deserved something good, something special and more than just a ‘you’re my girlfriend and now I’m happy forever’ kind of thing. I tightened my hold around his neck. “You’re the only guy I know who changes from a pain in the arse to the best boyfriend there is, inner seconds.” “Well, m’special, aren’t I?” “I still want to get you something, though.” And luckily I did find something in the end. I took Harry’s promise that he was grateful to be with me everyday, that he loved me and that he was happy ever since I agreed to be his, and got him the one thing that would ensure we’d be together for most of next year. I wrapped the airplane ticket that would allow me to fly out and then accompany him for most of his upcoming tour in golden paper, while he watched with a soft smile. It was when I lay it next to his neatly wrapped gifts that for the first time in years the same sense of excitement cursed through his veins and made his tummy flutter as it had when he was a kid.  He couldn’t wait to open that present, even though it wasn’t the biggest one under the tree.

Hope you enjoyed this!  I have a similar story about his the same problem but it’s his birthday right here: You’re My Favorite ( it’s not my favorite though and not very well written) 

Also: Masterlist 

And: Christmas Harry

[sass-cass-writes]

Growls

Description: After Metatron killing Dean and him turning into a demon, you and Sam have brought him back in order to revert him to the human you loved. GIFs are not mine.

Characters: Demon!Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Tagging: @akshi8278

It was the Mark. It had to have been. Nothing that demonic, not even possession, would’ve made the low, animalistic growls, echoing through the bunker from the dungeon. It came after screams, grunts and once a cry. Sam had been in there facing this new identity of his brother, holding back the fear and fright he held knowing he may not get Dean back. As Sam plunged another needle and vile of blessed blood into Dean’s straining arm, Dean growled and grunted. You stood there watching. That’s all you could do.

Sam glanced to you throughout the treatment, just to check up on you. Sam knew this strain wasn’t just on him but you too. You loved Dean and he loved you. You’d never hurt him and god forbid, Dean would kill himself if he ever hurt you or touched you wrongly.

“(Y/N)?” Sam asked, breaking you from your train of thought. “How you holding up?”

“I’m fine Sammy,” you replied, placing a small smile on your face. He nodded and grabbed his jacket. He placed a small kiss to your hair and walked to the door.

“I’m getting some more blood, make sure he doesn’t get to you.” Sam said, concerned.

You nodded. “I’ll be fine Sam. You just make sure no demons get to your other shoulder.” He laughs a little at the comment and turns to leave. His boots echoes filled the quiet atmosphere and it wasn’t long before you heard the familiar roar of the impala leaving the bunkers garage.

You walked inside the dungeon, the demon blade in your belt. Dean’s head hung low, the echoing of your own footsteps made him look up. His hair was fuller and more styled, the dark maroon shirt and black shirt underneath fit his body well. His perfect lips stretched into one of his dark smirks.

“Hey there, (Y/N).” He smiled, but it was confronting, almost devilish. You swallowed a little and looked at him. You were scared. Your eyes were trembling, but your face and posture suggested that you couldn’t give two fucks about what was going on. In your mind, you thought about the things he could do in his new…skin. You had seen what the First Blade had done, what with Abaddon’s bloody bath and all, but Dean was human then. He’s now a demon, more so a knight of hell. You could only imagine, and god forbid never experience, the things he could do now. But a thought also crossed your mind. If Dean had turned a one-eighty, what did you mean to him?

A heavy, deep chuckle broke your thought. Dean raised his head, lips stretched into a smirk and eyebrows relaxed. “I can hear your thoughts.” He chimed. Your heart jumped a beat but settled as you sat down. “And yes, I am worse.” He paused. “Yes, I am a knight of hell.” He looked down. “And yes, you still mean something to me.” You looked up at the sudden change of tone he had. Your face fell actually showing empathy for Dean. “You’re just another target and play toy for me.” He smirked as you growled and walked over.

“It wonders me sometimes how you actually get by without Sam and I having to babysit your ass. I mean you’ve got all this rage and anger built up inside of you, it puzzles me into why you yourself aren’t a demon.” He chuckles and smirks. “It was daddy. Daddy taught you well. Daddy disciplined you. Daddy made you what you are (Y/N).”

Your (E/C) eyes widened. You hadn’t told anyone about your past and never intended to. Not Ellen, Bobby, your surrogate parents. Not Castiel, an angel who probably knew but never mentioned it for good intentions. Heck even the Winchester boys didn’t know and you’ve been with them since two years before Sam left to Stanford. For this new asshole form of Dean, someone you cared about and loved dearly to use it against you stung and hit like knives. The audacity this thing had. You didn’t think of Dean as your partner and best friend. You saw a monster. A monster who killed, hurt and threw good morals away.

Heart over head, you backhanded him incredibly hard, making his head snap to the side. He looked up at you, a dark scowl. “You listen to me you low standard, inconsiderate soulless monster. You don’t talk, you don’t make a sound. You sit there and you shut your mouth! You don’t talk about me like that, you aren’t my Dean!”

“Oh I am your Dean sweetheart. It’s a new lean, mean model of Dean. Faster, quicker. Bloody hell, more lustful.” He dragged his too perfect pink lips through his toothy smirk, eyeing your body.

“You mean an alcoholic, self troubled, low life of a jackass?” You were doubting your choice of retaliation. His eyes flickered back as he growled and lunged towards you, the restraints of the chair and better yet Devils Trap stopping him.

You stepped back, scared from the fright. He looked at you growling then laughing seeing your once newfound confidence drain from your face. “Where was the girl that loved me so much?” He asked, tilting and shaking his head to the side. “Would give soul and heart for me?”

“She died when Dean did.”

“But then again, she was always a drag. Always whining, complaining, saying she never had the best life. She irritated me. I never said it because, well, I was considerate, humane. But now I’m free to speak my mind.”

You walked to the table, the last bit of blood laying in a needle.

“It’s not going to work, you know.”

You didn’t listen. You picked it up and walked over, plunging it a little to harshly than you would’ve hoped. Dean grunted, even cried out at the harsh gesture. He bent his head and whimpered as the blood burnt his demon form. Once it was gone, you pulled it out and walked to the table, like Sam had done multiple times. He chuckles deeply, it’s presence making you shiver. “Oh fuck, that’s a good feeling. When I get out, I’m going to have fun with you!”

You left the dungeon, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as they stung. You walked to the kitchen, unable to realise the thing you were doing. You were killing him. The unhinged of your phone tore away your passive thoughts. The ID read “S.W”, you answered. “Hey Sam,” you greeted, wiping your eyes.

“Hey (Y/N), how you holding up?” Sam inquired.

“I’m fine Sammy, just some things of what he said are troubling me.” You tell, not mentioning the fact of your past.

“I know (Y/N)” Sam reassured. “But we’ve got a problem.” When the word ‘problem’ left his mouth it added to stack.

“Sam what’s wrong?”

“The blood banks down, it was attacked by. Found a fang-”

“Vamps raided a blood bank.” You stated. “How is that a problem?”

“The next one is two hours away.” He said. The tone in his voice said everything. You were absolutely fucked.  Replying with a torn ‘oh’ he reassured that everything was going to be okay and so on so forth.

You hung up soon later, but when you did the bunkers lights went red. Flickering on and off, your heartbeat quickened as you heard it. Deep, animalistic growls, faint but audible. You realised the one thing you missed. The more you pumped blood into Dean and made him more human, the less demon possessed him. He would walk through that trap like nothing. You were NOW officially fucked.

Knowing you’d lure him by a rookie move, you ran your hands along the wall to the room with protection in a way. He was still part demon. Holy water and the demon knife stuck to your belt would do it. You ran into the room you consciously remembered and grabbed what you needed. The dungeon.

The doors suddenly closed, even the one to the storage room. You turned and ran to it, trying to open the metal restraints. Dean chuckled as he stood in the corner, the rope cut from the wrists and ankles laid on the seat. You watched as he came towards the border of the Devils Trap, smirking as he stepped over the line. “You know the funny thing about the blood change?” He stalks towards you, you gripping the demon knife. “It makes me less of a demon and more of a human.”

“I noticed.”

You looked up with fear, Dean catching on. But rather than taking advantage, he reassured you. “I still love you (Y/N). No matter what I am, who I am, the love and care I have for you will never change.” You looked up at him. Maybe the blood was turning him back, because those where the each words Dean told you when he first got the Mark. But you couldn’t put your guard down. He was still a demon yes, but, you loved him. You’d never hurt him.

He cups your cheek, the eerily similar gentle touch of Dean’s coming back to you. You couldn’t help but lean into it. He smiles a little, kissing your lips gently.

You dropped the knife and gripped his hair tightly, the dark growl raising from his throat. He pulled your top off, letting your bra on as he hungrily kissed your chest. “I’ve been wanting to kiss and touch your beautiful body ever since I changed.” He slides down your jeans and panties, him kneeling as the fabrics are torn from your ankles. He kisses your thighs gently, the tingling sensation of his breath, stubble and volumed hair between your thighs, made you let out a wanton moan. He hadn’t touched you yet and you were already getting nerves. Was it fear or pure pleasure?

You moaned as his lips and slight touch of tongue brushed along your folds. He picked up your thigh and slung it over his shoulder as he sucked, lapped and moaned at the taste of you. You whimper as your orgasm edged you on. You cursed and swore, gripping his hair. “Dean…” Every nerve in your small 5'9" body was being set alight, lightning quick strikes and heat set fire to every living cell of your body. He sucked on your clit hard, swirling that god forsaken tongue around repeatedly. He dragged it up and down, pushing occasionally into your dripping core. Jesus, Dean’s demeanour of the tough, brooding and scary as hell man didn’t seem to exist in this context. Even as a demon, his actions were soft and longing, savouring the love being made.

You cried out as you came hard, the walls of your pussy tightening and shaking. Dean moaned and lapped up whatever he could. He was like a hungry, starved man. You collapsed as he quickly without hesitation pulled down his jeans and boxers. His length sprang to attention and pointed upwards. You bit your lip a little eagerly, Dean catching on.

“Do it.” He growled, he gripped his length and gave slow strokes to the hardened flesh. “Suck me with your pretty big mouth.”  You obliged. You kneeled down as it pointed in your face. He gripped the back of your head making sure his hand was full of (Y/H/C) waves. You gripped his length and stroked gently as you applied kitten licks to the tip. Using whatever fluid caught on, you circled your thumb over the head, digging slightly into the slit as precome pulsed out. Dean once again emitted growls and groans.

You took him into your mouth slowly. Licking and pressing your tongue into his length helped you pleasure him. You gagged a little, but Dean persisted, pushing into your mouth gently but dominant. He moaned when he hit the back of your throat. Without his assistance, you bobbed your head up and down, stroking what you couldn’t suck.

“Oh fuck baby girl.” Dean moaned. You sucked, licked and swallowed. He grew larger and began to pulse as his veins grew. Dean feeling this sensation pulled out of your mouth. Whilst you whimpered at the loss of someone enjoyment he pulled you up.

When you were about to question him, he picked you up by the thighs and kissed your neck. He pushed himself in slowly, allowing you to stretch and accomodate to his size. A wanton moan left your lips and a slight yelp at that when he bottomed out inside of you. He too, had groaned at the sudden contact and couldn’t help but growl. “Oh god, this feels just as I imagined. So fucking tight and wet…” He started to roll his hips and slam into your pussy, each thrust dragging deliciously over your sweet spot, your clit once again stimulated gently by the skin of his hips

You moan and even cry out more. You knew it was wrong but you loved him so much you didn’t care. You bounced up and down his length hard and quick, the sweet love making kisses peppered to your body and neck. He thrusts hard into you, him moaning as his hot breath caressed the wet skin in the places he kisses you sloppily. You curse and groan as Dean looks at you. You stared at each other for some time as he pounded you against the wall. His candy apple green eyes were there, his freckles peppered where you remembered. His somewhat heart and humanity left in his eyes and soul. You both moan simultaneously as your orgasms were edging you on. Your clit and for sure numb walls were being overstimulated from the extreme sex montage and event happening in the cold and hard dungeon.

You cry out as you release, your body shaking as Dean thrusted further, rutting if you will, whilst you still were pressed against the wall. He growled and gripped your shoulder tightly as he pushed over the edge. White streaks of his hot release shot out, coating your numb walls and trickling down your legs. He looks at you panting, as you return a tired and worn out expression. He kisses you gently a sudden change from moments before. You kiss back as he pulls out carefully and sits you down. You both step back from each other as Dean pulled his jeans and boxers pooled at his ankles up. You grabbed your own attire and dressed.

-oOo-

Two hours later, Sam had returned with the last of the blood. You waited outside the dungeon, not wanting to see Dean in pain. Then they stopped. The low animalistic growls were gone. Your heart skipped a beat. Was he dead? You turn into the dungeon and stand beside the 6'4" man as he watched his brother gasp and his eyes turn from pitch black to the bright ones you love.

Both you and Sam smile in relief and after a holy water test, Dean was back and he was good.  You lead him out and to the kitchen, made him his favourite food and a cup of straight black coffee as he ate and remained humane.

Dean was back. He was okay. But the Mark of Cain that burned bright bloody red on his right inner arm, above his veins, still stood there. It stuck out as if swollen, the twisted seven and dashes making you feel a little dizzy.  There had to be a way. Right?

[lombardiisms]

🌅- A memory associated with a certain location

He looked at a particular park bench. There was a faint etching on it - he couldn’t forget it, not even if he tried. 

(Content Warning: Drug use, alcoholism, tobacco, mild sexual references and passing mentions of abuse under the cut.)

This story will be told from a first-person perspective!

It was a day I remember awfully vividly, like it was just earlier this week. I was in high school - about fifteen years old, since it was my freshman year. I owned a small studio apartment t’myself at the time, and had done fer two years, since it was after I’d run away from that shitty orphanage. 

Corneria’s a bitch. Might look like a civilized n’ generous place t’live, but even a studio apartment like mine had a huge askin’ price. I think I worked two jobs back then. When I got outta school, I was pretty much studyin’ and cookin’ fer myself at the same time, since I only had about another hour before duty called. 

I had one day off, n’ more often than not, I’d spend it with my friends at high-school. Well; friends is a bit much with no context. We were the fucked up kids, n’ there was about six or seven of us. While I won’t go int’detail about myself or about the others, we came from all sorts of shitty backgrounds in some way or another. Some of ‘em were beaten, abused - in more ways than one. Disgustin’ shit. A few others even went so far as t’do some other favors t’get by on trivial things like rent n’ food. 

Me? I never had the confidence t’do anythin’ other than smoke n’ drink by that point. An outcast among outcasts. Life treated me weird.

Bottom line is that we had all ended up away from home, livin’ on our own... all in the same sinkin’ ship. 

Obviously, we each had our ways with copin’ outside the group. A good few of them would hop onto whatever drug was findin’ it’s way around the town, others like myself preferred t’drown ourselves in the devil’s nectar, if y’know what I mean. But I was never against doin’ any favors for the guys, like lettin’ them hotbox in my shitty little apartment. After all, they were the closest thing I’d ever had t’friends.

We weren’t discrete about it neither, we’d congregate at some rusty old park bench beneath the shadiest tree in the park. It was the only one that didn’t look new n’ sparkly. It was alone, beaten, worn out n’ uninvitin’, just like us. 

Anyways, I’m sittin’ here with my friend - he’s a crocodile, a bit on the bulky end. At first glance, he looks more of the jock type, but that facade fades the moment y’see what’s usually in those big hands of his; a cig in his left and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in the other. By this point in the evenin’, it’d’ve been half empty already. 

We’re talkin’ about somethin’ meaningless, some indie band I’ve never heard of. It’s sometime in January, probably about midway through. The snow’s meltin’, but it’s still cold - I hate the cold. T’me, it’s one of the worst, most isolatin’ feelin’s in the world, so I ask him t’pass me a cig.

“Pass me a bogey.” He rolls his eyes under those snazzy stolen shades of his n’ reaches int’his pocket for the box. Naturally, I take the thing in my beak n’ cup my hands around it, lighter in hand.

Besides my lighter n’ the crappy grunge playin’ from the jukebox we had, it was a quiet evenin’.

After a few seconds of puffin’, some other kid - a hedgehog, - approaches the group. Judgin’ from the way he’s dressed he’s probably from our school, about a year older than me. He’s prancin’, skippin’ even, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. 

He starts gigglin’ and asks if we have any weed. I just shake my head, the rest laugh at him. They’re about to shoo him off, but he starts t’feel a little mysterious t’me. My curiosity peaked, n’ I spoke over my chums. 

“Why waste time with that shit? My friends n’ I’re pretty much rock bottom. Don’t want t’have your precious popularity jeopardized by associatin’ with us now, right?” He seemed awfully giddy, still, so I decided t’press. “You hooked on E’s?” 

His response was weird, of all of the things t’stick with me on such a mundane day... This one in particular stays with me day in n’ day out.

“Nope. I’m clean. I just heard from some kids in my class that you guys smoked a lot of the stuff. They said something like, um... that you guys run about every week, fucking around with not a care in the system, free as a bird.”

...And for some reason, I smiled at this complete rando. “Free as a bird, eh?” I looked back at the other teens around me. Never before had I heard a term that I was so infatuated with. “I like that... Yeah.”