#i tried i had this post in my drafts for awhile and want it to be done

[lightvsdark18]

How Milady's passing affected them

Lucifer isolated himself and focused on his work, downing bitter coffee and passing out at his desk. He tried his best to keep his brothers together after the funeral, but it was easier to leave them be and grief in their own way.

He got too into his head and didn't realize his hair was getting long until it touched his shoulders. When he first cut his hair in the Devildom, it was right after falling and wanting to get rid of everything that reminded him of the Celestial Realm. He was emotional shot when he stared into the mirror that day and cut his long hair to a choppy short one, then bursted into tears at what he did.

He always kept it short to represent his new life as a demon, but right now, he couldn't help running his fingers through his longish hair and feeling nostalgic since he always adored having long hair.

He immediately focused his thoughts on his work and ignored his conflicted feelings, figuring he would cut it off later. However, his busy schedule let it grow more that Diavolo noticed his friend running his fingers through his hair and giving a small smile.

"Enjoying yourself?" The new demon king teased, confusing the former angel by the question. "You have been playing with your hair ever since it got long."

Lucifer apologized and said he will make an appointment to get it cut, but Diavolo stopped him, saying to keep it.

"... I don't know. The last time I had long hair is when I fell and it been so long since."

The demon king responded to see the change of appearance to be a new era for the eldest, and to start doing things that made him happy. "You can't keep doing this forever, Lucifer. You have to keep the promise you all made to her."

~~~~

Belphie slept more often and hid away in the attic, refusing to stop dreaming of her, but his coping mechanism was cut short when his twin started to get violent. He had to be awake to focus Beel's attention on not destroying almost everything around him.

His dreams of her kept him somewhat sane during the grieving process until a memory of her saying he looks nice with his hair tied back from his eyes. That dream had him staring in the mirror and pinning his bands back to see how he looked.

The first time he arrived in the Devildom, he felt terrified and wanted to hide away, using his arm to shield himself from the other demons' glares. He grew out his hair to brush parts of it in the front of his face and hide himself without needing his arm.

Maybe he doesn't have to that anymore. He tried pinning his hair daily and received compliments from his brothers and other demons. He did subconsciously cover himself with his arm, but over time he slowly got used to the feeling of having both eyes visible.

One night after another dream of her, she spoke how cute he looked now that he immediately cut his hair to hear those comments again. He felt strange at what he did, but who cared, she could see his whole face now.

~~~~

Asmo buried himself more into his sin and distracted himself with others, but everytime he was alone, he craved her touch again. He often found himself crying in his bed, missing her dearly and how she couldn't comfort him when his heart started to ache.

One night at a club, the demons he was going to be partying with commented on his appearance, his freckles. Asmo froze in fear since he grew to despise them when Devildom of old taught him to do so.

He always hid his freckles after hearing the cruel words and allowed no one to see them, except for her. She was the first person in a long time to see his bare face and call them adorable, oh how he felt at those words.

Therefore, hearing those words from his fans felt wonderful and could see her smiling at him as he sat down and acted like he planned it. There were those who complained about his freckles and how he looks better without them, causing Asmo wanting to retreat to his shield known as makeup.

However, the image of her cheerful face and genuine words helped him fight against the urge. "Who cares if they don't like it, I like it and that's what matters."

Those words stuck to him. "What matters is I like it..."

~~~~

Beel wasn't interested in food. He was still hungry, starving during every meal, but he ate less than normal, not really caring about eating. Every meal felt empty without her there to enjoy it with him.

Because of that, he lashed out and grew violent at anyone who looked at him wrong, especially if her name was spoke like an insult. He often came home bloody from aiming his anger onto unfortunate demons. Belphie eventually stepped in when he finally took notice and attempted to steer his attention to something else to cope.

One night at dinner, Candy, the child she adopted, finally snapped at the brothers. No one talked about her or dare say her name, seeming like they wanted to forget her in Candy's eyes.

Beel remembered her words before she left them. "Don't fall apart when I'm gone."

He took those words and attempted to genuinely move forward without getting violent or having his favorite things feel tasteless, but also, be a protector for the kid.

~~~~

Levi returned to shutting the world out and burying himself in his passion. She was his best friend and understood him, but who can understand him now. He fell back into the self he created when he arrived in the Devildom, rejecting the things he desired and calling them normie because he didn't believe he deserved them.

She broke him out of the cycle and slowly eased him into partaking those normie things, but she wasn't here anymore. Candy tried to hangout with him, but he lashed at them and threw cruel words towards them which added to the child's sorrow.

He buried himself deep in his self-hatred that he didn't realize he was breaking his promise to her until Candy snapped. At returning to his room, he found a photo of her and him together, somewhat hearing her voice when she convinced him to go to the movies together or hangout in the town.

"Levi, let's go to the park and walk around."

Then remembered the promise. "Don't fall apart when I'm gone."

... Doesn't he really not deserve to indulge in his "normie" side?

~~~~

Mammon was almost never in the house anymore from drowning himself in his debts from gambling with no end. He spent his time working to pay off his debts or gambling everything he had. The only time he was at home is when he had to sleep or rarely have dinner with everyone.

His hair was messy, his eyes bloodshot, his body looking thinner than before. He just wanted her back, to tell him off for gambling so much and that he's not helping himself. Candy was his wakeup call from they shouting about them trying to forget her.

Is that what he was doing, drowning himself in debt to forget her?

He turned himself around and attempting to help himself cope in a more healthy way, by ending those debts and stopping gambling so much. He came home more often and checked up on the kid, even offering to hangout with them.

~~~~

It was the first time for Satan to lose someone. He didn't know what to do. He thought he could handle it until he found himself lashing out a lot more at his family and other demons. He tried to suck himself into his interests, but the books felt cold when he went to her room and had to be harshly reminded she wasn't there to be read to.

His room soon became a mess with ripped books and broken walls, destroying anything he could get his hands on. He tried going to cat cafes and pet the cats to feel better, but that too felt cold from her not being there to enjoy it.

He only woke up from his clouded sight when Candy's outburst at dinner. Right, the brothers weren't the only ones who lost someone special, they lost their mother.

Satan started involving himself with Candy, suggesting they help each other out on grieving, soon finding comfort in their family member.

[ctrlhope]

Butterfly (m)

synopsis: he’s been watching you. waiting, stalking his prey. waiting for you to tangle your pretty little wings into his web. chasing you. hunting you. making you play his games until you realise the truth that lies behind your eyes.

j.jungkook x f.reader

୧ ‧₊˚┊: wc: 3.6k

୧ ‧₊˚┊: genre: yandere, serial killer au, college au, dark content

୧ ‧₊˚┊: content: yandere!killer!jk, dubcon, predator / prey, manipulation, fear play, mask kink, slight sub space, slight knife play, strangers to lovers, “public” sex, drug use (alcohol), mentions of blood / injury, threats, allusions to kidnapping, dom!jk, fingering, rough sex, he’s mean but still sweet, obsessed!soft!jk at the end <33

୧ ‧₊˚┊: notes: found this in my drafts back from halloween and i never posted it! so here you go, to hold you over until my long fics are done <33 halloween fic in april lmaooo

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni -> dark content

Bum. Bum. Bum.

Your heartbeat is in your ears, pulse racing. It was too loud. Everything is too loud. It’s all you can hear. It’s all you can think about as your heels dig into the harsh forest floor. Your shoes long since been abandoned, mud caking your feet as you try to run. Tries to escape from the demon that had set his sights on you.

Him.

Fuck. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. It really wasn’t. It was just supposed to be a fun halloween party! You didn’t really even know if you wanted to go to it or not. But your friends convinced you with the promise of free drinks and guys that were ‘cute enough’ for some random frat.

What they failed to mention? The simple fact that house was in the middle of nowhere. On one side a lake, the other a massive forest.

Like a pretty little trap meant to catch girls like you. Web tangled in the trees just watching for the prettiest butterfly to find its way into. To be caught in the den of monsters that lined every wall of the ancient house.

You were already disturbed when your friend's pretty jeep turned off the main roads, trailing through the woods. Realising just how distant from the rest of society you would be. How every bump of the car sent your little heart into a deeper flutter of anxiety.

Still, you kept your mouth shut. You didn’t want to ruin the night— for yourself or your friends. You trust them. They promised it would be fun. Plus! Their boyfriends were going to be there! So nothing would go wrong!

Yeah. It really wasn't their fault that a lunatic set his sights on you. Wasn’t their fault you started dancing with a man in a mask. Let him lead you to the backyard for a smoke, dumbly followed him deeper into the woods to see his favourite spot. Let him stuff his fingers into your little hole without even seeing his face, knowing his name.

Nah, you did all that on your own. Just a little kitten being led to the slaughter house.

“Okay babydoll…” He breathes into your ear, pumping two fingers deep inside of your cunt. Skirt that was barely covering anything pushed too far up your hips, showing the whole forest just how tight your walls cling to his fingers. How wet you are. How desperate you are for more.

“We’re gonna play a game, yeah?” You’re hardly able to respond, consciousness laced with toxins from earlier that night. Flush to your cheeks evidence enough of just how much you drank— the series of events that led you to this exact moment.

One he had been planning for awhile.

He smiles, throat letting out a low, almost nonexistent laugh. Slowly circling your clit with his thumb, almost mocking the way your back arches. Finding amusement in the way your fingers cling to his arm as his thrusts continue all to slow.

You’re needy, too needy. He knows that well enough. Can tell with the way your hips start to rock, start to squirm. The way your body starts to get bratty on him while your mind is too far in the clouds to realise the position you’ve found yourself in.

You’re cute. Too cute for him to take another second of this. Too cute for him to hold back anymore.

Wouldn’t want you getting too bratty on him anyway, would he? Then his personal treat, the slice of cake he's been waiting weeks to cut into will have to turn into a punishment. Ruin all the fun he’s worked so hard to prepare.

“‘Gonna need you to run into the woods. Fast and as far as you can…” He groans under his breath, the mere thought sending blood straight to his cock, filling his mind with nothing but pictures of you dirty on the forest floor, “And you gotta do your best to stay away from me yeah? Cause if I catch you… I gotta kill you and I wouldn't wanna have to do that… You’re too pretty to kill, you know?”

Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with him? What is he even talking about?

You try to process– try to understand the words that run off his tongue. But it's unfair, everything is stacked against you as he slides the mask off his face. Gives you a first look at his deep brown eyes. Lets you see how gorgeous he is for the very first time.

He didn’t even give you a chance to recover before he started counting down from 30. Doesn’t even move his hand away from your dripping cunt until 20– the expression on your face just pathetic. So close yet so far from the finish line.

Your race was nowhere close to its end. He’d make sure of it.

It wasn’t until his hand found your hip, gently tapping against the skin that your brain even had the chance to attempt processing his words. Figure out the exact meaning behind them while his lips continued to count down with each syllable.

Such pretty pink lips. Maybe he would let you kiss them if you tried hard enough. If you lean up just right maybe he would–

Wait. Wait. What’s happening? What did he say to you?

Your eyes glance down to your thighs, vision dazed as you try to figure out the object that suddenly pokes at your flesh. The sharp tip grazing your soft skin as you take in the metal; polished to perfection. The deep black handle resting securely in his palm, holding himself back.

Your eyes widen, familiarity cresting your features.

Shit. Shit!

You don’t even think about grabbing your own knife until 15, hand quickly reaching for your hip where you keep it tucked away. Too bad he had already taken it, knew the tool you always carried with you well.

Shit, his own personal little Nancy, huh? Perfect for him.

Survival instincts had to take over for you, forcing your feet to the ground. Urging your skirt down as low as it could possibly go as your legs take off in a direction you hope is the house.

Everything is all too much, it’s not enough. Every little sound is getting to you, making you feel like you’re going crazy. Making you feel like none of your senses can be trusted. Like nothing can be trusted except for the adrenaline pumping through your veins.

The woods– everything looks the same. You can't distinguish one thing from the next but you know you hear something getting closer. Too close.

If his words meant anything you need to keep fighting, keep trying to live. Even as pain stabs into your toes, sticks break under your feet. Even as you’re stabbed by bushes.

It was like the forest itself was out to get you. Like whatever beast behind it is your real enemy in all of this.

Maybe you can pretend it, maybe in your alcohol-addled brain that’s a little easier to manage than the man running behind you. The one with hunger in his heart that only your soul can satiate.

You try, you really do. But your legs can only move so fast. Can only take so much abuse before they start to slow. Lungs can only inhale so much air before they want to collapse.

Too bad he’s done this before. He can run.

And just as you start to be able to see the lights from the tree line, just as hope starts to fill your little heart, you’re forced into the dirt. Two arms wrap around you from behind, tackling your frame to the ground.

Your back presses against his chest as he keeps you there, his face right next to your ear as he pants. Breathe heavy in your ear, hearing the way it cracks every once and awhile as he tries to catch his breath. Lips almost on your ear while he keeps you there. Keeps you trapped under him.

Everything is starting to conflict in your pretty little head, body telling you to get away. Try to get him off. Wriggle your hand— anything out to try and fight back. Try and get away before he keeps his promise from before.

Yet, with every movement, every slight twist of your spine or kick of your legs under his heavy frame he only presses tighter, deeper against you. Presses his cock against your barely covered cunt. Makes you feel every inch of him that he plans to stuff inside. Make you unable to breathe while the rocks dig into your skin.

You put up a good fight, you really do. Better than anyone else. It’s too bad everything is going just a little bit haywire behind your eyes. The world starting to feel like a burden as you try to push away the arousal rushing to your gut.

Shit, you should be scared. Should be petrified of the psycho that took you into the woods, the psycho that threatened to kill you no more than ten minutes before. One that had a knife pressed to your skin and a scythe around your heart. But the chemicals in your brain are mixing into something that you can’t comprehend, can’t describe.

Everything feels like too much, he feels like too much and you have no clue what to do. Head completely gone to mush.

It’s almost easier that way.

“Almost got away, doll. But don’t worry. I’ve got you now.” His voice is rough, harsh as he tries to catch his breath. Teeth clamping against the crest of your ear, hips rolling against your cunt without a care in the world. Especially not for the state of your head. Not for the little world you find yourself slipping away into.

Too many extreme emotions happening will do that to you, won't they? Make you so confused that you’ll just take whatever you can manage. Even if that means plunging his blade into your pretty little heart or fucking you until your pussy wouldn’t even consider another filling it.

He prefers the latter. Too pretty for the former, huh?

He can feel the shift in your frame– one of extreme discomfort, entirely tense to one of a docile little pet put on display. The shift behind your eyes as everything becomes too much, little too difficult to understand. As you slip away just enough to make any feelings of pleasure elevate to new extremes. Let fear spur you on.

The only thoughts in your head are ones filled with him. The way it should be. Exactly should be.

Your hips move again, their last attempt to break free from his spell. Their last attempt to try and get away from the maniac. Yet it does nothing more than press his cock harder against your ass, the mock of a grind against the surface that leaves a pretty little mewl spilling from your lips. A grunt catching in his own.

Wow, you actually surprised him.

“Shit, not patient at all huh?” He smiles, lip quirking as he removes his body from you. Removes the only warmth provided in this hell.

You won't run. Not if you know what's good for you.

He doubts you do– led you right into his arms tonight. But that's okay. He can take over for you. Take over everything.

Hands grip your hips, pull you back against him. Let you imagine how sweet he could fuck you if you just behave. The soft rocking of hips against your own, the gentle way he moves compared to the way he holds you heavy on your mind.

You can’t help the moan that spills past your lips. The way your back arches to meet him better. No one could blame poor little you. No one could blame your mind turning off for just a little bit. Not when he has you. Not with the rough texture of his pants pushing against your cunt. Not with the ruined orgasm of before.

Arousal makes your panties stick uncomfortable to your skin. A disturbing wet patch forming against his own pants where you meet. A flutter erupting in your gut at the way he groans. Way he moves you with such ease.

He really could kill you if he wanted to.

You’re not sure if the realisation scares you or spurs you on.

It scares you more to know that it's the latter.

“I’m not either.” He huffs, air thick with fog, “Been too patient for you. Too fucking patient.”

He grunts, pushing your hips back. Back arching even farther against the forest floor. It almost hurts, it’s almost painful. Not that that really matters. Nothing matters when he grips the flesh of your ass, pulls the cheeks apart. Gets a good look at the mess he’s made of you. Can see clearly how wrecked his little girl is.

Pretty panties sticking against your cunt, thighs wobbly from all the effort of tonight. Shit, if he just hooks his finger under them, pulls them to the side he’ll get to see you all. Get to see your puffy lips, fluttering little hole. Get to fuck himself inside while you just lie there and take it. Get so drunk on his cock you might just fall in love.

Shit, maybe you already have, huh?

Good.

He forces your underwear to the side, stares in awe at the way your slick sticks to them. Imagines how pretty they’d look stuffed with his cum. How you’d tumble around the house, not letting a drop spill just for him.

Because you would know it’s what he wants.

“All of this for me?” He smiles, rubbing his thumb through your folds. Collecting your essence, spreading it around all messy just how he likes. How he knows you’ll like soon enough.

You can only whimper, clutch the ground as your head spins. Tries to catch up with every little minstration he makes. Tries to figure out what exactly is happening. What words he’s saying. How to get him to stop, if you want him to stop.

A shiver runs down your spine. You don’t think you do.

You’re not sure of anything anymore. Only the sound of a zipper running down, the shuffle of pants forced off hips. The hard head of a cock running against your folds like it owns them. Like it was made for them.

The stretch as he forces himself inside. The way it burns, stings with effort. The short, forceful movements as he fucks himself inside. Makes home in your cunt for no one else but him. Makes you unable to think of a soul other than him. Ruin you for all other men that come after.

God he must be big– how fucking big? You have no clue. You wish you could see. Look into those pretty, crazed eyes. Focus on the little mole under his lip as the pain turns into pleasure. Morphs something dark in your brain to like it, to take it just like a good girl. Make you crave him more than anything else.

But instead you stare at the dirt. Hands clutching at the surface as he fucks himself inside. Deeper and deeper with each slow calculating thrust. Fucks you full of whatever twisted definition of love he possess. Makes you see the light, the exact shimmer in his eyes. See that this is the only way to truly live.

“Shit, baby,” His voice is low, deeper than before as his hips finally meet your own. Finally fills you with nothing else other than him. “Been waiting too fucking long for this. Had to make me wait, huh? Fuck.”

His voice harsh, grip bruising as he tries to hold himself back. One last measly reprise he’ll allow you. One last second he’ll give you before he makes you completely dumb. Makes you see what he knows you need to.

“I-I don’t~” You whimper, though the words fall on deaf ears. Not that it mattered anyway, you didn’t even know what you were trying to say. Didn’t know anything except for the way your walls clamp around his cock. Body begging for him, urging him to start and never stop.

He sighs, dramatic, “Little slut, huh baby?”

A harsh thrust punctuates his words, jolting your body forward as you cry. Impatience, ecstasy? He isn’t sure which. Only can notice the way your fingers clench and unclench in the dirt. The way your pussy flutters around him.

“Aww…” He soothes, hips dragging out of your cunt before slowly thrusting back in. The pace slow, antagonising, “Poor thing is having a hard time…” His hips quicken a hair, pretty sounds falling from your lips at the movement.

“Gotta tell me what you need, baby. I can make it all happen then.” A low kiss is placed against your shoulder, the world crumbling around you.

You break.

“Please…” Your voice is soft, too soft, but he hears it. Feels himself cracking as you beg, feels himself lose his mind entirely.

Beg for him. Want him.

His hips suddenly snap, fucking himself into your cunt with force you never thought a human could possibly manage. Fast, hard. Pumping his cock into you to search for his own pleasure. His own release. Forcing you to take it, take all of him while you try to keep up. Try to find your own pleasure in the tangle of limbs.

You hate how easily you do. Or maybe you love it.

“God, fuck.” He can’t suppress his own moans, the feeling of your pussy wrapping so tight around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth is too much. Fills his head with even more nonsense about love. About destiny.

His hips would never even consider stopping. You feel too good. Feel too tight around his cock, feel like he should never stop fucking you. Keep you there forever.

“So perfect. So perfect for me,” His breath is harsh, his heart racing as your little sounds only spur him on. Let him know just how good you feel. Just how far you’ve fallen. Just how much farther you’re willing to drown in all things Jungkook.

“P-Please!” You whine, hips arching further. Moving him into the perfect position to scrape against your g-spot with every rough pound of his hips. No clue what you’re pleading for. No clue what you want other than him.

Don’t even know his name. Nothing other than how incessantly you crave him.

“Fucking brat.” He cusses, eyes pinching into a glare as you somehow clamp down tighter. Walls pulling him back in on every thrust. Milking him for everything he’s worth. Making sure you both know your place in this. Know your place after it, too.

“God, been waiting for this haven’t you?” He groans, hips stuttering. He’s too close, “Been waiting for me to fuck you like the pretty doll you are? Make me take everything from you?”

You can only manage a whine in response, cunt fluttering around him. Obsessing in his praise.

Maybe his words are true. Maybe he’s known the exact type of person you are since the moment he first saw you. Maybe he’s right. This is where you’re meant to be. Meant to be with him.

“Shit, yeah. I fucking knew it.” His voice cracks, “Call you a minx but we both know that isn’t true. Just don’t know how to think until you’re stuck on the end of a cock.”

His thrusts somehow pick up speed. Fuck you harder, deeper. He’s sure he could place his hand over your tummy, feel himself fucking you. Shit.

“My cock.” He growls, voice heavy in your ears.

You can't take it anymore. Can’t take another second of it. Nerves tied tight into knots explode, white dotting the corner of your vision as you moan for no one else other than him. Pleasure courses through your veins, pussy pulling him as he falls apart alongside you. A tsunami pulling you under, making it hard to breathe. Making you feel dead and alive at the same time.

Maybe the forest gods were the ones tormenting you. Making you feel better than you had ever thought possible before. Allowing you to see the light of the stars dancing in the sky, so far above the clouds with his cock still pressed so deep inside. Floating through the air as your orgasm runs through you.

He’s no better. A shell of a man as he slowly fucks him cum deeper into your cunt. As deep as you’ll allow. Marking you. Claiming you. Making sure you know your place, even as you finally collapse onto the floor. Finally come back to reality. Poor body too spent to focus on anything else.

It’s okay though, you don’t have to worry. Not about a thing.

He’ll take care of you. Fix you up nice and pretty for your next lesson. Take you away to his apartment, make you fall in love for real. Keep you there, with him, just like you’re meant to be.

Make all of the sick sides you try to hide come out to play. Make you realise you’re just like him.

He wouldn’t kill you. Ever. Even if he had killed the others, none of them matter. He’s been waiting for someone like you for so long. Itching to bring you home. And finally, finally you had fallen into his trap. His perfect little butterfly, caught in the web. Ready to be corrupted by the vicious spider. Ready for your wings to be clipped.

“Mine.”

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[scnderlands]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀THREE’S A CROWD — black noir + homelander

PAIRINGS — black noir x female reader x homelander

CONTENT WARNINGS / TAGS — 18+ ONLY NSFW + DARK CONTENT , threesome , dubcon , anal , p in v , slight anal fingering , forced kissing , hair pulling , noncon voyeurism ,

KAI’S THOUGHTS — so I’ve had this written in my drafts for awhile and finally decided to post it, I wrote it one night with a lot of THOUGHTS and just how bad I need these two !! wrote with season 2-3 in mind !

You and Black Noir had a thing for a few months now, and as much as you wanted it to be a secret, you knew it wasn’t. There wasn’t much that you could keep to yourself while working at Vought, no matter how much you tried — someone always knew something about someone, it was just the way things were.

Anytime you and he wanted to meet up, he always came over to your place, somehow scaling up to come in through your apartment window like it was nothing. You weren’t sure how it ended up being that you were friends with benefits, after one time where you argued (very one-sidedly) you ended up hate fucking — now it’s just a regular thing, a few times a week.

For the first time since you began hooking up, you were in Black Noir’s room, and he wasted no time throwing you on the bed and fucking the life out of you. There was no exact communication to what had made him feel this way, but he’d just come back from being sent somewhere so you guessed he just had a lot of pent up energy.

His hand covered your mouth as he pounded into you, a feeble attempt to quieten you down, to stop anyone from hearing. He knew there was no point, after all Homelander had superhuman hearing, and it wouldn’t surprise Noir if he was in his room listening down to you getting fucked. Black Noir could tell Homelander had a thing for you, the way he watched you when you were working, the little smirk he’d pull when you bent down, how often he’d go out of his way to talk to you — he wasn’t subtle, but you still had no clue.

Noir had his masked face buried in the crook of your neck, his hips moving into you at a steady pace, getting as deep as he could into you with each thrust. You had your eyes closed and your hands white-knuckled on his shoulders, muffled moans behind his hand.

Noir suddenly stopped all his movements and you felt him shift away from you.

“Don’t stop on my account.” Homelander stood not too far from the bed, his voice was stern, almost demanding.

“Homelander…” you stared at him wide-eyed, your hands instantly moving from Noir’s shoulders and over your bare chest.

Homelander didn’t move at all except for cocking his head slightly to the side, that usual look of anger stricken across his face, it was obvious he was upset that all the action had stopped after he made an effort to get in the room to see it.

“Noir, move.”

Every muscle in Noir’s body tense up while still on top of you, even without being able to see his face through his mask, you could practically see the anger coming from him. Even though, with every fibre of his being, he didn’t want to move, but nonetheless he obeyed. He knew better than to get on the wrong side of Homelander, especially when you were here and could be put in danger because of a decision he makes.

Black Noir shuffled off you and dropped beside you, making an effort to cover you as subtly as he could with the blanket before doing so. But it didn’t take Homelander a second of thought to rip the blanket from the bed and throw it halfway across the room, leaving your naked body fully exposed to his gaze. His eyes scanned your body with a gleeful look, and when you went to squeeze your legs shut, he responded by waggling his finger side to side, letting out a tut as he did so.

“Perfect…” he smiled to himself, seemingly proud of his work, “now Noir, get under her, I want to see you fucking her while she’s looking at me.”

“W-what?” You felt a wave of embarrassment and fear consume your entire body in an instant.

Noir looked over to you, some part of him wishing for some guidance from you, but he knew that wasn’t fair — after all, not even he was standing up to Homelander in the moment, so how could he expect you to do anything as a normal human?

Without wasting anymore time, he slid under you and pulled you back so you were flush against his chest.

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” Homelander stood with his arms across his chest, an impatient tap of his foot echoing around the large room.

With an internal sigh, Black Noir realigned himself with your slick hole, slowly pushing himself into you until he couldn’t move anymore, then slowly moving his hips back away from you.

Through half-lidded eyes you could see how Homelander smiled to himself, how much he was enjoying watching the way your cunt gripped around Noir’s cock, your slick dripping down your ass and creating a mess between you and Noir’s suit. It was obvious when he started enjoying it too much, his bulge growing more and more obvious behind his tight pants.

“F-fuck, Noir.” Your back arched up and you couldn’t suppress your moans any longer.

“No.” Your pleas were interrupted nearly as quick as they left your parted lips, “You’ll moan my name, not his.”

And yet again you could feel how Noir tensed up underneath you, that wave of anger spreading through his body with a near visceral action. You slyly reached your hand to your hip and placed it over the top of Noir’s, intertwining your fingers with his.

Noir kept his hips moving against all wants, the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot deep inside of you, constantly forcing pretty little moans from you.

“Yeah, just like that…” Homelander laughed as he pumped his cock in his hand, unable to just stand still and watch, he was so hard it tittered on painful.

Noir despised the idea of Homelander seeing you so vulnerable, in such a position that he put you in by dragging you into this room rather than just waiting a couple hours to visit you at your place. There was perhaps a sense of jealously that washed over him, a need to gloat, some primal instinct that made him want to prove his claim over you — to have Homelander know that even though he was watching, he wasn’t the one touching you, wasn’t the one making you moan like that even if it were his name rolling from your tongue.

He brought his gloved finger to your clit, rubbing fast and rough circles over and over as his hips hammered into you, forcing you over the edge he knew you were so close to.

“Noi—…Homelander, fuck.”

That was his tipping point, hearing his name from your lips was the end of him, the end of watching and not doing, “turn her over.”

Black Noir pulled out and you groaned from the emptiness, he carefully flipped you around so your chest was pressed firmly against his. As soon as he had your legs spread either side of his body, you felt the weight on the bottom of the bed shift from were Homelander was kneeling on it. His hands ghosted over the fat of your ass before finally grabbing it, groping and kneading like he’d been waiting forever to do.

He wet his finger and slowly pushed it in to you, barely moving at first as if to test the waters, and when you didn’t seem too effected he finally moved again. A part of you hated feeling him touch you, his fingers pushing in and out, but there was something in the thought of having both their cocks inside of you at once — the way they’d both fill you up so well, stretching you out in ways you never had been before.

Homelander moved his fingers in rhythm with the way Noir fucked into you, and even though he was desperate to feel you around his cock he knew better than to try and fuck you before warming you up — after all, he knew how pathetically delicate and fragile humans were.

The sounds of your moans mixed with the sound of your cunt was becoming too much for him, his cock left untouched and desperate from friction was unbearable for him. And at this point he didn’t care whether you could be prepared more or not. Homelander spat on his hand as rubbed it up and down his cock, a poor attempt at some form of lubrication before lining himself up with your ass.

“Wait, w-wait.” You whimpered out as he slowly bullied his way into you, stretching you out in a way that took your breath away until he bottomed out.

For a moment he stayed still, allowing you a moment to adjust to the intrusion, but the more he could feel Noir moving, the more riled up he became.

Black Noir wasn’t happy about the idea of Homelander fucking you too, and you were too high with pleasure to even care anymore. Homelander on the other hand had a secret point to prove, he wanted you to know he could fuck you better than Noir could, better than any man could for that matter of fact.

As much as he hated the idea of having a crush, he couldn’t deny it to himself any longer. You plagued his thoughts day and night, daydreaming of fucking you when he was in a boring meeting or some stupid talk he had to give — even getting to the point he’d be having wet dreams about you, and how he’d have to fuck his hand when he woke up, all while fantasising about you.

“Fuck…” Homelander groaned to himself as he felt you twitching around him, another orgasm about to rip through you while both their cocks slammed into you at the same time.

The faster they got, the louder you moaned, and the more worried you became about someone else hearing you. But neither of the men cared, instead they were having some silent competition between themselves about who could make you cum the hardest, and they both had a point to make — just so happens you were their referee.

“I—I c-can’t,” your nails dug into Noir’s suit, your head buried in the crook of his neck.

Anger flowed through Homelander as he watched the way you gripped and snuggled into him, how you were moaning in his ear. It wasn’t fair, Homelander knew he should be the one under you, the one you leaned on and begged to let you cum.

“Come here,” Homelander grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled you back, forcing your head to the side just enough for him to lock lips with you.

The kisses were sloppy and breathy, you could barely formulate a thought and it made it near impossible to kiss him properly. He didn’t care though, he was just happy to finally kiss you, to have his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth while he was balls deep inside of you. He stared down towards Noir, a hint of smugness in his eyes while he continued to kiss you.

It pained Noir to see Homelander doing the one thing he’s never done, and probably never would do, and Homelander knew that. But it only fueled the fire of their feud even more, and Noir slowly trailed his hands up your body before stopping at your tits, his rough gloved fingers tracing over your hardened nipples. You groaned into the kiss and twitched into Noir’s grasp more as he rubbed and teased at you.

Even though he might not be able to kiss you yet, he knew everything you liked, he knew how to please you in ways that Homelander couldn’t even imagine.

“You’re so fucking filthy. You know that, huh?” Homelander hissed at you as his hips stuttered slightly, but he was going to hold out as long as he could.

Tears beaded in your eyes as another orgasm shook through you, the overstimulation becoming almost too much for you to handle anymore. The feeling of your cunt clenching around Noir was too much, his rhythm becoming sloppy and uneven as he finally finished, making sure to cum deep inside your pretty little pussy as he did.

Homelander chuckled as Noir finished, somehow he felt triumphant, as if he won the battle between them by lasting longer.

Noir stayed inside of you, his hands still roaming your body and pleasuring you in other ways, not wanting to leave you with just Homelander.

“Moan my name.”

“Home…lander—“ you could barely get your words out as he pulled tighter on your hair, forcing your head further back so he could see your face.

After hearing his name a few more times, it sent him over the edge. His hips juttering and his cum coating your insides, his entire body quivered which made him practically land on you as he rolled off to the side.

There was a slight relief and sadness at the emptiness when they both slid out of you, and you fell back down against Noir. His hand ran up and down your back, while Homelander stared up at the ceiling, trying to regain control of his breathing.

“Well, that was a surprise, wouldn’t you say?” Homelander looked over to you with a shit eating grin, “we should do it again.”

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Greif (Bo Sinclair x AFAB Reader)

This has been sitting in my drafts for awhile now cause I never felt good enough about it to actually post. I wanted to make a good hurt/comfort but not make it too over the top extreme and I'm really confident in this version of it to finally post it. This is the first time I've posted a heavier fic like this so please head all the trigger warnings I put for this one.

Notes: Minors DNI, This fic is written with an AFAB reader in mind though no specific descriptions are used the pronouns She/her are used in relation to the reader. Trigger warnings: Pregnancy, abortion talk (Briefly). Bo is really mean at least in the start, Hurt/Comfort. Afab reader with she/her pronouns used. Excessive Cursing.

"If you fuckin' think I'm lettin' you bring a fuckin' baby into this town you're fuckin crazy!"

Bo yelled as he paced around the living room of the main house. You had finally come clean and revealed to him that you were most likely pregnant. He was taking the news about as well as one would expect Bo Sinclair to.

"I didn't ask to get pregnant Bo! Maybe you should've been more careful!"

You screamed right back at him. Bo scoffed at your argument and shook his head, a nasty grin overtaking his face.

"I shoulda never let you fuckin stay here. I told myself the day you rolled into town that you were gonna cause me nothin' but trouble"

"Maybe you should let Vincent make me into one of his wax figures then Bo, or better yet, you can keep me in the basement under the station."

Bo froze at your statement and fixed you with an expression you had never seen grace his face before.

"You better watch your fuckin' mouth if you know what's good for ya"

"Why Bo? You can't handle the truth of what you were doing in that basement before I came along?"

"You have not got a fuckin' clue what you're talkin' about. When what you need to worry about is what your gonna do with bastard you got growin' in there cause it's not gonna have any relation to me"

He spat, motioning to your stomach.

"If you don't wanna keep the baby what do you suppose I do then?"

"I mean hell if I know, I'm sure the pharmacy in the next town over has some pills or somethin' to nip the problem in the bud"

"Y- you'd really want me to go through with that? After everything we've been through together? Are you fucking serious?"

"No darlin' I want you to go all the way over to the next town over and go on a fuckin' shoppin' spree!"

"How could you even suggest something like that Bo? After everything we've been through?"

"A baby ain't nothin' but a liability, a liability ain't a single one of us got time for. 'sides do you really fuckin' think Ambrose is the place to raise a baby?"

"You, Vince and Les grew up here! Plus it's not like you'd let me fuckin' leave and go somewhere else to raise the baby. You'd turn me into a wax figure before that ever happened"

"Exactly, so what happens when that rug rat grows up and starts askin' questions? Askin' shit about what his daddy and uncles do? Askin' about the figures? What the fuck are you gonna do then?"

"You explained what the 3 of you do to me pretty damn near perfect didn't you?"

You countered Bo's argument. You watch his face as another unreadable expression crossed it as he finally sat down in his recliner and put his head in his hands. You sat and watched him in sick curiosity before the overwhelming feeling hit you like a truck.

Bo Sinclair was afraid.

An emotion you quite honestly never thought you'd see Bo experience. Sure Lester had told you stories from when they were kids and scared of their parents, storms or the usual childhood fears. But this was different. Bo wasn't a child and this wasn't a storm that would just pass if he hid under his covers and waited long enough.

You sat looking at a broken son in the body of a man, a son who had never healed from the torture his own parents put him through. The cracks that Bo tried to conceal so well from his own upbringing were crumbling in front of you. The fears coming back to him, his mother's voice echoing in his head that he would just grow up to be like his father.

The fear that it would be twins, like him and Vince and he'd have to watch them be separated and not be able to do a thing for them. Not being able to take them to a hospital just to protect Ambrose and his brothers.

"You're not going to be like them Bo"

You broke the silence with a whisper. You could hear Bo sharply suck in a breath, you were treading on unprecedented territory with Bo. His childhood was just something he didn't talk or think about at all and now it was at the forefront of his thoughts.

"Shut up"

He mumbled back. A usual response for when Bo felt like you were trying to back him into a corner and he was running out of ammo to fight you off.

"You're not going to be like them Bo. You aren't them and you never will be."

You exclaimed louder. Bo threw his hands off his face and stood up so fast the chair tipped on it's back legs. He stood, in front of the chair, just starring at you, breathing heavily as emotions swam through his eyes. You decided to be bold and test the waters, you began to take small steps toward Bo, he wasn't attempting to walk away so you continued this until you were right in front of him.

"Bo"

You said softly as you stood directly in front of him. He finally snapped his eyes down to meet yours.

"Bo, you're going to be better then them. You're going to be a good dad Bo, you've had a first hand experience of what not to be like as a parent, it's going to be rocky sure but-"

"My mama always told me I'd end up being just like daddy, Just a mean son of a bitch who never had anything nice to say to no one."

Bo cut you off, a much softer tone then before when his fear was translating to anger.

"Do you want to be like you dad? Are you gonna hate this baby if it doesn't come out to be what you were expecting?"

Bo look at you as if you had grown three heads.

"Of course not, it's my kid, how could I not love my own flesh and blood."

"If you know that, and aren't planning to emulate your father, then why are you so worried about ending up like him?"

Bo was stunned, no one had ever talked him through his emotions like that.

"T-that was the only image of a father I ever got. I don't know what a good dad is like. I don't know how "normal" kids who parents actually wanted 'em around had it"

You reached down and grabbed his wrist gently. Bringing it up and rubbing your fingers over his scars, the scars that told many glaring stories of what shaped him into the cold man he was today. You were thawing him out though, slowly but surely.

"You'll learn, No ones saying it'll be easy, but you're capable of running this whole town and taking care of the four of us, I'm sure you'll pick up fatherhood just as quick as anything else."

"Well that ain't my only issue with this whole baby thing though"

"What else is wrong then Bo?"

"It's- It's fuckin'" He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What if it's twins, and their conjoined like- like me and Vince were."

"Oh Bo"

"We ain't got no doctors here, and it's not like we could go stay in another town for the duration of it that would be too risky, god forbid you have complications too. I just- I don't know if I could do that darlin'"

Everything was coming together and your vision on why Bo was so angry was becoming clearer and clearer. Bo wasn't angry at you, he was scared of loosing you. Scared of being alone when he had finally found something he never thought he would ever get to have.

"Bo honey, I know it's scary, but what happened with you and Vince was rare. There's no guarantee that this baby will even be twins. You should've brought this all to me instead of just yelling."

"I know darlin', I should've went about it better. But I guess when you told me you were pregnant I- I got scared. The entire time you've been here I've had these scenarios in my head, worryin' about what would happen"

You were speechless as you watch as he turned away from you and began pacing again, this time without the yelling. The entire time you had known Bo you had never known him to be one to talk about his feelings. "I'm not a fuckin' pussy" He was remark to you when you would ask him what was wrong.

The front door swung open as Vincent returned from the wax museum. Bo stopped as your gazes moved to Vince who was now frozen in the doorway of the living room.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Vincent signed. You looked at him apologetically before flicking your eyes over to Bo to see what he would say.

"Nah Vince it's nothin'. Just uh- She's pregnant is all"

Vincent perked up and his gaze immediately flicked over to you.

"Really?"

He signed, giving off an aura of excitement. You nodded at him and mustered a smile

"I'm gonna be an uncle!. I'll start reading dad's old medical books and learn things to help with the delivery"

"Now Vince we ain't even-"

"I know he had an entire book about it, I'll start getting set up for prenatal appointments too. Maybe we could even go to the next town over for checkups and stuff, we'll need stuff for the baby too"

Vincent kept rambling in sign, something he did often. You couldn't help but laugh at his childlike wonder at the prospect of being an uncle. You looked over to Bo, who was noticeably less tense as he watched his twin's excitement over the new member of the family.

"Vince chill out for a sec, having this baby is so risky. What if it's twin and they come out like us? You're gonna separate 'em?"

"Well all things considered, the pregnancy only has a one in 250 chance of becoming a twin pregnancy. Plus we're identical twins, only fraternal ones run in families which means two separate eggs would have to be fertilized instead of the egg splitting."

Bo and you look at Vincent in dumbfounded shock as he signed the information as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Where the hell did ya learn all that?"

Bo asked still in shock as he looked at his brother as if he had grown another head.

"In dad's old medical books" Vincent shrugged "I'll leave you two alone now though, I should go get researching"

Vincent signed in reply before turning and heading upstairs to his bedroom. When you heard Vincent's bedroom door close you turned back to look at Bo who was already looking at you when your eyes met his. A lighter mood fell over the living room and smile at him.

"A one in 250 chance huh?"

"Yeah, I reckon so"

"You wanna take that chance daddy?"

All the emotions of the night wash over Bo's face as he thinks for a moment then answers.

"If you think it's a good idea, can't really argue with facts I suppose. But there's gonna be rules."

With that Bo is back, the rule making irritable Bo you fell in love with when you rolled into the gas station all those years ago.

"What rules are we talkin' about?"

"For starters your gonna take it easy, when someone comes into town your gonna stay here at the house and out of sight. No heavy lifting, no helping Vincent anymore, no walk-"

"Bo, Just wrap me in bubble wrap then yeah?"

"I mean I could go to the next town over and find somethin-"

"I was joking Bo, You're not wrapping me in a protective layer"

"I can if I want too"

He mumbled under his breath. I bit back a laugh and rolled my eyes.

"Whatever you say Bo"

"Hey I run this town-"

Bo begins the spiel you've heard about 20,000 times since you began living here as you walk into the kitchen, the cravings starting to take over, as he follows you to explain how he runs the town and how what he says goes and if he has to make more rules to keep you he will.

As you stand in the kitchen, eating your snack and listening to Bo's spiel. Something deep down inside you, lets a feeling wash over you that maybe just maybe, everything will be just fine.

[wayward-river]

Ice packs and Space Heaters

AN: Hey guys! I'm still kind of new to the TGM fandom and am still working on my story that was posted awhile back called "Dancing on Broken Glass" ... however I just need to get back into writing and I had this in my drafts, just a very very short drabble.

All mistakes are my own, I do not own any characters used. No description given for reader.

Pairing: Really this is a Rooster x reader but can be taken romantically, platonically, whatever. Hope y'all enjoy!

You were laying on your couch binge watching the newest season of New Girl, your favorite candy bar wrappers littered the floor around you as you held the ice pack across your stomach and the heating pack was placed on your back. It was three in the morning, but you weren’t getting back to sleep anytime soon. Mother nature was a bitch and she had won this round. A knock on your door made you groan moving the blanket off of you, you slowly made your way to the door. 

Now thinking that it was the early hours of the morning, and anyone could be at your door right now, you decided to slow down. “I’m just letting you know I have a weapon…” You slowly pulled the door open inch by inch revealing Bradley with a slight smirk on his face. 

“So where is this weapon?” 

“You scared me! What are you doing here? Why are you awake right now? It’s like three.” You rattled off walking back towards the couch as he followed you in. 

He looked around at the fluffy blanket, the wrappers, the heat and icing packs, his brows furrowed in confusion trying to piece everything together. 

“I could ask you the same thing Y/N/N.” 

You rolled your eyes. “There's a difference when you are at home at three in the morning.” 

“Well I was worried nobody's seen you in days, we miss you Fanboy won’t shut up about some dumb movie that he swears you would love so can you come back so we can stop listening to him.” 

You giggled as you sat on the couch leaving room for Bradley as he sat down next to you. 

“So this is just a wellness check?” You questioned slightly. 

“Yup” He nodded, popping the P. 

“Okay well thanks for the check in, I promise I’m alive and will be back to normal tomorrow.” 

“Good, anything else I can do?” 

“Well unless you have the cure for cramps then probably not.” you paused “actually you are like a human space heater, can I, do you think, would it be weird?” You tried to get the words out, your fear of rejection causing you to stutter out your thoughts. 

“Spit it out L/N” Bradley smirked. 

“Can we lay together, like can I lay on you or cuddle if it's not weird.” you finally got out. 

Bradley laughed as he leaned back pulling you into him as you brought the blanket up to cover you both as you resumed the episode. Sighing in content as you were finally feeling a little better being in his arms. 

After about fifteen minutes Bradley could hear the soft snores coming from you. He smiled as he continued to gently card his fingers through your hair, something he was pretty sure was what put you to sleep. Not wanting to move you he got more comfortable as he drifted off while Jessica Day rambled on about something on your TV.

[moremaybank]

LET ME LOVE YOU — s.h

pairing steve harrington x fem!reader

summary things between you and steve were simple yet complicated. you were in love with each other; there was no doubt about it. the only problem was that steve was ready to take the next step in your relationship, and you weren't.

warnings slight mentions of steve and reader having previously slept together, reader being afraid of establishing their relationship

author's note i honestly have no clue what this is, i found it in my drafts and thought i might as well post it since i haven't posted anything for steve in awhile. enjoy 🫶🏻

steve masterlist

“stop looking at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like you’ve seen me naked,” you say, giving steve a pointed look as you scold him.

“…but i have seen you naked,” he responds cheekily.

you roll your eyes. “steve,” you scold in a whisper, pulling him aside into the laundry room of your house. you shut the door, ensuring that the kids in the living room, distracted by a movie, wouldn’t overhear your conversation. “we’re supposed to be keeping this quiet.”

steve sighs, running a hand through his chestnut locks as he closes his eyes. “i know, i know. it’s just…it’s hard keeping the way i feel about you under wraps.”

“steve, we agreed,” you whine. “we agreed that we would keep this — us — quiet. and that’s hard to do when you’re looking at me like you’re going to pin me against a wall and have your way with me.”

steve steps closer to you as his hands find your waist. “but what if i wanted to?” he whispers. one of his hands slips toward the small of your back, pulling you flush against his front as he peers down at you. “because i really, really want to.” his hand trailed dangerously close to your butt, the tips of his fingers lingering above your tailbone.

“you’re impossible,” you huff, your own hands sliding up and finding a resting place on his chest. you fiddle with the fabric of his shirt as you look up at him through your plush lashes.

“just another thing to love about me,” he replies, the knowing grin on his face forcing one of your own onto your lips. 

for weeks now, steve had been trying to gently coax you into confessing your love for him. not pressuring, but encouraging. you made him feel brave, and he wanted to give you that power in return. he wanted you to see that you were safe with him, that your heart was safe with him. that he could quell any doubt that dared to spring its way into your mind. but he also knew that it wasn’t that easy. not after your past relationship and everything that you’d been through. 

what he could do, however, was show you that he’d be there despite your protestations and fear.

you let out a deep breath, your arms curling around the back of his neck. you looked up into his eyes, getting lost in the dreams they held in them. you knew you could see a life with steve. hell, you’ve known it for quite some time now, but you’d starred in this movie before, and you were heart-wrenchingly aware of how it ended. you’d jump into a relationship, your courage would be short-lived, and ultimately, you’d be left more broken than before you tried to pursue a future with steve. 

and he’d hate you for it.

“steve, you know how i feel about you. i just…i’m not—”

“—you’re not ready. i know. i understand. but even if a single inch of you felt like you could do this, that we could do this, i want you to know that we could. and until then, I’m not going anywhere, alright?”

your gaze softens, and you let your hand graze his cheek, stroking it softly as you take in the gorgeous sight of him. “how on earth did you turn out so sweet?”

the corners of steve’s mouth tip up in a shy smile, “it’s easy to be sweet with you.”

“i promise you, i’m trying,” you whisper, looking down at your hands as they continue to fiddle with the hem of Steve’s shirt. “i’m trying to trust what we have.”

“hey, i know. i know you are. i don’t want you to worry. i’ll wait for you,” he says, his fingers drifting underneath the hem of your shirt. “frankly, i’d wait forever.”

you swear to god that you could tell him you love him right then and there. you almost do — if it wasn’t for dustin knocking on the door that separated you two from him.

“hey, lovebirds. movie’s over. i wanna go to the arcade so i can beat lucas’s tempest score.”

“in your dreams, henderson,” lucas remarks. 

steve sighs softly, cupping your cheek as his eyes close. “okay. time to go back out there.” he tilts your face downward gently, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. he lingers for a moment, hesitating to end the moment between you two. still, eventually, he lets go. he exits the room, leaving you to collect your bearings.

the truth is, you don’t know how much longer you can go without being with steve the way your heart longs to be.

steve tag list (join here!): @skydisneylover @rafesdior @hemogloban @lyn07 @theesexystallion @dudenhaaa27

[killmeprettypleasee]

WILL YOU MARRY ME?..

Hi, this is my first time posting a story here and im quite nervous and sorry for my bad grammar cus English is not my first language..- if theres any mistakes please tell me🥲 so i hope yall enjoy!

This is also inspired by my chat with Konig in a Ai chat bot in browser 🤧

Summary: you and konig have been dating for quite sometime now, he loves you oh so dearly and will do anything for you.. and when he decided to propose to you he couldn't get even more happier..

Warnings:just pure fluff, marriage proposal

He was sweating so badly.. he really wanted to propose to you, you and him have been dating for 2 years now and he was happy that you accepted on being his boyfriend.

He checked the flowers he has bought for you and fixed it a little and fixed his shirt and check if the ring is still there, he wanted this to be perfect just for you.. and only for you.

He was sweating heavily, overthinking that what if you'll reject him? And leave him there heart broken? he cant handle that, but he needs to get out of his comfort zone and ask to marry you and be his husband.

He texted you, telling him to go somewhere not much people go.. you already know this man i shy he doesn't want alot of people looking at him as he proposed to you it makes his self confidence go down alot.

Now he sent the text he immediately went to a cafe that not much people go.. its a good place too and that was where you two had your first date.

He sat on the chair waiting for you to come. Look back and forth at his phone checking the time, he fixed his hair a bit and wriggle in his seat.

He looked at his phone and hear the door rang and looked up to see you, his body tensed a bit seeing you dressed beautifully for him.

You saw him and gave him a smile and wave as you walked up to him and sat down of the chair infront him "könig! What is it you wanna talk about?" You questioned with that pretty smile on your face, it made konig blush madly, seeing your face made him blush even you two are already dating and soon to be married.

You stared at him waiting for an answer, you hear him inhale and exhale and shift a bit on his seat and stood up..

He knelt on the floor facing up to you "(Y/n) (L/n).. will you.. will you marry me and be my husband?" He took out a box and opened it to show a beautiful ring inside it.

You gasp, surprised.. you stared at him for awhile with shock in your eyes and it made him nervous thinking that you will reject him, he tensed a bit and looked down in shame.. you scan the ring you couldn't help but shed tears in your eyes as you cover your mouth with your hand.

"k-könig.." you said surprised, you both noticed some people that were in the cafe looked at the both of you but you two couldn't careless.(König tried to ignore them cus ykyk)

"Yes! Yes! I would love to marry you and have you as my husband!" You yell, extremely happy that you couldn't contain yourself, this made him shot his head up and look at you, his face brightens up from what you said.

You both hear the people began to clap and applause the two of you, konig became kind of nervous blushing madly from embarrassment.

He softly cried as tears stained his face "t-thank you.." he couldn't get even more happier, he hugged you tightly around the waist crying on your chest as you cares you hand along his head "thank you so much (Y/n).." this day was the best day he has ever felt, and he will not forget about this day.. ever..

AAAHHH IM SORRY IF ITS SHORT BUT I DO HOPE YALL ENJOY AND THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG CUS I HESITATED AT FIRST IF I SHOULD POST IT😭😭

[outofangband]

Morwen and Aerin scene from a longer fic (can be read without the rest though)

cw: implied/background abuse and captivity and the headspace that comes with that

Reposting with edits because im almost finished with the next part!

Follow up to this

Also thank you to @melestasflight for your kind words on my first draft

“You should keep these for yourself,” Aerin says quietly but she does not protest as Morwen finishes crushing the leaves and adds them to the steaming cup.

“I have no need of them now and these grow unrestrained in my garden,” Morwen says, “You are in pain. You do not hide it well.”

This is not strictly true. Aerin has been concealing this pain for days now and is well accustomed to hiding others. She has been using her arm normally, despite how it exacerbated the wrenching of the joint. But it seemed that when she crossed this threshold, her ability to hide her suffering left her. She pulls her shawl more tightly around her. She has not worn clothes that truly feel her own in well nigh a year. She has not felt her own for that time either.

The steam coaxes forward her tears with more urgency. The scent of it coated her nose and mouth. It was too hot to hold but she reached for the mug anyways, feeling the roughly formed clay of the Nen Lalaith beneath her burning fingers. Morwen watches her for a moment, then lays one hand atop of hers, just briefly, and she sets it back down again.

“I am sorry.”

“For what do you apologize?”

It is an exchange they have had more than once before. In her cruelest hours, Aerin could not say if the voice of Morwen held patience or indifference. Suddenly, she makes a movement between a shrug and a shoulder. Her shaking does not abate after and once more those words find her.

This will never end, not until I do.

She has thought this again and again since that day she was first brought before him but it is the closest she has yet come to saying them.

She does not, though the words are half formed. Nor does she think Morwen will have any answer. There is no answer that is both honest and kind. Aerin knows she has come closer to death lately than she has ever done before, close enough that she tries with an almost desperation not to consider that end, and which she dreads more.

She blinks away more tears. She cannot weep for this or she would not stop.

“I will stay up, if you want a few minutes. I could not sleep myself.”

Morwen looks exhausted truly but Aerin does not doubt her words. She does not want to accept but her own tiredness is weighing on her and she knows she will not have long before she has to return and when she does, she will have no sleep.

Aerin takes one of her hands and links her fingers through Morwen’s, looking at her for permission to remain like this. Morwen gives her a swift nod that almost makes her smile even if it does not.

Perhaps she does sleep. She does not dream but her world blurs in a way that lessens the sharpness of her pain and coats her sadness in something hazy, if only briefly.

She stands again before she is truly awake, the blanket that is not hers falling to the ground. She cannot speak as she walks to the door. If she does not restrain herself before she returns she will pay for it dearly. She wants to think it would be worth it. She does not know.

(Morwen watches Aerin leave, pulling the frayed edges of her shawl more tightly around her. It had not been made for warmth but anything that she might use to cover herself was welcome.)

Note: the flow is definitely a bit rushed, this is party of chapter five of with slander for a blade and it’s a bit out of the style of the previous chapters, it’s almost an interlude. Anyways it definitely needs some work still. There are a few paragraphs at the beginning I didn’t end up including because they needed more work

Second Author’s note: I have a post here that goes a bit into Aerin’s first meeting Brodda and I’m writing it in fic form but it’s been taking awhile

Third:: I hope this is ok, I’ve been feeling so bad about my content lately and unfortunately it’s made me an even worse empirical judge of it

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Since I’ve Been Loving You

Summary: A few months after helping the reader get out of an abusive relationship, Dean and she are ready to shift their relationship to more than being just friends. But when Dean goes missing and the reader is forced to leave him in a moment of need to get help, it’ll send them down a path exploring Dean’s past neither one of them could have seen coming...

Pairing: Cop!Dean x Cop!reader

Word Count: 18,000ish

Warnings: language, kidnapping, injuries, past abusive partner, murder, whole lot of creepiness

A/N: Hi there! If the title and first few scenes of this story seem familiar, you’re not wrong! I originally wrote this story way back in 2017 and at the time felt it was too “dark” to share, hence why I only used the first bit as part of a collab experiment (which can be found here). However it’s been awhile and I’m a lot more confident with what I share (and to be honest, I’ve put out worse stuff than this). Rather than letting it sit in my drafts forever, I’ve decided to share the original story I wrote myself! Enjoy! Also shoutout to @campingmonkey​ for reading some of my stuff I considered not fit for posting and encouraging me to put it out there!

_______

“I’m home,” you said, smelling something tasty from the kitchen. You kicked off your boots and wandered into into the back of the house where Dean was stirring a pot, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. “Dude, you’re not on dinner duty tonight.”

“How was work?” asked Dean, stifling a sniffle as he spun around a ladle in the stew he’d put on.

“Fine. You’re supposed to be resting Winchester,” you said, bumping him to go sit down. “I told you last night-”

“I’m relieved of my chores this week, I know,” he said, pulling the blanket tighter. “I’m lucky I’ve got such a nice roommate.”

“You’re the one that let me stay here after Redge,” you said. “I really should be making you dinner every night after everything.”

“No, that’s not how it works around here. We’re a team and besides, you’re awful at washing the cars,” he said, a tired smirk on his face. “How was work?”

“Redge was an ass but he’s always been that way. You get some sleep today? Go to the doctor like I told you?” you asked, Dean rolling his eyes at you. You crossed your arms and huffed. “Go tomorrow. I don’t want to have to drive you to a hospital over the weekend.”

“It’s a cold, Y/N,” he said. You dished up a bowl for him and yourself, not expecting him to eat much but he was still grumpy when you sat across from him. “I’m fine.”

“Alright, don’t bite my head off because I care about you,” you said, standing and grabbing him a glass of water. “Need anything?”

“No. Thanks,” he said, starting to pick at his food. You ate in silence apart from Dean coughing or sneezing a few times. He shifted in his seat more than once and you knew he was going to ask about work again. “You okay, Y/N? You’re never this quiet during dinner.”

“I got partnered with Redge today. I wasn’t a fan,” you said, playing with a carrot to avoid seeing Dean’s face. “I got used to working with you and being around Redge all day like that again with you not there just…I don’t know. I told chief I want to work with someone different tomorrow.”

“He still thinks you and Redge just had a bad break up, huh?” asked Dean. “It’s not like you tried to tell them about what he used to do when no one was around or anything. Although I guess it would look pretty bad to have the chief arrest one of his own.”

“Like I said, I owe you for getting me out of that,” you said, Dean shaking his head. “Still not biting on that offer yet?”

“You’re happy and safe, that’s all I could ever want from you,” said Dean, putting his spoon down, about half of his bowl left.

“You want to go up to bed or watch some TV with me for a while?” you asked, Dean nodding towards the family room. You cleaned up and shook off his offers to help, coming into the living room to find him curled up on the couch, his blanket still all around him.

“How you holding up?” you asked, taking a spot at the end of the couch, throwing your feet up on the ottoman. You put a pillow down so Dean could rest his head against your leg comfortably in case he decided to go to sleep. You put a hand on his forehead and saw him curl into the touch.

“S’just a cold,” he said, turning on the TV. You ran your fingers through his hair, knowing on the rare occasion Dean was up for a cuddle, he liked to have it played with. But even in those moments where he let his walls down all the way, he didn’t talk about certain things. He barely spoke of when he was little. You knew his parents got divorced when he wasn’t very old and that he felt like it was his fault just from the way he talked but that’s who Dean was. A hard man that could be softer and sweeter than any you’d ever met.

“I think I’m ready,” you said, Dean humming before turning his head up to yours.

“Ready for what?” he asked, giving you a sleepy smile.

“It’s been almost four months since I left Redge. You got me back to normal again, feeling safe and strong and like I have a home here with my friend. But I’m ready to try something new if you get what I’m saying,” you said, Dean’s face turning sad.

“You want to move out? Did I do something wrong?” he asked. You shook your head and gave him a smile. “Was it because I told you I liked you back-”

“Dean, I like you too is what I’m trying to say. As in, I’m ready to try dating again…try dating you,” you said, ruffling his head. “We’ve been flirting for weeks. Want to actually give this a go?”

“Why would you ever want to date me?” he asked. God, he could be thick-headed sometimes.

“I like your sense of humor, your kindness, the way you help people. You got some comfy flannels too,” you said, Dean’s face softening. “I like you Dean.”

“Want to go on a date when I’m feeling better?” he asked. You nodded and bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek, Dean pushing you away. “I don’t want you to get sick too.”

“It’s just a cold I’ve been told,” you said, Dean laughing before pulling one of his arms free of his blanket and reaching over to hold yours. “I love when you’re all cuddly.”

“As your new boyfriend I’m going to start getting very cuddly,” he teased, letting out a big stretch and a yawn. “On second thought…”

“Bedtime?” you asked, helping him up. “You need anything come get me. I’ll be quiet and let you sleep in. There’s leftover stew in the fridge but I’ll come home at lunch and make you something to eat.”

“I’m a grown man, I can make myself lunch,” he said, standing up as you grabbed his blanket for him. “I should really go to work.”

“You’ve got a ton of sick time built up. Take the day off and recover,” you said, patting him on the back as you got him upstairs.

“Night,” he said once you got him tucked into bed.

“Night Dean. See you at lunch.”

“Dean, I’m home,” you said, tossing your keys on the front table, expecting to find him in front of the TV but instead he was nowhere in sight. “Dean, I got hot soup and fresh bread from that place with the pies.”

The house was quiet and you sat the food down on the table, hoping he was passed out in bed. When you got up there the sheets were messy but his blanket was still there which struck you as odd. He hadn’t gone anywhere without it for two days, almost childlike with the way he carried it around.

His phone was near the bed and it wasn’t until you’d wandered around the house twice before you called Sam.

“Is Dean with you?” you asked, hoping for some odd reason Sam decided to drop by town this week and hang out with his brother.

“Hey, Y/N. No, I haven’t heard from Dean since the beginning of the week. What’s up?” he asked.

“Nothing, he’s just not home. He’s been sick and I thought maybe you took him to the doctor since Baby’s still here. Maybe he got a ride from someone else,” you said, stuffing lunch in the fridge and heading back outside.

“He didn’t leave a note? That’s not like him,” said Sam, his voice concerned now. 

“Yeah. He probably got a neighbor or something to do it,” you said, Sam obviously hearing the worry in your own.

“Give me a call when you find him,” he said. “I’d appreciate it.”

“Will do Sammy,” you said, hanging up.

When the sun was starting to set though as you were leaving the station hours and hours later, you were starting to go out of your mind that no one had seen or heard from Dean since you checked on him before going to work. Your one thought was it had to have been Redge. Who else but your ex would want to screw over the guy that gave you the courage to leave in the first place?

So that’s when you started to think like him, think of the places Redge used to take the two of you, when things got too messy for home. It was another hour before you were parking your car and slipping out of it, a backpack on your shoulders and the satellite phone you’d stolen from Dean’s camping gear in your coat pocket.

It was dark and the terrain was a bit dangerous and it had decided to storm out, making it almost impossible to see. You went in the woods a short ways on the path before veering off, heading west and deciding you weren’t stopping until you were forced to. After an hour you saw the abandoned ranger’s station and broke inside, taking a short reprieve from the weather. You were gazing at a map when you nearly slipped, the floor wet from your boots but you spotted a patch of dried blood on the ground that made your stomach churn. You looked back at a map and saw that there were a pair of mines about five miles out.

“Please tell me I’m overreacting,” you said, heading back out, eventually coming across the boarded up mine, a plank missing that was big enough to get even Dean and Redge through. “Overreacting is all. Just overreacting.”

You aimed your flashlight inside and saw nothing at first glance, then a pair of ruts in the ground where someone had been dragged. You shuddered and followed it down the mine, eventually turning right and left, your flashlight falling on a bare foot and then up to the slouched over man it belonged to.

“Dean,” you said, rushing over, shoving against him as you spotted the dried blood on his stomach, the dark patch and belt around his leg. A flannel that wasn’t his was balled up against it, his own shirt held in place over his bare stomach by his crossed arms. He didn’t even look alive. “Dean,” you said shaking him again, his skin sweaty and icy cold. “Dean.”

You heard a faint grumble that was music to your ears as you shook him again, getting a louder one this time.

“Back for more?” he asked, fluttering open his eyes, watching them go wide at the sight of you. “What are you…”

“I’m going to get you out of here, okay? Then I’m going to kick Redge’s ass,” you said, figuring out what he needed first.

“Wasn’t him. Bad guy,” mumbled Dean with a sniffle, trying to go back to sleep.

“No, you got to stay awake babe,” you said, grabbing your water from your pack and lifting it to his lips, Dean sucking it down fast. You tossed a space blanket you had over him and he looked like he wanted to cry. You put a hand on his forehead and it was burning up. “Shit, you’re worse.”

“S’just a cold,” he said, getting some sense back. “You got to go. Go away before he comes back.”

“Redge can’t hurt you anymore, Dean, I’m going to-”

“Not Redge, someone else,” said Dean with a shudder. “You think I’d be fucking scared of that pile of crap?”

“Dean what’s…” you said, Dean nodding his head and shoving the bottle and blanket back in your bag. “Dean, no.”

“He’s coming back,” whispered Dean. “Go hide and then get out. Don’t come back.”

“Dean,” you said, his hands using most of his strength to give you a light shove. 

“Please, do what I said,” said Dean quietly, your bag shoved in your arms as you spotted a flashlight down a different tunnel. “Please.”

It hurt to leave him but the look on Dean’s face made you do as asked. You took off and hid around a different corner a ways down, listening as footsteps walked towards Dean and stopped.

“Screw you,” you heard Dean say before he started to mumble and then take a big choking gasp of air. “What’d you just give me?”

“Medicine. You’re welcome,” said the voice, definitely not Redge and not one you recognized. “You going to behave this time?”

“Give me back my gun and we’ll-” Dean said before it sounded like something smacked him in the face.

“I stitched you up and everything. Couldn’t have let my new toy bleed out,” said the person, a man, his voice deep and harsh.

“I am not your new toy,” said Dean, spitting blood out of his mouth from the sound of it and coughing up a storm before breathing raggedly.

“No, you’re right. You’re my old one, aren’t you Dean?” said the man, Dean hissing as you tried to make out what he was doing. “Took a long time to find you, boy. Too bad Daddy’s not around anymore to come and save you.”

“Well I’m flattered but why don’t-” said Dean before you heard his head hit against the rough wall, a tiny whimper of pain coming out of Dean.

“Just as mouthy as you were back then. You don’t even remember me,” said the man.

“No but my dad sure as hell told me what happened when I was old enough. You took me right off the front porch, psycho,” said Dean. “You’re the reason they-”

“Your mom had a nice right hook,” the man said, Dean sucking in a gasp as he grunted. “Too bad she ain’t around anymore either. Been waiting a long time for this.”

“For what you freak?” asked Dean weakly, his mouth mumbling again as he huffed.

“It’s duct tape you big baby,” he said, Dean grunting more now as you heard him struggle, breathing in hard. “God, you’re going to take some breaking in.”

Whatever was going on, you knew that you needed backup and that you’d beat yourself up about not bringing your gun with you later. You got out of there as quietly as you could and radio’d the station, keeping an eye on the entrance as you hid. But neither one of them ever came out.

You stayed there for another hour or so, the rest of the station showing up finally, the chief waving you over to talk when they came out of the mine empty handed.

“What-”

“The mine is empty. There’s multiple ways in there. You’re sure this guy knows Dean from when he was a kid? There’s no report of anything ever happening to him,” said the chief.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if they made the whole thing up just to screw with me some more,” said Redge.

“For fucks sake, Redge, I just want you to not be an abusive dick, not go to jail for shooting and kidnapping my boyfriend,” you said, puffing out your chest. “So they’re gone? Dean’s just gone and we have no idea where he is? He’s hurt and sick and-”

“How did you find him?” asked the chief. “This isn’t exactly my first thought for a search.”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe Redge would like to share how I know about secluded places where people can hurt other people?” you said, crossing your arms at him.

“If she thought…I took Dean she would have gone to the old ranger’s station,” said Redge, kicking his boot on the ground. “Probably saw a map and figured if he wasn’t there he had a shot at being in the mines.”

“You two need to work on whatever issues you’ve got,” said the chief, giving you a hard glare.

“Can we focus on Dean? They can’t have gone far right?” you asked.

“Let’s hope not.”

“Coffee?” asked Redge, poking his head into the conference room you were using as a base in your search for Dean. You shook your head, holding up your cup. “How’s it going today?”

“Redge, don’t pretend to play nice,” you said, looking back over your shoulder. “We both know you don’t give two shits about Dean.”

“He’s a cop. We got each other’s backs and all that...whatever,” he said with a shrug, trying to take a step in the room before catching your glare. “You too, I mean if you ever need a friend, shoulder to cry on you can always-”

“He’s only been missing two weeks and you already think I’m just going to come crawling into your arms? Get lost,” you said. “You aren’t even working this case.”

“Okay, I’ll just go do my job and Dean’s then,” he said, slapping the door frame hard on the way out. 

Another week went by of nothing and then another and another. After missing for two months and Sam coming to stay with you to help out, the case officially went cold.

Another month and Sam had to leave town a few days, tidy up some things at home before officially making the move there but he swore he’d be back as soon as he could.

The chief told you to take a few days off and give yourself a break. You took the excuse with Sam gone to get out of town yourself, drive and drive until you were exhausted and crashing at some cheap motel a few states over. You’d spent the day in a bar and your head in a bottle and tried to forget about how he had saved you way back when and you couldn’t do it back.

“Another one,” you heard a guy farther down the bar say, your head whipping up. You didn’t stare as you heard him flirt with the bartender. He sounded like the man from the mines but you were drunk and couldn’t be positive. Still though, you jotted down his license plate when he finally left and got a cab back to your room. When you’d sobered up enough in your motel to figure out who it belonged to, you had a spark of an idea. The guy only had a few drunken misdemeanors but he owned a large lot of acreage with plenty of buildings on it.

The next morning you got up early and you threw on your boots and backpack, and headed out on the property. You checked every tiny ass shed, every big ass garage, every out building, every rusted old car until it was night and you were ready to curl up on the ground and go to sleep.

You only had a few more buildings though so you kept going, ready to hit the bottle of bourbon you took from Dean’s house the second you were in your room. It looked like every other shed you’d been in, pieces of junk and metal lying around. This one had a door hatch to a cellar like most of the others and the second you threw it open, you saw more of the same. You went down the steps, barely keeping your eyes open as you swung the flashlight around and your eyes went wide.

There was light down here and a sink and a tiny mattress and a whole slew of other crap that would have drawn your attention if not for the scruffy, green eyed man who was looking at you like you weren’t real.

“Dean?” you asked, watching him shake his head at you, your gaze finally looking over his body as you took in a sharp breath. “Dean it’s okay,” you said, pulling a knife out of your bag and walking over, his body backing up against the wall so fast as he sat down, giving you a hard glare. “I’m just going to cut you loose.”

“You’re a trick,” he said, looking around and you carefully took a step forward. “Don’t touch me.”

“I won’t touch you,” you said, holding up your hands. “But you want that cuff off your ankle? I have to come closer.”

“Give me the knife,” he said. You bent over and slid it to him, watching him grab hold of the thing tethering him to the back half of the room and cutting it free. He stood up and you smiled.

“Dean are you-Dean!” you yelled at him when he backed you up against the wall, holding the knife out, way too close for comfort.

“You’re drugging me again, aren’t you? This probably isn’t even real. Y/N would never be here. She just wouldn’t. You’re just making me think what I want again, aren’t you?” asked Dean, his face fuming under that beard as you tried to think of a way to calm him down. “You’re just-”

“I brought your shirt. The one you gave me that first day I moved in,” you said, slowing taking your pack off and handing it to him. He was only in the tee and pair of flannels you’d last seen him in, the clothes ratty and practically falling apart now. “The red and-”

“Black one,” said Dean quietly, giving you a long stare before backing up and ripping open the bag, the flannel right on top.

“It really helps when you’re feeling crappy,” you said, his hand holding the knife dropping it completely. He pulled the flannel out and you saw a flicker of relief on his face.

“Real?” he asked running his hand over it, looking at you and the open door behind you.

“You want to come home? We’re kind of overdue for our date,” you said, Dean giving you a head nod. He carefully put the flannel on as you pulled a pair of his sneakers out, glad you’d brought them on the off chance he didn’t have any footwear. You picked up the knife and stuffed your bag closed, Dean standing quietly in the middle of the room with his head down. “Dean?”

“What?” he asked, your hand taking hold of his, feeling so much rougher than you remembered.

“Come on,” you said, giving him a little tug so he took a step. He was okay for a minute until you got close to the stairs and you saw how pale he’d gotten, how nervous he was to walk farther than he’d been allowed to go for so long. “Nice romantic starlit walk,” you said, taking a step up, going one at a time with him as he looked around when you were in the shed.

“I don’t remember this,” he said. “I don’t remember after the mines until I woke up here.”

“We got a little walk to get to my car,” you said, stopping when the two of you stood outside and he looked up, taking a deep breath.

“Okay,” he said, spinning around happily before it all faded away. “Wait what time is it?”

“About 10, why?” you asked, hearing a truck off in the distance.

“We have to go,” said Dean, letting you take the lead as you tried to run, Dean a bit slower than you’d seen him before. “He drops off food at night.”

“It’s only a couple miles to the car,” you said, slowing to a jog so he could keep up, his hand shaking the whole damn time until you had him shoved in the passenger seat and you were driving away, calling the local cops. Dean was quiet apart from saying he was hungry and even after you swung through a drive thru fast for him, he was quiet, looking around like he didn’t quite believe everything.

By the time you’d gotten to the local hospital, a few officers were there to let you know they’d got the guy but Dean seemed more interested in arguing with the doctors.

“If he doesn’t calm down, we’re going to have to restrain him,” said the doctor, as you heard Dean yelling in his room.

“Dean,” you said, brushing inside past a group of bodies as Dean glanced around the room angrily. “Dean, none of these people are going to hurt you.”

“Tell that to the one that stabbed me with a needle,” said Dean, rubbing at his arm where his IV was and giving a nurse a glare.

“Dean. Check?” you asked, hoping he’d remember what that meant. You’d never done it on him and you honestly weren’t sure how he’d come up with the little daily check in’s after you left Redge but they’d always made you feel better that cared like that. He glanced around for a second and back down at himself in a hospital gown, all the marks on him proving life had been awful the past few months.

“Yellow,” he said quietly, willing himself to calm down. “Just tell them to stop poking me and touching me and…” he said as he looked around at the room full of people, rubbing his arms like he was trying to hold himself. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay babe,” you said, holding his hand, nodding for the doctor to go back to whatever he was doing. Dean hissed a little when the doctor lifted up his arm.

“His shoulder is likely dislocated,” said the doctor to you. “Do you know if this is recent?”

“Dean?” you asked.

“Last week,” said Dean, ducking his head down. “I got in…trouble.”

“Let’s x-ray and see if we’ve got any nerve damage,” said the doctor to a nurse. 

“Dean, you tell the doctor and nurses what they need to know. I promise nobody’s going to hurt you. I’ll be right here when you get back, okay?” you said, Dean nodding his head as he relaxed around the people trying to treat him.

“Alright,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze before you were forced to go. “Don’t go too far.”

It took them two days before they released him, a whole slew of nutritional issues not to mention everything they warned you about. Apparently Dean was prone to sudden, potentially violent, outbursts now and your history of abuse didn’t make for a great combination.

It was fine the first night back at home with Sam helping out until you dropped the syrup on the floor after putting some on Dean’s plate.

“What are you a klutz!” shouted Dean, waving his hands everywhere. “You don’t drop things, got it?”

“Dean,” said Sam, watching his brother carefully. “That’s Y/N. She’s not going to hurt you for not making your room spotless.”

“I used to get hurt,” said Dean glaring down at you as you wiped up the little bit that had actually spilled on the floor.

“So did Y/N. You got to let us help you,” said Sam, guilt washing over Dean’s face as he realized he’d snapped.

“I’m as bad as Redge,” said Dean, running a hand over his face before bending down to help clean up, even if you were finished.

“Check?” you asked Dean, his head shaking. “Check?”

“Orange,” he said, glancing at his lap.

“Why are you orange, Dean?” you asked, running a hand over his head, Dean seeming to be most responsive to soft touches like that lately.

“I yelled at you for no reason and what happened with me is no excuse for treating you like that,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, helping Dean sit up again back in his chair. “I want you to try something. Whenever you feel like getting mad, think about if it’s because you’re mad or if because it’s something you used to get in trouble with him for. If you want to get mad because I toss dishes in the sink and forget to put them in the dishwasher, get mad. If you want to get mad because my covers are crooked when I make my bed, maybe you aren’t really mad but you’re tired of being scared so it’s coming out that way instead. So if it’s the later and you’re scared, you just come find me or Sam and give us both a big hug okay?” you said. “We’ll give it right back until you’re not scared anymore.”

“Are you serious?” asked Dean, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t need a…what are you doing.”

“I’m giving you a hug,” you said, bending down and wrapping your arms around him. “You’re scared so it’s hug time.”

“This is a monumentally stupid idea,” said Dean, looking to Sam for help.

“I don’t think so,” said Sam, standing up and walking over to your side of the table. He bent over and gave Dean one too, the older Winchester groaning as he was trapped between the two of you.

“You two are annoying,” said Dean, letting his head lean against yours.

“Check?” you asked, Dean giving you a tiny smile.

“Yellow green,” said Dean, watching neither you or Sam pull away. “I don’t get out of this until I’m green, huh.”

“Now you’re getting it,” you said, kissing the top of his head. After a few minutes of you and Sam straining your backs you heard Dean chuckle that he was green.

“I guess you have a point,” said Dean, Sam ruffling the top of his head as he returned to his seat.

“You gave me lots of hugs when I first started staying with you,” you said to Dean. “Made me feel safe. I get what’s going on in your head, trust me.”

“Some random psychopath kidnapped you and you have no idea why too?” asked Dean, a teasing smile on his face. “I just want to know what he had planned.”

“You want to talk about it?” asked Sam, Dean shaking his head. “You focus on getting back to your old self and let the police figure out the rest. Y/N’ll probably take a crack at it and she’ll figure it out in a few hours I bet.”

“Months of nothing and when I snuck off to get drunk I got lucky Sam,” you said, Dean flinching a little in his seat. “I’m just glad work will get back to normal.”

“How was Redge?” asked Dean, his face looking very much like the old Dean. “Don’t tell me he’s tried anything or I swear…”

“Redge is more indifferent of Y/N than anything at this point,” said Sam. “She may have thought he took you at first. She’s scary when she’s pissed off.”

“I don’t like you near him all day, not after what he did to you,” said Dean. “I thought he was on a different shift than us anyways, only came in because I was sick a while back.”

“They were down an officer and I made sure he knew he was on a short leash,” you said, shoving the last of your dinner in your mouth. “A very short leash.”

“Remember when he was our biggest problem?” asked Dean, running a hand over his torso, his fingers tracing over a spot through his shirt. “Getting shot sucks.”

“Y/N, do you want to clean up and I’ll help Dean with a shower?” asked Sam, Dean’s face a mixture of embarrassment and content. “Oh come on, like I’ve never seen you without pants on.”

“Shower sounds good,” said Dean, parts of him still filthy where he didn’t get a good scrubbing at the hospital. “Then I want to pass out in an adult sized bed again.”

Sam helped Dean up but let him walk on his own, the two of them up in Dean’s bathroom for awhile until you heard the water turn off and Sam shouted for you to come in. Dean was sitting on his bed in a tee and boxers, looking pretty tired but his eyes had a spark back in them.

“How’d we do?” asked Sam, ruffling a towel in Dean’s hair, getting a laugh out of his brother. “We can’t do anything about him being horrendous unfortunately.”

“Oh shut up,” said Dean, pushing Sam away with a smile. It got even bigger when he saw what you were holding, his blanket he’d been using before he was taken.

“Alright, get in,” you said, Dean shifting around so he was under the covers, Sam helping you spread the blanket out over top of him. “Do you need anything…and he fell asleep already.”

“Huh,” said Sam, Dean passed out the second his head hit the pillow. “He wasn’t joking about wanting a real bed again.”

“Should we stay?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “The doc said we shouldn’t coddle him.”

“He was cracking jokes in the shower,” said Sam. “You’re his girlfriend though so I’m sure you can-”

“Sam, we dated for all of four hours before this happened. We’ve never even been on a date,” you said. “You stay. I got to go check out a few things.”

“Y/N, it’s late, where-”

“I want to know what that guy was up to,” you said, walking out. “I’ll be downstairs. I promise I’ll come up in a couple of hours.”

“Y/N, he’s home and safe again. Take the night off,” said Sam, that slightly older brother tone coming out. “You need rest too.”

“You didn’t see him in that basement, Sam, or the mines. I want Dean to know this guy is never coming near him ever again,” you said. “I’ll log on quick and see what the prelim file says. Then I’ll be back, I promise.”

“Fine,” said Sam, taking a seat in a soft chair in the room and kicking his feet up on the bed, shutting his eyes.

“Thanks for everything,” you said, Sam keeping his eyes closed but giving you a smile.

“Family doesn’t have to thank each other,” said Sam, nestling down into his chair. “Don’t work too long.”

“I won’t,” you said, heading downstairs to the office, figuring it’d take you five minutes tops to read over the early report. You were logging in when you heard a car out front and saw the blue and red lights through the window. You growled and stormed to the door before they had a chance to ruin Dean’s sleep. Art and Charlie were giving you careful stares as you squinted at them on the front path. “What do you guys want?”

“Is Dean okay?” asked Art. You looked between them both and then saw another car come up.

“Don’t tell me the guy got loose,” you said, the officers looking at each other before at you. “How hard is it to-”

“Where’s Dean?” asked Art. “Now, Y/N.”

“In bed asleep. Recovering. Don’t you two dare go and wake him up with what’s probably going to be the most restful night’s sleep he’s had in months,” you said, two more officers, one of them Redge coming into view. “Well, let’s have a party in the front yard why don’t we? Not like-”

“Is he alone?” asked Charlie, taking a step forward. You scoffed and he shook his head. “Is he?”

“No, he’s with Sam and-Hey!” you said, watching all four of them rush inside. They only sounded like a freight train going up the stairs like that as you stormed after. “Dean’s fine alright? You can visit in the morning.”

You heard groaning from Dean’s room and wondered how pissed he’d be that Redge was in his house. The sheets were messy and thrown back as you looked around for the source of it but instead saw Sam holding his head in his hands.

“Looks like he got him,” said Charlie, moving with Redge out of the room and down the hall. “Art, new guy, stay with those two.”

“It’s Jimmy. Again,” said the black haired man that was helping Sam sit upright. You flicked on the light and saw the spot of blood on his head.

“Dean, he…ow,” said Sam. You walked over and rubbed on his back, ready to kill whoever it was that let Dean’s creepy stalker take him again.

“House is clear, set up a perimeter in the neighborhood. Art, help outside,” said Charlie as you glanced around.

“How did he even break in?” you asked, only the bathroom window open from the looks of it and there was no way up. “We’re up on the second floor.”

“Y/N,” said Jimmy with a cock of his head. “Dean’s kidnapper is still in custody.”

“Then who-”

“Dean just…” grunted Sam. “He sat up and clocked me way harder than he ever has in his life, grabbed a bag from the closet and sounded like he threw on his shoes and bolted out the window.”

“What…” you said, starting to move for the bathroom but Jimmy catching your arm. “Why would he do that?”

“There’s evidence that Dean wasn’t always in that basement,” said Jimmy.

“What does that mean exactly?” you asked, squinting at him. He sighed and looked away.

“It means that Dean very likely did what he had to in order to survive and at some point, it broke him,” said Jimmy.

“He’s scared and has PTSD, he’s not broken,” you said, shrugging out of his hold.

“The kidnapper had an alias, multiple aliases. Multiple plots of land and a couple other basements, just like that,” said Jimmy. You opened your mouth to argue but Jimmy shook his head. “Dean’s DNA is all over those places, those crime scenes. Three other men, all Dean’s age, some looking like they’ve been there a long time. All three were murdered. By Dean.”

“You’re being insane right now, I mean-”

“Dean kept a journal. We found it in the basement. They had to fight, they had go against each other to live and at a certain point, Dean started hurting them because he liked-”

“Stop. Talking,” you said. Sam looked ready to throw up but this guy didn’t know Dean and he didn’t know you. He was the rookie meant to replace him until Dean got on his feet, a quiet gig where he could probably do the mundane small town crap with his eyes closed. But this guy was a stranger and frankly he was the only cop in town you remotely trusted after everything with Redge. “Officer…”

“James Novak,” he said. “People call me Jimmy.”

“Jimmy, I used to be in an abusive relationship with Redge, you know, a cop? Dean, your ‘murderer’ saved me from it, gave me a home and a friend and a safe place to stay. He would not do those things to those other people. He’d try to save them. Dean is really smart. He would probably make the guy think he likes it to get more freedom and work on getting back at him. When I found him, he wanted to kill the guy. Dean doesn’t-”

“You’re talking in theory. You can’t know-”

“Dean has been alone with Sam and me for the past twelve hours. If he’s so bad, why didn’t he rip us to shreds then?” you asked. “I don’t know what he’s doing but he’s trying to protect us because that’s who he is.”

The officer didn’t say anything but he looked at you and Sam, knowing Dean would have had to give his own brother that hard of a hit in order to have enough time to get away.

“He didn’t do it. Give me a chance to prove it before you write him off too,” you said, Jimmy’s gaze flickering down and back up.

“You have no way to prove his innocence. Even if it was under duress, it still…” he trailed off, moving behind you as he stared at the wall. “Why would Dean have a teddy bear on his dresser?”

You spun around and saw the brown stuff bear on the other side of the room.

“I don’t know, I thought it was supposed to be a present or something,” you said, Jimmy picking it up and practically ripping it in half. “Hey that’s…what the fuck is that?”

“A hidden camera,” said Jimmy, holding up the lens and the wire that was tucked safely behind the dresser and probably into the wall, out of view. “Who put this here?”

“We both just assumed Dean was going to give it to Y/N on a date or something,” said Sam, glancing around.

“Has anyone else been in his house since Dean was taken?” asked Jimmy, glancing around.

“The internet guy, roof repair, the…” you trailed off, looking over at Sam.

“The mold guy,” said Sam, turning to Jimmy. “We were booted out of the house for three days.”

“The house is bugged?” you asked. You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “It would keep Dean in line, show him we weren’t safe here.”

“It certainly helps but it’s not proof enough that Dean-”

“Then help us get it, Jimmy,” you said. “Please.”

“Running makes him look guilty,” said Jimmy. “But he might have run if he thought you were safer without him.”

“How would we be safer?” you asked, Jimmy shaking his head.

“I don’t know. But something is going on around here and we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

“Sammy, I miss Dean,” you said, plopping down on the couch after work, throwing your legs over his lap as you stared at the ceiling. “He’s gone from person of interest to don’t be hesitant to use force on him.”

“I want him back too,” said Sam, letting out a sigh. It’d been almost a month since Dean took off and you weren’t all that surprised when his kidnapper was let loose after a failure to gather evidence on him. He played the part of dumb and innocent well, avoiding the alias thing when his lawyer explained that your guy never technically owned the land from those other lots. Sam called bullshit on it but there wasn’t enough there. You’d never technically seen the guy with Dean and your relationship with him left you more liability than help at this point. 

“You think Dean’s hiding from him? What if he got ahold of Dean again, no one would have any idea where to look, let alone we’re the only two people that care at this point,” you said. A knock at the open screen door made you sit upright as Jimmy came in with some takeout.

“Glad to know I’m valued so highly around here,” said Jimmy, taking off his shoes and heading for the kitchen.

“Three people care,” said Sam, hopping up as you sat down for dinner. “Anything at all today Jimmy?”

“Not on the Dean front,” he said, giving you a sad smile.

“I know you’re trying when you really don’t have to. We appreciate it Jimmy,” you said, watching him shrug. 

“I never even met Dean and I like him more than any of the other people we work with. I do have some other not so great news, chief mentioned after you left,” said Jimmy. You waited for him to continue as he pulled out a few boxes, sliding them over to you and Sam. 

“We’re waiting in suspense,” said Sam, Jimmy taking a deep breath.

“Y/N, you’re being…reassigned to patrol 8,” said Jimmy. “Chief is sticking you back-”

“Redge is my partner! Come on. I don’t want to drive around with him all day,” you said, Jimmy sighing. 

“I tried to tell chief that it wasn’t a good idea but everyone looks at you all shady now and Redge is the new golden boy since Dean’s been gone. He thinks Redge will figure out if you’re really up to something with Dean,” said Jimmy.

“Thanks for dinner, Jimmy,” you said, grabbing your box and your car keys, both guys grunting from the kitchen. “I want to be alone right now. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

They continued to grumble but let you be. You drove past the edge of town and parked in a field you used to go to when you wanted to get away from Redge. You sat on the hood of your car and pulled out your burger, taking a big bite and wondering if transferring would make you look guilty too.

You finished fast and were positive the guys were talking about you as much as they were Dean tonight. He’d vanished into thin air and you always wondered if he went back to where his kidnapper was from, if there was some reason he would go looking for something else.

You glanced at your phone and it was only seven. If you drove all night you could make it there by the morning and spend the weekend looking for him. Sam told you not to do that more than once though. Last thing you needed was you going missing too.

“Where are you, Dean?” you said quietly after finishing, laying back and closing your eyes.

About three seconds later something hit you hard in the hand and you whacked at whatever bug just stung you. Glancing down there weren’t any bug guts, just a blue paintball splatter. You spun your head around to the right, nothing but tall grass in that direction. Teenagers ran around out here a lot and you wouldn’t be surprised if you took a stray-

“Ow!” you said, waving your hand as it got hit in the same spot twice. “Knock it off!”

When it happened one more time though and your face was scrunched up in pain, you had to wonder what kid had a shot that accurate. You slid off your hood and walked to the right, the shooting seeming to stop now but you heard a rustling that made you jog after. You couldn’t keep up in the dense terrain but there was an obvious path to follow. By the time you got through, the sun was set and you were using your phone for light. There was a run down farm house in front of you, no lights on inside but the door was open.

“Call it in,” you muttered. It very well could have been the kidnapper but if it was Dean, they’d whisk him off to prison and not think twice. “I better not end up in some lifetime movie.”

You grabbed a sturdy looking branch and made your way inside slowly, trash everywhere but a few paint ball pellets leading a path for you down a hall and to a flight of stairs to a basement.

“Not a horror movie, not a horror movie,” you mumbled, taking as silent a step as possibly onto the first step. Halfway down they started to creak and you knew your cover was blown if you had one in the first place. It was dimly lit and you’d only scanned half the area before your makeshift weapon and phone were snatched away from behind, a shove pushing you forward against a wall. You spun around, ready to knee the person but stopped when you saw Dean staring back with a dark hoodie and jeans on.

“You need to stop trying to find me,” he said, tossing the stick to the side, turning off your phone and throwing it on the ground.

“Looks like I did and that was expensive you know,” you said, Dean’s face showing no amusement. “I know you didn’t-”

“You don’t know what I did,” said Dean. “What I can do when I get pushed far enough. This is your warning to stop looking for me and get on with your life.”

“Dean, I’m not scared of you,” you said. He stepped forward so your back was pressed up against the wall, his arms on either side of you as he leaned down.

“You should be,” he said, his face hard and dark.

“They’re forcing me to take Redge as my partner,” you said, Dean’s face holding strong but his eyes flickered for a few seconds, concern darting all over the place. “You can’t fool me, Winchester. You’re not the bad guy.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m not, Y/N,” he said, leaning back and moving his hood back to run his hand through his hair. “It’s the part I have to play from now on.”

“Why? Let Sam and me and Jimmy help,” you said, Dean raising an eyebrow. “New cop meant to come in to replace you. He doesn’t believe you did that stuff.”

“The guy is out there. He only wants me so I have to stay away from you and Sam so that he leaves you alone,” said Dean.

“He’s not a cop, he can’t-”

“This guy took me as a kid, Y/N. I was too little, way too little to even remember but he had me for a few days. I always thought it was random but I knew dad left something out of the story. I was a cop’s kid and it wasn’t hard to figure out dad screwed somebody over and they wanted to get back at him,” said Dean.

“Why’d he come back Dean? This seems personal but the stuff with your dad is done with, isn’t it?” you asked, Dean shaking his head.

“I’m not telling you,” said Dean. You crossed your arms and he crossed his. “I’m not telling you.”

“Dean, please, give me something,” you said. “I’m trying to prove you’re innocent and it was a set up but-”

“Y/N, just stop. It’ll never happen. I’ll always be on the run. There’s too many things to this. You have to get on with your life. You’ve spent the past half year looking for me and you got to move on,” he said. “Sam too. Tell him to go back home. Maybe you can go with him, get out of this town, find another nice guy. There’s more than one of us out there.”

“I want you,” you said, stepping forward to try and hug him, Dean stepping away. “We never even went on a date.”

“I guess I don’t really have to break up with you then,” said Dean, kicking it the ground. “We never even had a chance to try.”

“Why did you bring me here, to tell me to go away?” you asked. Dean nodded and shrugged.

“Basically. I wanted you to know I was okay and that-”

“You are not okay,” you said, looking him up and down. “You’re more scared than when I found you in that basement. You’re angry and cold and you think this would all be easier if I turned my back on you and let you live the rest of your life in some kind of on the run Hell or in prison. Guess what? I used to be that way until you told me I could never push you away from helping me. You made me furious because you wouldn’t understand that I was a lost cause. You know what? I wasn’t and neither are you. If you don’t tell me what’s going on right now I swear I’ll find a way to force you to tell the truth.”

“This is different, sweetheart,” said Dean, a sliver of warmth in his voice again. “It’s too late and you’re forgetting I made you a promise that’d I’d keep you safe. You have to do what I tell you and forget about me.”

“Make me,” you said. Dean sighed and cocked his head over to the side, a bottle and a rag on top of a shelf. “What is that?”

“I want you to leave now. Tell Sam the house is his if it’s not already in his name. Sell it and get out of this place,” said Dean.

“No. You’re not letting me help you and I can and…” you said, Dean grabbing the rag and tilting the bottle over it for a second. 

“You’ll wake up in your car in a few hours,” he said, glancing down. “I wish I could-”

Dean was strong enough to pull the rag away after you’d pressed it against his mouth but the fumes left him weak and it made the rest of the job easy until he was slumped over on the floor.

“What the fuck is going on with you, Dean?” you asked, looking at him like he’d passed out on the couch, so much softer when he wasn’t clenching his jaw at you. You grabbed your phone and thankfully it turned on even if it was cracked. Thirty minutes later Sam and Jimmy were there, throwing a blanket over an out cold Dean in the back of Jimmy’s car.

“Now what do we do?” asked Sam.

“I think we’re going to have to interrogate your brother.”

Dean was not all that happy to wake up and find his wrist cuffed to a chair at the small, out of the way house Jimmy was staying in. The three of you were in the kitchen trying to figure out how to keep Dean safe and get him to open up when he started yelling at the top of his lungs.

“Dean, calm down,” you said, flinging open the door to the back room he was in, Sam and Jimmy right behind you. “No one is-”

“Let me out, now,” he said, trying his best to dislocate his thumb to get it off but you’d made the cuffs too tight on purpose, Dean grunting when he saw it was no use. “I swear-”

“Check?” asked Sam, Dean blinking a few times. “Do you remember check, Dean?”

“I’ll check you into the wall if you don’t let me leave right now,” said Dean, fuming at the both of you, his gaze landing on Jimmy. “You must be the new guy, huh? Do me a favor and cut me loose.”

Jimmy stepped inside and grabbed a chair, placing it across from Dean and taking a seat.

“Oh come on, I-” Dean got out before Jimmy slapped a hand over Dean’s mouth and Dean’s free hand shot up to tug on his wrist. To your surprise, it didn’t move and Dean started to dig his fingers into Jimmy’s flesh hard.

“You’re being very stupid Dean,” said Jimmy. “Or would you remember me better if I told you my name was Cas?”

There was a slight pause on Dean’s part as his eyes looked over Jimmy, dropping his hand away the same time Jimmy moved his.

“You do remember me,” said Jimmy, giving Dean short smile.

“I always thought…” said Dean, smiling a little at him, giving you and Sam both a look. “This is...Cas.”

“So your name isn’t Jimmy Novak?” asked Sam, Jimmy, or better yet Cas, giving a shrug as you took a seat nearby.

“My cover name is. I’m a special agent,” said Cas, turning his attention towards Dean. “I met Dean a long time ago.”

“You were the older boy there,” said Dean quietly, still looking incredulously at the black haired man. “How are you not dead?”

“You really have a hard time remembering those couple of days huh? You were only a little squirt then I suppose,” said Cas, looking over at you and Sam. “My dad used to be your dad’s partner. Only difference was I was old enough to remember getting taken. Dean’s a little fuzzy on the details but I’d expect that.”

For some reason Dean got all kinds of relaxed and stopped trying to find a way out of his chair, perfectly content to sit there now. You went and grabbed a bandage for him to come back and saw the cuff was gone now, Dean avoiding your gaze. 

“Can I patch that up?” you asked, the red mark on his wrist bloody in a few spots. He nodded but wouldn’t look, a slight shake to his arm.

“Want to tell these guys what I know Dean? What you remembered when you were taken a few months ago?” asked Cas, Dean holding his hand in his lap when you finished. He was quiet and Cas sighed. “You were more of a fighter as a two year old, come on man.”

“You were an annoying six year old,” said Dean, glancing up at Cas. He found Sam’s gaze before yours, upset with himself some about trying to force you to stay away. “I don’t want Y/N to-”

“This girl has spent so many hours trying to find you, Dean. She gets to know the truth too,” said Cas. Dean looked ready to argue before the fight went out of him and he slumped into his chair.

“There was another boy, older than me. He had a weird name,” said Dean. “Redge.”

“Before you go feeling soft for him, Redge is this nutjob’s son. When he found out Dean of all people was the reason you broke it off with Redge-”

“I broke up with Redge and his psychopath dad does all that to Dean as revenge? Redge plants evidence to incriminate Dean? What are we in, a horror movie?” you asked, throwing up your hands.

“Pretty much,” said Cas with a shrug.

“I need a drink,” you said, heading over for the kitchen, finding a bottle of old bourbon in a cupboard, taking a long sip. 

“I knew she’d think this is her fault, I didn’t want to tell her for this exact reason,” said Dean, following Cas into the kitchen, Sam on his tail and stealing the bottle from you and putting it up high where you couldn’t reach.

“It explains how Dean’s DNA got all over crime scenes he never visited, why he was forced to keep a journal, it explains a lot really,” said Sam, sitting up on the counter, keeping an eye on Dean who looked on the verge of bolting. “Hey, I asked you check and you didn’t say anything.”

“What difference does it make how I’m feeling? I’m used to it by now,” said Dean, rolling his eyes. “None of this makes any difference. I’m still royally screwed and he’s still out there and it sounds like Redge is in on it. I can’t do anything so the reunion was great and everything but leave me alone for all our benefits.”

Dean stood up to head for the door but Cas caught him by the hood and shoved him into a seat at the kitchen table.

“Dude, back off or-”

“I’m working a case and until I have solved it and got my guy, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you, all of you will,” said Cas, letting Dean go, pushing on his shoulder when he went to stand. “I wouldn’t let this slide even if it was as simple as a little revenge case but it’s not and we both know it.”

“It’s not?” the three of you asked, Cas running a hand through his hair.

“Oh my god, did you never once look at the files our dads were working on around that time? Investigating a serial killer? Never?” asked Cas. Dean looked like a deer in the headlights, staring up at Cas towering over him. “You’re lucky he likes you better as a pet than a victim or you’d have been killed a long time ago.”

“Cas, go take a walk,” you said, Sam standing to go with him as he saw you were getting ready to make Cas a victim himself. When they were both outside Dean had dropped the hardness and had that sad look on his face again, the one when you drove him away from that basement and to the hospital. “Dean?”

“Cas is right. I am lucky,” said Dean. “Everybody else he kills but I pissed off his son so lucky me got to stick around.”

“You never told me what he did to you,” you said, walking to stand by his side, taking his hand in yours. “You only ever said you got in trouble.”

“I’ll tell you someday, I promise but right now can we not fight? I really don’t want to fight anymore,” he said, voicing barely cracking at the end. You sat next to him and wrapped him into a hug, Dean welcoming it as you wondered when the last time he had any sort of touch at all in his life. “Why didn’t you give up on me?”

“You don’t give up on people you care about,” you said, running a hand over his head. “I always wanted to repay you but I never thought it’d be like this.”

“I would have done with a pie,” said Dean, a tiny chuckle from him doing wonders for your own nerves. 

“We’ll figure out some place safe for you while Cas investigates. A place like this maybe where you won’t have to run or worry about getting caught by the cops or our guy,” you said.

“That sounds much better than that tent I’ve been staying in,” said Dean. “Anything sounds much better now.”

“You tried to not let me help. Over and over again,” you said, Dean resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“I know. I barely let you take care of me when I had that cold. This was too much to put on you,” said Dean. 

“Me showing up at your door with a duffel bag and begging you to let me crash with you for the night, promising I’d be gone in the morning felt like too much. It always felt like too much when you made me breakfast or brought home surprises for me or complimented me or did a thousand other things. One day I realized I’d never convince you of that. It was so much easier when I let it all go. You’ll let it all go too Dean. You’ll get there,” you said.

He shrugged and took a deep breath. He almost started to relax before he pulled his head up and looked back at the door. You wondered if he wanted Sam when he bolted up and ran for it.

“Dean! What the-” you got out before he stopped and looked at you, rushing back over and taking hold of your hand. 

“Don’t leave my side,” said Dean, pulling you along after him and out the door. He glanced around the small clearing before there was nothing but woods and the small dirt path that would eventually lead to the road.

“What’s-” you said before he threw a hand over your mouth, spinning the two of you around, spotting Jimmy’s car and rushing over. He flung open the door and shoved you in over to the passenger side before he started to rip open the dash with his bare hands.

You watched him wide eyed as he pulled on some wires, face smashed against the steering wheel until he got a spark and the engine came on, tugging you back into the driver’s side.

“Get out of here. Get out of town, just get as far away as you can and hide,” said Dean, panting as he pulled your seatbelt on.

“Dean, I don’t-”

“I remember and Cas...Cas was a nice kid. He took care of me. But I don’t remember him ever leaving with me,” said Dean, shaking his head. “Sometimes I swore I heard another set of boots wandering around in that shed too.”

“Dean, Cas has helped us, stood up for you, he’s-”

“Y/N,” you heard Cas say, both your and Dean’s head’s whipping to the front of the car where he was walking around. “Where are you going? We need to figure out a plan.”

“Stay the hell away from her,” said Dean, standing up and slamming your door shut. You weren’t in the car for more than a few more seconds before the lights flickered and went out.

“I always have problems with that freaking battery,” said Cas, rubbing a hand over his face. You climbed out and Dean stood in front of you, Cas cocking his head. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

“I know who you are you son of a-”

“I am trying to help you, Dean. Is he having some kind of meltdown?” asked Cas to you. Dean had been overreactive since the moment you saw him, not thinking clearly and assuming the worst scenario would happen every single time. Cas had been calm and collected apart from his small outburst at Dean.

“Where’s Sam?” you asked. Cas practically growled and you took another step behind Dean.

“I have no issue with Y/N,” said Cas. “Hell, she knows what a dick Redge can be first hand. She can go.”

“Where’s Sam, Cas?” asked Dean. Cas shrugged and held up his hands. 

“Like I said, Y/N can go and I highly advise you do and forget all about this before you get dragged in. My issue is only with the Winchesters,” said Cas.

“Go,” said Dean, pushing you backwards with one hand. “Now.”

You didn’t argue it and went off down the path, Dean glancing over his shoulder to give you the smallest of smiles, a quiet thank you. You went down the road until you were out of view, going a little further before ducking into the woods and carefully making your way back to the house, Cas now holding a gun in his hands as Dean sat on the hood of the car, his hands cuffed behind his back.

You figured you had a couple options. Sneak up on Cas and get his gun to save Dean. Stay hidden and hope Cas brought Dean to wherever Sam was and sneak them both out later. Or call for backup from your completely un-trustable department and hope whoever showed up didn’t make you another victim.

You didn’t have enough time to think of your fourth one before a hand shot out over your mouth and a cold muzzle pressed against the back of your neck.

“Don’t move.”

The hand around you made you backup slowly, going with them even if you knew it was likely to certain death. You walked with them for a while before they spun you around and led you forward, walking on and on until you were well out of shouting distance of Dean.

“Hands behind your back,” he said, your body only doing so when he pressed the gun harder against your skin. You quickly felt a pair of department issue zipties around your wrists, his hand pushing you down to the ground. You expected a bullet but the gun moved away and he walked in front of you, staring you down. “What the hell are you involved in, Y/N?”

“Redge, if you’re going to kill me just do it,” you said, his gun staying by his side a good sign you told yourself. “If you’re not going to do that then what-”

“Saving your ass. Cas plays games. Letting the girl go is one of his favorites. Two months from now when Dean hasn’t broken yet, he’ll pull you out of whatever hole your in and kill you in front of him, then threaten the same with Sam if he doesn’t get with the program. I don’t know where Cas put him. You’ll thank me when you’re still alive,” said Redge, fiddling around in his backpack, grabbing you by the arm and walking again. 

“Redge what the fuck are you-” you got out before he slapped a hand over your mouth, a piece of duct tape over it.

“Shut up until I can explain,” he said, dragging you along until you came to the edge of the road, Redge shoving you in the backseat of his car and driving away, back towards town. You kicked his seat and he growled, getting louder when you didn’t stop. Eventually he pulled into his garage of your old home, shutting the door and taking you out, pushing you down on the couch as he made sure all the blinds were shut. When he ripped the duct tape off fast you nearly bit his hand off but his hands in tight fists made you think twice.

“Explain before I kick your ass for kidnapping a cop,” you said, Redge’s eyes rolling hard. He sat down on the ottoman and leered at you, cocking his head. “What?”

“If you had just stayed with me, none of his would have happened. Sam and Dean would be fine. You’d be fine. It would be okay, you know that?” he asked.

“You used to hurt me and that wasn’t okay, Redge,” you spat out. “Stop talking out of your ass and pretend for two seconds you’re not a piece of crap and maybe I’ll not ruin your life for stopping me from saving my guys.”

“You can’t save them. It’s too late. Grab your stuff and go,” said Redge. “Cas’ll give up trying to catch you pretty fast. He knows you won’t say anything.”

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s only…oh, I don’t know a complete and total liar,” you said, your shoulders starting to ache. “Would you cut me loose? You’re not exactly screaming trustworthy right now.”

“You’re the one being investigated by internal affairs, Y/N. For all I know, you’re another one of dad’s star students,” said Redge. You cocked your head and Redge took a deep breath. “Six months of your record is missing when you were twenty. Why?”

“I was in school which you’d know if you ever listened to me. I did study abroad but you wouldn’t know anything about that considering you tuned out everything I said unless it was yes sir,” you said, Redge looking you over. “What do you mean students?”

“I’m a saint compared to dad. He really just…gets the urge to kill people and does it I guess. I never saw it but I mean, he slipped it into asking about how school was and all that,” said Redge. 

“You never told anyone anything? Never another adult or-”

“One day, when I was five, I came home and there were these two boys in the basement. Dad told me to play with them, take care of them, keep them under control. He said I’d get a big reward if I did. It wasn’t hard with the little boy, Dean, but the older one was bigger than me and he shoved me around so I shoved back. I thought we were playing like at recess or something. That’s all I did was play with them. After a couple days, the little boy went away but that other one…he didn’t. I got a new brother I was told,” said Redge.

“Cas,” you said, Redge nodding his head. “Oh, why didn’t you say something Redge?”

“Because I’m not a good guy. You know that,” said Redge, looking you up and down, all too aware that you were still restrained. “The more Cas gave in, the more I liked it until a couple months later and we were in a new town and Jimmy was my older brother at school. The longer he stayed with us, the more he got to be like dad until eventually Jimmy was the one going into the family business. Sometimes I wish dad hadn’t kept him. It sounds bad but Jimmy, Cas I guess…he’s ruthless and cunning. Dad was always happy with the quick and dirty but Jimmy likes the slow burn,” said Redge, his face dropping as he thought of something.

“Redge, work with me. It doesn’t sound like you guys are on the best terms,” you said, Redge laughing at you and crossing his arms. 

“He’s worse than me, worse than dad, but that don’t make me the golden boy,” said Redge. “Cas has his toys to play with. I only ever wanted you back and here you are. You can be safe here from him, safe from dad too. I’ll be better this time.”

“Are you asking me to stay or telling me I am,” you said, Redge’s gaze on the floor in front of him. His hesitancy made you braver and you tapped his leg with your foot. “Redge.”

He stood up and went to the kitchen, grabbing a knife as you swallowed hard. He put on a hand on your arm and spun you around, cutting through the zip tie and picking up the pieces, tossing them in the trash on the way back to the kitchen. He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and handed it to you, taking a seat back down.

“You were my first long term girlfriend. The first time I ever lived with someone else. That control was something I lived with for years, it’s what I thought love was and how to get respect and all that. As much as I want you back, I know I’m not good. Dean’s always been the guy for you and I took you because he was too shy at first, even if I knew he wanted you. You’re not mine but you got to stay away from Cas. He’s going to call my dad and they’re going to go to town on him, Y/N,” said Redge. “Sam too. You just got to move on.”

“I’m being investigated because of my relationship with Dean, right? They think I potentially knew he committed those crimes or set all this up?” you asked, Redge nodding his head. “Go with me to the station and vouch for me. Tell them all that. Tell them the truth and help me save them. Sam is a civilian, Dean is another cop and you’ve got some penance to serve, Redge,” you said.

“It’s my family. My literal psycho murdering family,” he said. “I go against them-”

“Your family is hurting my family. Family has your back and all that but yours is built on fear and pain, not love. That’s not a real family. Your family would hurt you for trying to stop them. Dean and Sam, I’m sure I’ll get an earful from them but I’ll get a crap ton of hugs too. Give me a shot, please,” you said, Redge sighing heavily.

“Y/N, odds are we’ll never find them,” said Redge, a tiny smile on your face. “But we could try.”

Two Months Later

Redge hadn’t checked in with the station in a few days and the looks you were starting to get made you nervous. Sam had vanished but Cas…Cas showed up for work the next day a few months back like nothing more had gone on that night than having an easy dinner and watching some TV. Redge stayed quiet when he saw Cas back, never saying a word to anyone about all he’d told you. You didn’t know who or what to believe anymore. The investigation on you was proving nothing you figured but you knew they believed you were the one who took Sam and was involved with all the rest.

“Hey,” said Cas, knocking on your desk as you looked into the old files on Redge’s dad. “You’re riding with me today.”

“Shocking,” you said, grabbing your winter coat, hoping wherever the boys were they weren’t freezing to death. You’d kept your distance from Cas since that night, occasionally trying to track him but Cas always one step ahead of you, no thanks to help from Redge you guessed.

“Coffee run?” Cas asked when you climbed in the passenger side of his cruiser, shaking your head. “This doesn’t have to be as bad as you make it out to be. I’ll buy.”

“A cup of coffee? Well I guess we can be besties forever now, huh,” you said, Cas pulling out of the lot for your four hour patrol around town. 

“I let you go. Someone in my line of work doesn’t really do that,” said Cas, looking over at you. “You’re a good cop. Once the investigation clears up, maybe you’ll think about moving on to a bigger town, work some bigger cases than the run of the mill crap we do all day.”

“Do you have a point at all? Otherwise you can shut it for the rest of today,” you said, crossing your arms, wishing you’d get a call to give you something else to think about.

“Playing nice with me makes life easier for them,” said Cas. “Perk up. You’re prettier when you smile.”

“Whatever you say boss.”

Three Days Later

You were at a motel room in a random town that only took cash. You used a rented car to take to “borrow” another one, promising yourself you’d return it to the owner before they got back from their vacation. You left your phone behind and your computer, no credit cards, anything Cas could use to figure out where you were. When it was almost two thirty in the morning, you slipped out of your room and walked down a few blocks, hood up as you scanned the alleys for the one you were looking for.

Right on the dot, you saw a man leaning against the brick wall of one, his head curling towards yours when he must have noticed your gazing. He gave a tiny nod you returned and he waved you down. 

“You’re less intimidating than I expected,” said the playful voice, standing up straight, his height rivaling Sam’s almost.

“Nick,” you said, pulling your hood down, the man doing the same. He was a bit older than Cas, around ten years maybe but even in the dim alley, you could see the familiarity. “I know where your baby brother is.”

“See, you kept saying that on the phone but Cas is dead. I haven’t seen him since he went to go play in the yard. It’s been over thirty years, kid. If you found his body, that’s great but I made my peace with what happened a long-”

“Look,” you said, shoving a hand into your pocket and pulling out the picture of Cas in uniform, Nick’s face going blank. “He’s alive.”

“He’s okay. Little guy became a cop,” said Nick, not exactly a smile on his face but as close as you were going to get for a harsh guy like him. “Why didn’t he…what…why did you find me, have us meet like this?”

“You’re a criminal and I’m so far in this thing I’ll work with bad guys to stop even worse ones,” you said. Nick handed the picture back before you shook your head that he could have it.

“You’re a cop,” he said. “Internal affairs, some law and order crap like that?” 

“Your brother took two people very important to me. I will explain everything I can to you but I’ll be upfront about this. You’re not getting the happy ending with your brother you want. It’s not going to happen,” you said, Nick looking over your head. 

“Inside,” he said, pushing open a back door to the bar you were outside of. “You look like you need a drink.”

Nick quietly sipped on his beer as you told him everything you knew. When you’d finished, you didn’t get any denial or shock or any of the other reactions you were expecting. Just a small chuckle that made you wonder if you’d only added one more crazy person in all this.

“To think I was the bad son,” said Nick. “Dad and his stupid pride, wouldn’t do something bad to save his own kid.”

“I read through the old files of Chuck’s, the ones in the storage shed in Toledo,” you said, Nick’s head popping up. “I’ve broken a few laws trying to get my boys back, I’m not a saint either. But your dad tried to get Cas back. It was one or the other and Dean was younger so-”

“So Cas got the shaft. Wow, way to go dad,” said Nick, standing and grabbing a bottle of some hard liquor, pouring it straight into his empty glass, enough to knock out a horse if he finished it all.

“He tried after that and that’s why he got killed. This guy Chuck and John Winchester were investigating is bad news. Ruthless and he made Cas just like him,” you said, Nick seeming unfazed.

“This is my problem how?” he asked, taking a long drag, scrunching his face up at the burn of it. “You’re the cop, that’s your job to fix crap like this.”

“You were supposed to watch him and you let your kid brother go play outside by himself when you were told to not let him out of your sight. How’s that for your problem?” you spat back, Nick’s face going cold, downright scary. 

“You sure you aren’t the bad one? You sure know how to rip open old wounds,” he said, taking another swallow.

“This was a waste of time,” you said, standing up, heading for the back door until Nick’s hand caught your arm. 

“You said this guy Redge, that you breaking up with him is what started all of this, right?” asked Nick. You felt his hand get loose and you moved it away, looking down at Nick in the booth. 

“It got Dean involved and it made Redge’s dad go after him again and it brought all of this up so yeah, it’s pretty much all my fault,” you said.

“If I’d watched Cas like I was supposed to, Cas wouldn’t have gone that route and maybe that Redge guy would have turned out different and maybe a lot of things would be different so if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” he said.

“You don’t know that,” you said.

“You don’t know that you and Redge had anything to do with Dean. They all knew each other before you came along. This could have been in the making long before you showed up,” said Nick.

“If you say you’re going to help, are you going to turn around the next day and pretend that didn’t happen? I’m running out of people to turn to, Nick,” you said.

“I think I should have a talk with my brother. On one condition,” he said, your head dropping.

“I can’t promise any clearing of your record or any of that. I’m on the outs. I can’t even promise you’ll live through this,” you said.

“One condition,” said Nick, standing up. “We’re going to need backup and I know the guys for the job.”

“Nick, this-”

“Kid, I wasn’t asking. You want to find Dean and Sam? Trust me.”

On Monday morning the chief called you into his office to tell you Cas was your new partner, Redge back at work as you figured he didn’t turn up anything concrete, not that he was ever really investigating you. You were stopped at the diner for lunch with Cas a few days later, silently eating together when Cas kicked you under the table.

“What?” you asked, mouth full of salad, Cas giving you a hard glare. “Don’t tell me the place is getting robbed,” you said, spinning in your seat to see nothing going on.

“What is that?” he asked, pointing outside at a man outside playing on his phone.

“A guy on his phone?” you asked, not sure what was going on with him. Cas studied your face and relaxed. “What?”

“Nothing. You’re not arguing with me as much lately. I was suspicious,” said Cas.

“Well you said it yourself. I’m free and alive. I need to start looking out for myself,” you said, Cas raising an eyebrow. “I’m smart enough to admit defeat. I need to move on, get out of this town and forget this all ever happened right? Let you have your…extra curricular activities.”

“You’re giving up just like that,” said Cas. You shrugged, playing around with your fork. 

“I never even went on a date with the guy. I’m loyal but I’m not a dumbass,” you said. “Maybe I’ll go somewhere warmer, where it doesn’t snow in the winter.”

“Oh you’re cruel. You ever want a date, give me a call,” said Cas with a wink. 

“I do have a slight favor to ask,” you said, Cas’ smile falling away. “A letter of recommendation would help with a transfer considering everything I went through. I’m not sure they’ll take me with that on my record if I don’t have someone to-”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem,” said Cas, easing up again. “I’ll make you sound good and all that.”

“Thanks,” you said, Cas going back to his sandwich until you were climbing in the cruiser, back on your patrol for the second half of your shift.

“You’re really giving up on them. They’ve been so adamant that you’d stay away and do what asked. I guess you’re finally getting with the program huh?” asked Cas.

“I have one other favor to ask,” you said, turning to Cas. “You and your family stay away from me, they don’t come after me. I don’t want to look over my shoulder the rest of my life.”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem,” said Cas. “You’ve kept your mouth shut and been good. You’ll keep it shut too. No one will bother you.”

“Alright then,” you said, holding out a hand, Cas shaking it with an amused look on his face. “I’ll start looking for new positions tonight.”

It was nearly three in the morning when you got a call on your burner phone from Nick.

“Did Gabe get it?” you asked.

“Oh, he got more than that alright,” said Nick. “Somebody wants to say hi.”

“Hey Y/N,” a tired Sam said on the other end. “You working with a bunch of convicts now?”

“Well I sit next to a serial killer at work. Thievery isn’t so bad compared to that,” you said, hearing a tiny laugh from Sam. He sounded in good spirits but you could only imagine how wrecked he was. “Are you okay?”

“Oh it’s like Christmas morning,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s not Christmas is it?”

“Not for a few more weeks,” you said, sitting up with a big smile on your face. “We got to go pick out a tree.”

“Yeah, we’ll get right on that,” said Sam. “You got Dean back yet?”

“No, we agreed getting at least one of you out was worth the risk,” you said, standing and heading over to your closet to get dressed.

“I haven’t seen him since I saw you last. I don’t know where-”

“It’s okay Sammy. Nick’s brothers are going to stay with you and make sure you get to a hospital and get better,” you said, pulling out some clothes and tossing them on fast. 

“I’m honestly okay. Cas never did anything so I assumed Dean’s been playing along. What are you going to do?” asked Sam. 

“I’m going to Cas’ house. He’s going to want a new way of keeping Dean in line,” you said.

“Y/N, you can’t-”

“Nick, you know where to meet me. Let’s go have a chat with your little brother.”

“Nick, you ready?” you asked, stepping out of the car parked around the bend, just out of view from Cas’ house. Nick looked down the dirt path, giving you a nod. “Want to give me a heads up of what you’re planning on saying?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out myself,” he said, taking a step forward. “You sure you want to come with me?”

“You need the backup,” you said, pulling out your gun. Nick just nodded and went around to the front door as you went to the back. He knocked like he was dropping off a pizza and you took a deep breath. You heard the front door open and slipped in the back, quietly coming through the hall as you saw Cas take a step back and another. Nick landed a punch square to his face and had him restrained fast as you had to fight the urge to rip his head off. “What happened to talking?”

“He kind of deserves it, don’t you think?” asked Nick as you rolled your eyes. Cas grunted as Nick rolled him up, shutting the door as you saw just how off guard he was. “Cas.”

“Nick?” asked Cas, looking his older brother up and down. “Wh-What...”

“What is wrong with you shortie?” asked Nick, Cas’ face softening at the nickname. “What is going on in that head of yours?”

“Whatever she told you, it’s a lie, it’s all-”

“Cut the crap,” said Nick, Cas dropping his head down to the floor. “You got taller.”

“So did you,” said Cas quietly, turning his attention to you, the softness falling away. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What you just put on my family?”

“Sorry but your dad and Redge aren’t exactly-”

“Not those psychos. Nick and Gabe and Michael. Do you know what you just dragged them into? What I’ve been keeping them safe from for years?” asked Cas, his eyes shooting daggers but flickering with fear for the first time too. “They’re going to go after them finally. After everything I put up with, it’s gone because of you.”

Nick scrunched up his face and raised an eyebrow, probably thinking Cas was nuts.

“Cas,” you said, holding your gun in your hands. “We found Sam. He didn’t exactly sound like someone who’s had a rough go of it lately.”

“Sam played the part he needed to. Dean’s been doing his part too I suppose. I may have exaggerated things a bit,” said Cas, glancing down.

“Exaggerated how?” you asked, your eyes going wide when you saw the chief come in through the front door.

“Stand down officer Y/L/N,” said the chief, your gaze going to Nick who looked like he would try to take him on if you asked. “Stand down.”

“Crowley, I don’t exactly trust-”

“Cas you’re authorized to disclose your case,” said Crowley, Cas breathing a sigh of relief.

“Not like she was only about two seconds away from shooting me, asshole,” said Cas, giving Crowley a hard look before softening his gaze towards you and Nick. “I’m very deep undercover. Very, very, very deep undercover.”

“It all makes perfect sense now!” you said, squinting at him, Crowley rolling his eyes. “You want to explain, get going.”

“The easy version? I got taken as a kid and raised by a not so nice guy and Redge. I figured out how to play along, gain their trust. By the time I was old enough, got more freedom, it was just Nick and my brothers left and there was always this unspoken threat in the air that I couldn’t go back to them. I stayed away and became a cop, try to figure out a way to bring him down and Redge. I was approached at the academy about undercover work. They knew who I really was and who my fake dad was and that I could go under and gather evidence against a guy they’d been tracking for twenty years but couldn’t prove a damn thing about,” said Cas. “I couldn’t hop on board that train fast enough.”

“Wait so you never…” you asked, Cas shaking his head. 

“Redge did. I was always going to be his fall guy if it ever came to it so I was told to keep my mouth shut. I’ve made it harder over the years but when you got with Redge and then you two stopped, those two wanted to rip Dean apart. I convinced them to go a different route, screw with you both in a less violent way. It worked and they started to get sloppy for the first time. They actually believed that I’d finally come around to their way of thinking. The evidence we have now though is huge and more than enough to put them both away,” said Cas.

“Awesome, then what’s with the continued charade?” asked Nick, cocking his head.

“We don’t know where Dean is,” said Crowley. You looked at Cas who shook his head.

“Redge called my dad after he found you in the woods,” said Cas, Nick giving him a glare. “Fake dad. Cut me a little slack, I’ve been dealing with this stuff since I was six.”

“Keep going,” you said, throwing Nick a glance to cool it.

“Fake dad showed up and took Dean, not too long after I had a chance to explain myself to him. I don’t know if Dean every truly believed me but I told him I’d keep you and Sam safe until I could get him too,” said Cas. “We just need to find him.”

“Would Redge know?” you asked, looking at the chief who was shaking his head. “I’ll go be bait if I have to. We’re getting Dean back if it’s the last thing I ever do.”

“The guy’s been around the Montana area, sticking to a fifty mile area. Dean’s likely somewhere in there,” said Crowley. “It’s too big of a search area though.”

“When Redge took those few days off earlier in the week, where’d he go?” you asked.

“Montana,” said Crowley. “You think he went to go pay Dean a visit?”

“Check his phone records and we’ll find out.”

The property you were searching was huge and the local police department was even smaller than your own, just four of you out there trying to search 100 acres while you knew your guy was the next town over.

“Y/L/N, sun’s going down and snow’s heading in. We need to call it a night,” said another officer over the radio.

“I’ve got a flashlight and gloves. I’m good,” you said, flicking your light on and continuing your search. 

“One more hour, then we need to head in,” said the officer. You clicked off your radio and continued your search, finding a big farmhouse that was a nice break from the cold wind on your face, your cheeks and nose hurting from the icy air. You kicked around the straw on the floor, finding only solid dirt beneath it, taking a short breather behind a bale of hay. It was warmer there and you took a deep breath, glancing around to see a pipe sweating nearby. You hopped up, nothing at all seeming to require heat in the open barn unless of course there was someone living under it. You started kicking the straw again, spending most of your hour picking through every inch of the space. 

You yelled when you found nothing, kicking at a bale of hay. You huffed and figure you’d start looking around outside when you spun back around.

“Wait,” you said to yourself, looking around the whole barn, noticing there was only the one bale in the whole place. You bent down and shoved with your shoulder, digging into the ground to get it to budge a little before it slid away. The small cellar door made you smile as you flung it open and hopped down, shooting at a locked door and opening it to find a tiny room warm.

The man on the cot rolled over and wiped at his eyes, yawning as he did so. He blinked the green orbs awake, sitting up fast when he saw you.

“We got to stop meeting like this,” you said, Dean leaning back against the wall in relief. “You’re not going to go all Rambo on me again, are you?”

“You look really cute with a pink nose,” said Dean, waving you over. You bent down to try and cut through his tether again but this one was made of steel cable and you didn’t exactly bring bolt cutters with you. “Try my foot.”

“I’m not cutting your foot off,” you said, Dean rolling his eyes. He put his foot up on the cot and pulled up his pant leg to show the metal cuff on it.

“I meant try picking the lock,” said Dean. “Unless you found the keys.”

“Yeah, right outside the door, didn’t you know?” you joked, the sound of the cellar door slamming shut making your smile fall.

“Tell me that was the wind,” said Dean. You took off back the way you came, going through the door and up the few steps before you pushed on the door. It didn’t budge much and you knew it wasn’t that heavy. You pushed again and again, dropping down and hoping when Dean was free he might have better luck. 

“I think it’s just stuck,” you said.

“I don’t think we’re that lucky,” said Dean. “Do you have anything to eat in your bag?”

“Yeah,” you said, slipping it off and digging through to find a few protein bars, Dean barely getting the wrapper off before devouring one. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” he said, halfway through another before he forced himself to stop. “We should save these.”

“It was just the wind Dean. A big storm is coming through,” you said, riffling around in your bag for something to try and get him loose. You took off your hat and shoved it on his head, throwing your scarf on him too. 

“How cold out is it exactly? This is Kansas not-”

“We’re not in Kansas anymore,” you said, Dean giving you a bitch face. “Well we’re not, Todo.”

“Awesome,” said Dean as you ran a hand over your head, finding a bobby pin in there. You pulled it out and twisted it, shoving it in the lock and a few moments later, watching it release Dean’s leg. 

He sighed when it fell off and he removed the rag he’d shoved there to cushion it, stretching it out as you twisted your bobby pin back in place.

“Let’s work on that door,” said Dean. He stood up with your help but he seemed healthy for the most part and definitely happier than when you’d rescued him the first time. You both had to shove hard but the door flung open eventually, a big gust of wind blowing through the open space that had Dean ducking back down. You gave him your bag with some boots and gloves, Dean throwing his hood up but still cold in his thin hoodie and a pair of jeans.

“Let’s get you home Dean.”

“Alright,” you said, throwing a blanket over Sam on the couch the next day, Dean already bundled up in his own as they both gave you shy smiles. “You’re both fed, Dean got cleared by the hospital, you’re in your warmest pajamas and tucked in. What else do you guys need?”

“You to sit down and take a break, sweetheart,” said Dean, patting the spot between him and Sam. You gladly sat, feeling them share their blankets with you as a holiday movie played quietly on TV in the background.

“Longest year ever,” you said, both of them laughing a little. The doorbell rang and you hopped up, knowing the department wanted to give you all a proper apology but that it could wait for the morning.

“Hi,” said Cas when you opened it, holding a box under his arm, looking down. “Can I come in?”

“Can you look at me?” you asked, Cas slow to lift his head. “You ever hear of a little thing the Winchesters have called ‘Check’?”

He shook his head and you smiled.

“You will,” you said, opening the door for him, his face red from the cold. “Guys, you mind if you have a quick visitor?”

“Cas, our guardian angel,” joked Dean, Cas looking away nervously. 

“Dude, relax. You’ve risked a lot to keep us safe,” said Sam. “We’re good with you.”

“Y/N is in need of an apology,” said Dean, not too happy with the way he spoke to you, even if it was to keep up appearances with Redge. “Later though. What’d you bring us?”

“It’s from my brothers and me,” said Cas, putting the box down between them. “For helping bring us together again.”

Sam and Dean shrugged and opened the box up, both of them reaching inside and holding up a leather jacket.

“I guess your dad gave it to our’s once and it got tucked away in storage. It has sentimental value Nick said. John gave it to him as a way of saying our families always have each other’s backs or something like that,” said Cas, rubbing the back of his head. 

“You guys want to hang out this weekend?” asked Dean, Sam giving Cas a smile. “Our dad’s were best friends. I think it’s about time the kids were too.”

“Is that okay, Y/N?” asked Cas, the boys looking back over the couch at you. “You’re the one that’s seen everyone go all…”

“I think a big family dinner would be nice,” you said.

A few days later you were sitting on the couch with Dean slouching into your side, talking to Nick and Michael about which Zeppelin album was better, Sam and Gabe and Cas trying to figure out who had the worst pick up line. You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until Dean was carrying you upstairs, the guys telling you goodnight as they threw on their coats.

“Didn’t mean to ruin the party,” you said, Dean pausing outside your room before going down to his and putting you on the mattress there.

“It’s your turn to get some overdue rest, Y/N,” said Dean, shutting the door and kicking off his pants, climbing into bed beside you. 

“You don’t have to go to bed if you don’t want,” you said, Dean chuckling to himself. 

“We’ll see the guys tomorrow. It’s getting late anyways,” said Dean, pulling you in close. “You’re so warm. I’ve wanted to do this forever.”

“Me too,” you said. “You know Nick and Gabe and Michael…they’ve got records,” you said. 

“Used to have records. They’ve been expunged thanks to helping catch two serial killers. With Cas back and a family of cops around, I’m pretty sure they’ll get on the straight and narrow soon,” said Dean. “Wouldn’t want to have to arrest our new friends.”

“How are you feeling? After everything I mean. You’ve spent only a handful of nights in this bed over the past ten months,” you said. Dean hummed and you rolled on your side to face him, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not so bad this time.”

“I kind of distracted myself through most of it,” said Dean. “I don’t think anyone’s ever had as much time as me to come up with the perfect first date.”

“I’d rather just stay home with you on the couch and never let you out of my sight if that’s okay with you,” you said, giving him a tired smile.

“You came up Netflix and a pizza too?” he teased, shifting his head closer.

“Check?” you asked, Dean closing his eyes as he tilted his head and gave you a short kiss.

“Green sweetheart,” said Dean, fluttering his eyes open when he moved back. “How about you?”

“I think I’m okay again too,” you said, snuggling into his chest. “This is the weirdest relationship I’ve ever been in.”

“Considering your last boyfriend was a serial killer, I’m not sure how to take that,” he said, chuckle as you gave him a pout. “I really do have to ask though…why’d you never stop trying to save me?”

“You’re my best friend. Maybe we haven’t gotten into the couple stuff yet but you’re my best friend and I love you and you owe me at least two back massages for everything I’ve done,” you said, Dean giving you a big laugh you felt in your chest before he was kissing you again.

“That can be arranged,” he said, closing his eyes. “Thank you for everything sweetheart.”

“Goodnight Dean.”

"Morning,” you said, turning to curl into Dean, your eyes blinking open when you saw him gone. You hopped out of bed and found him staring at the back door in the kitchen, the sun just coming up. “You okay?” you asked, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching for your hand to hold in his. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

“You’re good,” you said, bumping into his arm. “We can go outside if you want.”

“It’s cold out,” he said.

“You have winter clothes,” you said, Dean nodding to himself like he’d forgotten that. “Do you have anything you want to do today?”

Dean shrugged, just looking outside at the snow covered yard. You bumped him again and he looked down, catching your smile.

“When Sam gets up we’ll head into town and grab breakfast. I got a surprise for you,” you said, Dean tilting his head. “It’s a good surprise.”

It was nearly dinner time by the time you three got back, Dean giving Baby a pat and smile at getting to driver her again. 

“I can’t believe you convinced us to go sledding,” said Sam, sipping on his leftover hot chocolate. “In Kansas too. How’d you find that place?”

“A super secret place called google,” you said, Sam grabbing a snowball from the front yard and tossing it at you as he went inside to warm up. Dean was smiling as he stood by Baby, his cheeks red from spending most of the day outside. “You have fun today?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, wrapping you up in his arms and holding on tight. “I needed that.”

“I know. Want to go watch a Christmas movie and warm up?” you asked.

“Die Hard?” he asked. You rolled your eyes but shook your head. “What do you want to do for dinner?”

“Speak of the devil,” you said, spotting Cas pull up in his car, his brothers popping out with a few bags. “The boys brought barbecue.”

“Ribs, brisket, pulled pork, chicken, corn bread, mashed potatoes and a whole bunch of other artery clogging goodies...everything a recovering boy needs,” said Gabe, patting Dean on the back as they got the food inside before the cold got to it.

“We’ll have a quiet day tomorrow if you want. You just looked like you needed some fun today,” you said.

“I did. I still do but with you watching my back I’m going to turn out just fine,” he said, leaning down to give you a kiss. “You know I always had the biggest crush on you, from the second we met actually.”

“I thought you were cute in your little uniform and jeans. I wished you’d been my partner from the start,” you said.

“I’m your partner now,” he said, giving you another fast kiss. “In more than one area of your life.”

“You’re much cuddlier than I remember,” you said. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Well see this cute girl told me if I got scared I should get a hug and she’d make me feel better. She’s pretty smart,” said Dean, still holding on tight.

“You remember that?” you asked, Dean humming. “Do you want to go get some warm food in you?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, not moving an inch. He waited a few more seconds, looking up as the sun was setting and fresh snow was coming down. “Alright, let’s go have family dinner.”

“I think we should do it once a week, get everyone together,” you said, Dean smiling wide. “You like the sound of that?”

“Having a big family of full of misfit cops and lawyers and thieves sounds perfect, sweetheart.”

_______

[victoria-daydreams]

The Hare and The Tower

Chapter Nine: Most Wondrous News

AN: Happy New Year everyone! This chapter has been sitting in my drafts for a minute because I had a vision of where I wanted this to go and I got ahead of myself and wrote this but I couldn't post it yet.

Trigger Warnings: age gap, mentions of death

Word Count: 1.4k

Taglist: @dogmatic255 @sidechrisporn @amethystwonders11 @ladysindar @sweetwanderlust05 @newandykes @helloimlateforeverything @loveofvernonslife @stitchattacks @dariequeen @kishie8 @girlonfireice @snowymarvel1205

If you want to be added to the taglist just leave a comment.

Summary: In the early hours of the morning, Jesmyn considers her future and asks Otto to keep a grim promise.

Chapter Ten: Leave it to The Gods

116 AC, Westeros

With tense shoulders, Jesmyn stood in front of the hearth, staring blankly into the flames ensnared by its hellish dance. The fire illuminated her face in a warm, orange glow as the soft crackling of burning wood floated into her ears. Closing her eyes, Jesmyn hoped the noise would slowly quiet the turmoil inside her head from the nightmare she had awaken from. The dark dream vividly played through her mind on repeat. Otto was still asleep in their bed, unaware she had managed to ease out of his grasp. He always protectively kept a hand on the swell of her belly when they slept.

"Wife?"

His voice pulled Jesmyn from her thoughts and she looked over her shoulder.

"Come back to bed," he said, sleep heavy in his voice. "You’ll catch a cold standing on the floor with bare feet," Otto added, his voice was gentle as he sat up in bed.

"Sleep escapes me, Husband," she informed, her tone matching his. “I cannot,” she muttered, returning her gaze back to the hearth.

Silence fell over the room. Until, she heard rustling, the sound of the thick covers from their bed being tossed aside as he got up. Wordlessly, a broad chest pressed itself against her back. The warmth of her husband’s body seeped through into her bones. Curling his arm around her waist, Jesmyn leaned back against him.

"You're cold," he murmured, moving her nightgown and robe aside to plant a warm kiss on the skin of her shoulder.

"I'm fine," Jesmyn said dismissively, and tried futilely to suppress a full body shiver that coursed through her.

"How long have you been out of bed?” he asked, tucking back her hair.

She exhaled heavily, "Awhile," Jesmyn answered, meeting his eyes. They were a hue darker from the dimness of their chambers. "I…I lost track of time," she admitted, grabbing his hand and placing it on top of her stomach.

He hummed, "Tell me what troubles your mind, my dear wife," Otto began. "So I can slay it, and bring you back to bed," he said, his thumb tracing the line of her spine.

"You’ve taken it upon yourself to become a slayer of nightmares then?" Jesmyn quipped, her eyebrows raising slightly.

"I will become whatever you need me to be, Jesmyn," Otto said softly into her ear. "A nightmare was it?" he repeated. "What happened in this nightmare?" he questioned, drawing circles on her swollen belly.

She paused briefly, "I died in childbirth," Jesmyn revealed quietly, and Otto’s body went rigid against hers.

A deafening silence swallowed the room.

"A terrifying dream," he said, finally breaking the tension. "But that’s all it was, a bad dream," he assured, his hold tightening.

Jesmyn slowly spun around, "It’s been a recurring dream, Otto," she pressed, watching his expression change. "Different ways, each dream," she continued.

Now being eight months into her pregnancy, the due date of her labors drew near and nearer. Jesmyn wanted nothing more than to feel excitement about bringing a child into the world, but as the days progressed she began to have terrifying nightmares. She found herself growing increasingly nervous and scared of having complications while on the birthing bed.

Exhaling, Otto pressed a kiss on top of her head, “Come, let’s get you off your feet,” he said, taking her hand.

He guided her to one of the nearby chairs in front of the hearth, and Jesmyn slowly lowered herself into the cushioned seat.

Otto kneeled in front of her, “We have the best maesters here at The Red Keep,” he assured, holding both of her hands. “You are in excellent hands, Jesmyn,” he said, looking up at her.

“Didn’t do much for the late Queen Aemma, did it?” she retorted bitterly.

“What happened with Queen Aemma was a tragedy,” he conceded. “But that doesn’t mean it will happen to you,” Otto said, squeezing her hands.

The comforting gesture only made her frown.

“Do you remember in the sept, when I told you about my fears of bearing a child and the labor is difficult?” Jesmyn asked.

“I do,” Otto answered, with a nod. “You feared if there was a decision to be made of your life or the baby’s, one of your then suitor’s would choose the baby’s,” he recalled.

“My aunt died that way,” Jesmyn said, her voice close to a whisper and Otto flinched. “Her death is what triggered my fear of the birthing bed,” she continued, swallowing thickly. “A terrible scene it was, the wails my father let out are seared into my head,” she continued shakily. “And the sheets…oh gods, Otto, I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so drenched in red. And it was all for naught, mother and daughter dead,” she finished, her voice nearly breathless from her rising anxiety.

“Jesmyn, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,”

She shifted uncomfortably in the seat, “Otto,” she called, slipping her hand away from his to cup his cheek.

“Yes, my love,” he answered, leaning into her touch.

“I am going to ask something of you,” she stated, her thumb running along his beard.

“Anything,” Otto responded quickly, kissing her palm.

“If there ever comes a time when you are tragically put in such a position,” she began. “Promise me, you’ll leave it to the gods,” she said, and Otto’s head snapped up.

“You’re asking me to let you die? Jesmyn, I can’t—”

“Promise me,” she repeated, her voice cracking, “Promise me, you won’t cut me open and gut me like a fish,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Otto stared at her, his eyes wide and completely lost for words. He went to rise to his feet, but Jesmyn’s fingers tightening around his and the silent pleading on her face made him stop.

He sighed heavily, “The moment your father removed your bridal cloak from you, and I placed the Hightower cloak upon your shoulders,” Otto began, his voice quivering. “Not only I did I pledge my love for you that day, I also pledged to protect you,”

She placed her hand on his face, “You are protecting me, Otto—” Jesmyn reasoned, her fingers splayed wide across his cheeks.

“I’m killing you!” he said, his voice raising slightly. “I’m killing you,” he repeated, this time whispering and pressing his forehead against her stomach.

Jesmyn’s gut wrenched as if someone had put a knife through her ribs and twisted it.

“Otto,” she called, using her thumb to softly caress his jawline. He didn’t respond, only letting out a ragged breath. “Otto, look at me,” she demanded gently.

Many seconds would pass before Otto would raise his head. His eyes glistening in the light of the fire, and Jesmyn could hardly recognize the usually proud man who was now reduced into a grief stricken one.

“Don’t make me do this, I can’t do it!” he begged brokenly.

“You would deny me my dying wish?” she asked, another tear falling from her eye.

Otto put his hand on top of her hand which cupped his cheek and firmly planted another kiss on her palm.

"It could save your life, Jesmyn," he said desperately, grabbing a hold of both her hands again. "You speak about death, but it could save you," he reasoned, bringing her knuckles to his lips.

"Or cause me unimaginable pain and suffering," she choked out. "I do not wish for your last memory of me to be of agonizing screams. It will haunt you for the rest of your days," she warned, shaking her head.

Otto dropped his head in defeat, knowing he couldn't change her mind about this. Pulling her hand up to his lips, he placed a soft kiss upon the delicate skin of her wrist.

“If this is what you want, then I will…oblige your wish,” Otto agreed, his expression solemn.

“Thank you Husband,” she whispered.

“Let’s get you back in bed,”

Grabbing Jesmyn’s hands, Otto carefully lifted her up from the chair and guided her back to their bed. Helping her onto the mattress, he adjusted her pillows allowing Jesmyn to lean back against the headboard.

“Otto,” she called, watching him settle next to her. “I want you to know, whatever happens, I love you,” Jesmyn said gently, fixing herself on her side.

Reaching out, he cradled her head and let his thumb run down her cheek.

"I love you too," he told her. “No matter what happens,” he echoed, before kissing her tenderly. His lips featherlight against hers. "Now, rest my love,” he demanded softly, his arm going around her waist.

Jesmyn’s eyes slid shut, and with her mind at ease down along Otto's warm breath fanning on the back of her neck, sleep came easy.

Chapter Eleven: Bundles of Joy

[angelsdevils]

Kisaki Tetta

WARNING: pseudo-incest/step-incest, slight manipulation A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for awhile. If you don't like it, don't read it. Don't come for me. Also, I didn't tag ANYONE in this post because I know this topic can be triggering. If you still wanna be tagged in posts like these just let me know. <3 All characters are aged up to adults.

Fuck. Kisaki knew it was wrong, having a crush on his step-sister. Everything about the situation was wrong, but how could he not develop some form of feelings when everyone in his life rejected him? Even his own mother? Speaking of her, his mother had married your father and gave you two brief introductions. 

You were the same age as Kisaki and eventually started going to the same school. You weren’t that annoying, clingy sibling which he was thankful for. He wanted to keep you out of everything that he did. So him keeping his mother’s last name, and you, your father’s, he didn’t have to worry about people piecing two and two together. 

When both of your parents were out, you often cooked for him and then did your homework. You never showed him any type of anger or disgust. Often flashing him that pretty smile when he came in or left. You treated him like a normal sibling, which only made his twisted mind more fucked up. He knew you saw him as nothing more than a brother, but he wanted to be so much more. 

So, he started isolating himself from the gang activity, Hanma. From everyone, and found himself indulging in your favorite activities with you in the house. From watching (favorite series) to playing (favorite game). Sometimes you both would end up reading a book, cuddling against each other. He made no effort to hide his feelings from you, and he didn’t care for either of your parents since neither one of them was there. 

It’s been seven months since you have become his sister, and his feelings were running deeper for you. His hands started to linger, the kisses on the forehead were now placed on your cheek, near your lips. Kisaki couldn’t help the small smile when you blushed when he kissed you. You often turned your head so he wouldn’t get close to your lips. It often left him to tease you about it, but you knew he meant no harm. 

That was until he had you pinned to the counter as you were washing dishes. He had placed several kisses on your neck, and you tried to move but you couldn’t.

“Tetta, stop that. That’s weird,” you complained. You tried to move, but he grabbed your waist and turned you around. 

“What’s weird about it? I love you,” he said. 

You met his eyes and he was staring at you with something in his eyes. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, so it caused you to attempt to create distance between the two of you. 

“Yeah, I love you too. As siblings, nothing more.”

“I don’t love you as a sibling, I can’t hide it anymore. I love you so much,” he said. 

He placed his forehead against your shoulder hugging you tightly. You slowly wrapped your arms around him to hug him back. 

His confession shocked you, but you weren’t surprised at this point. He had opened up about everything in his life. You honestly felt bad for him, but you never thought he would fall for you.

“We are siblings, our parents would disown us. Society will shun us, this is so wrong, taboo even.” 

“Don’t care, and you shouldn’t either. We aren’t blooded siblings, so there is nothing wrong with this.”

He pushed some hair out of your face before he placed his lips on top of yours. You blushed and tried to shove him away but Kisaki captured your hands in his. He pulled you extremely close and parted your lips. He leaned down and started to nibble on your neck before he started to beg.

“Please don’t reject me, you are the only person that accepts me. Love me. I am sorry I can’t distinguish the difference between sibling love and romantic love. I just want you, don’t reject me too.” 

You knew what he was doing, he was trying to gaslight you, manipulate you, and make you feel guilty. Though you knew it was wrong, and you wanted to tell him it wasn’t your problem, you still couldn’t fight the fact that you knew he struggled with love. So instead of words of spite and hatred, you only said one word that doomed you.

“Okay.” 

That was enough for Kisaki to look at you and slam his lips against yours. You mentally cursed yourself, but you stopped fighting him. Hopefully, he gets bored of you soon and just stops. 

But deep down you knew he wouldn’t. He was obsessive, controlling, and good at manipulating. You were his now that you gave him the okay. 

He sighed softly as he started to suck on your neck, making sure to mark it. You started to shake in his hold, as his hands slipped underneath your pants.

“You are shaking, do you not want to go further?” He asked.

You could hear the hint of hurt in his voice, you shook your head and he frowned. He pulled his hands away, and you let out a mental sigh. He pushed his lips against yours again and you allowed him to claim dominance over your mouth. 

After a few minutes, he parted from you and he had that smile on his face. Like he had won a prize and you couldn’t help but feel warm when you saw it. 

“Don’t worry, we don’t have to tell anyone. This can be our secret I promise.” 

He strokes your cheek lovingly before going back to the living room. You turned around and leaned against the counter shaking your head. You weren’t sure how long this nice act would go on, but you hoped it would last. 

“What did I get myself into?” You mumbled softly. 

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners.

[bigenderanne]

Today was the first time I've checked my inbox since I wrote my side of the situation. I'm working on another post in my drafts now that's bringing out more emotions in me so it might take awhile as it goes more into detail my history with transphobia and abuse, but I wanted to write some more quick and to the point (and less triggery) for those of you who are checking in on me, and to answer a few questions that have repeatedly come up in my hundreds of asks.

Most of the asks have been supportive and checking in on my mental health and physical safety. Thank you for that! Obviously my mental health is still a little shaken, and I'm uncomfortable with the fact she knows we've bought a new house, but I believe we are physically safe. That being said, it is part of the restraining order that's she's not allowed to interact with us on the internet in any way, shape, or form, nor is she allowed to use any electronic means of communication to interact with us, either. This is why I have refrained from responding to any of her posts. It would be completely unacceptable for me interact with her with the expectation she cannot reply.

This leads me into restraining orders. No, you cannot get a restraining order on anybody for any reason. You certainly cannot get one "just because you don't like someone's hair color" as one asker put it. We had to provide evidence that it was necessary for our peace of mind and safety. Stalking is incredibly hard to prove, and "professional" stalkers know the laws and how to skirt them. I am lucky that she didn't. I've worked with people who have been stalked, due to the nature of my job, and will say I had it pretty easy in comparison, just due to the fact she was being so blatant.

I'm obviously not going to name names because she may be reading my blog, but if anything I say upsets her she only has herself to blame. Someone involved in the group chat had been lurking, just due to the fact they joined for the fandom and when it devolved into her talking about how much she hated me, they lost interest. However when she started talking about the intervention, they'd gone back and taken well over a hundred screenshots and compiled them into a folder. In these screenshots were also pictures she had taken of us from afar. Mostly pictures of me at clubs, or at arcades, or drinking/vaping, sometimes talking to men (strangers, people I never spoke to before or since, so I don't even recall these men, but I am a very chatty person and strike up conversations with people I don't know often) insisting that I must be having sex with them based on body language. If anybody even tried to say that I was just probably being friendly, she would immediately tell them she was going to kick them from the group. (She started the channel.) She would often post memes she found on the internet with the theme of how extroverts are terrible and simply leave my name as the comment. It seemed to have become a meme itself within the group chat: they'd find a meme about extroverts that was cruel, or even just a meme about how introverts are so much better, and simply respond with my name. This led to them using my face as a meme and simply reposting the extrovert meme texts around my face. The picture used was one she had taken of me sneezing, which looked absolutely ugly because I was sneezing. (To the handful of asks who made comments about me being an extrovert automatically made it ESH and all extroverts are obnoxious: try hard not to stress too much about starting high school in a few weeks. Freshman year is hard on everyone.)

Outside of the groupchat, although the photos she had taken of me without my consent was probably the only evidence really needed, "Mike" did recount the many, many times she would show up to events "coincidentally" or how she was shopping at all the places he shopped at the same time he shopped despite the fact she lived on the other side of the city where there are more stores closer to where she lives. Furthermore, many of our friends corroborated that she would often ask them what we were doing, if we had plans, and would often show up to events they were at but if we were not in attendance she would leave as soon as it was apparent we wouldn't be showing. Since we had all noticed this behavior, and die to my job I am well aware of the warning signs, we had all began writing down and taking pictures of these incidents, such as how her car was parked outside Mike's street (where it was public property) until two am a few times. The people that were in my house, I have come to find out, were minors, so im trying to be forgiving. I have not spoken to any of them since, and frankly I have no desire to ever speak to, or see, them again, but they are young and she absolutely had them convinced I was cheating. I ought to have called about her entering my home without permission, but I didn't. I didn't want to get cops involved.

Also, there has been a few "lesbians uhauling lol" comments that I can only assume are from terfs, so I don't particularly care, but for those who may be worried about the living situation for non terfy reasons: we have known each other for four years and been best friends for at least three of those four years. We got even closer this past year. Also, I was renting and the screaming did piss off my landlord and even though I explained the situation and I wasn't given an eviction notice, I didn't feel safe staying there because I started getting text reminders about noise complaints for, like, doing laundry in the afternoon. I brought up moving in together to his apartment, but we realized both of us were first time home buyers. He has good credit and doesn't have any school payments, so his debt to income ratio was practically nonexistent. I have great credit, although my DTI is higher than his. The mortgage was more than half what either of us were paying for rent. So really it actually made financial sense as well. We had been casually discussing it before we started dating, moving in as friends/roommates.

I feel like I'm doing as okay as I can, considering the circumstances. I'm a private person so I won't be putting my actual blog title nor hers anywhere. I have no desire to attract more attention to my blog, which is honestly just destiel, Good Omens, OFMD, and other ships. It's not a personal blog at all and I'd like to keep it that way.

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

🥶 with Mario bros for the drabble prompt if you fancy it?:)

Sorry this one took so long! I was planning on posting this a while ago, but it ended up in my drafts, and I didn't realize it till this morning 🙃 😅

🥶 Cold

Writing prompts

~~~~~~~~

"Lu."

"Shush it, Mario."

"Luigi..."

"Stop it."

"Come on, man. I can see you shivering from way over here!"

For some reason, his brother was acting more stubborn than usual today. The two were visiting their family for the holiday, and that it had been awhile since they've gone back to Brooklyn for anything other than a quick repair job or wanting to meet with their ever growing fans.

Unfortunately, the moment they decided to spend a full week at home was also when Mother Nature decided to launch the entire state in a bad snow front, meaning that even though they didn't get alot of snow, the temperature outside was cold as artic and everyone was bundled up to conserve whatever body heat they had left.

That is except for Luigi, who thought it was fine just wearing one thin jacket and only having his hoodie up over his head. No gloves, no ear muffs, not even a scarf!

And the guy wasn't allowing him to even offer any of the ones that he has. Not that either of them would back down anyway.

"I s-said I'm f-f-fine!" Luigi's teeth audible chattered, and he tried to look angry at his brother, who only looked back at him with an expressionless face.

"Wow, yeah, very convincing there, Lu." He rolled his eyes and raised his brow as Luigi matched his eye roll.

"Geez, we're almost at Ma and Pop's anyway, it's not that big of a deal."

'You say that now, but you'll regret it in the morning when you catch a cold....'

He finally put his foot down, without trying to slip on a patch of ice he was standing on. "Okay, look, you're either gonna share this jacket with me, or I'm going to have to force you to wear it. And you and I both know that'll end quickly."

He watched his brother pause in his walk, wrapping his arms tighter around his body, whether to keep himself warm or a last act of stubbornness melting away was his best guess.

"If you're making up your mind, hurry it up cause I'm freezing my butt off right now." He tapped his foot impatiently as he motioned the flap of his coat out to him, trying to ignore the brisk cold air now hitting his chest.

Luigi had finally turned around. His face was unreadable as he trudged his feet against the frozen sidewalk and scuttled into the left side of Mario's winter coat. He had to kneel down a bit so the two were at equal height, but from the way he was shivering, he had confirmed that the testa dura was acting like this for no reason.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Mario." He heard Luigi mumble as they walked a steady pace across the pavement. "You don't have to rub it in."

"Oh, I know I don't to, you've just proved how damn stubborn you are when you need to admit when you're wrong."

"Shut up."

"Nope."

*testa dura- hard head(ed)

[f0xgl0v3]

The Octavian and Michael Quest; Story Snippet

Hahaha I’ve done it. I’m finally going mad, anyways after staring longingly at the Converse wedge high tops vowing to one day add them to my collection (and for some reason way more publicity on the post) I’ve decided that I’m making a like teaser for the Octavian-Michael fanfic I talked about all those weeks ago. Also I’m really bored this mid-winter break and I’m a mediocre narrative writer soo uh

Also if my google docs yell at me one more time because apparently the way I spell something is the British English way I’m going to scream. I’m sorry but it’s travelled. Anyways, I’d like to say again in no way am I an author nor do I think I write stories particularly well. There’s probably a reason why most of my big posts are formatted the way they are,

Also sorry no Michael in the sneak peak/ first bit I wrote, this is just the like. Set up? It’s mean to be short and sweet, enjoy! (also this isn’t proofread I’m so sorry),

I should’ve just chosen to use dice or birds primarily, Octavian thought as he pulled his dagger through another stuffed animal. It stung a bit, partially from the repeated weight of taking the golden blade through fabrics and partially because he had to. The dove between his hands looked pleading with its plastic eyes, the same sound of threads ripping apart while stuffing piled out. It caught in his ears again, the ringing that came before the voices. The same feeling of hair standing on end that Jason described when lightning was about to strike, and that’s when it began,

“Great strife shall befall the legion,” He had heard this voice before, the mixed harmony of several Gods murmuring before one truly broke through. It took awhile to get used to, his ears still rang after most of the Auguries, and Octavian could barely hear his own voice murmur in reply,

“What’s going on?” it felt odd to ask, Octavian’s own voice sounding desperate and panicked, though usually his tone reflected those of the Gods. The world around grew blurry while the harmony thinned out to one single melodious voice, humming in his ears, Venus, something in his mind decided,

“[the super duper cool prophecy that will be there at some point I pinky Promise]”

The world spun some more, and once Octavian’s vision settled the stuffed dove and his dagger had been dropped to the altar, his brows furrowed and breath a bit frantic while he tried to make some sense of what was just delivered to him. A prophecy. An actual prophecy. Octavian tenderly picked up the stuffed dove and dagger again, first giving the poor thing an apology and sewing it back up, gently holding it while he exited the Augurculanum. The blinding rays of the sun beat down on his eyes while Octavian made the run to the Principa from ground zero. His hand tightened around the dove, which was decidedly now named Beatrice. His boots crunched against the gravel roads that wound between most of the buildings. He opted not to walk on the main Via Principa; there would;ve been too many legionnaires walking back from the fields of Mars anyway.

Finally reaching the Principa was always a relief. It was great having most of the buildings Octavian had to go to in the Porta Praetoria; It meant everything was in arms reach. But also subsequently meant that heading to the Principa took longer and always felt more daunting (not to mention the Principa itself always felt impossibly big). Octavian rushed up the few steps and into the door, walking through the big halls and passing several doors and legionnaires before finally slipping into the main office. His eyes travelled to the Praetors; who snapped up once they realized he was there. Marcus spoke up first, already concerned,

“What happend?”

——————————————————————————

That’s it! Uh, I didn’t want to type up a giant thing so there’s the short and sweet version. It’s also a draft partially? It’s my first time writing this little section. I also tried to keep it from being like.. super ahdiajfbsj like how I usually write things. Also the actual one will probably be first person because that means I can do my super fun parenthesis bits in character and that makes me happy.

Anyway goodnight internet.

[themarydragon]

Trouble the Water Continuation

It will be AWHILE before I have anything written, as I am still working to finish my first playthrough, I have a lot of things happening in my life, I am 75% done with the first draft of the first book of my own original world, and my only coherent thought about TOTK right now is SUFFERING 

but

Issues and contemplations below the cut. Some reference to TotK in the fifth paragraph that is spoilery. I tried not to make it explicit, but you have been warned.

First, IDK if you caught it, but the very last chunk of Chapter 2 in Born a Storm talked about sages. Let the record show, I posted that in June of 2020. I have a lot more I had planned for Born a Storm, and stopped writing it due to completely unrelated (cough cough Covid cough cough Loved and Lost) issues. Also, I realized if I was going to turn it into a complete work, like I kinda wanted to, I was either going to have to take it down, or somehow move chapters around as I went and I never actually decided how I wanted to manage that. I am still undecided, and I have to make that decision before my brain will allow me to work on totk in that universe. THE POINT, though, is I thought of a way to tie in sages (just a hundred years too early) that would be satisfying for me to write and not contradict TotK.

Second, SO FAR nothing I’ve found in TotK has completely screwed up my Trouble the Water [TtK] storyline. I’m not FINISHED yet, so that might change, but it really looks like the TotK worldstate is more or less compatible with where I left off in The Quiet River Rages [tQRR] with just a very little bit of handwaving.

Third, YOU CAN’T JUST GIVE ME THIS ANGST AND EXPECT ME NOT TO RUN WITH IT. 

Fourth, I feel like I have all the jumping-off points already loaded into the existing work. For example, tQRR, Chapter 5:  “I would have waited millennia if that’s what it took to get you back. Link, I chose-” Or Zelda’s gentle commune with the sword from Chapter 12 of CWRD.

Fifth, I want to write two parts. One is [spoilers] Zelda’s POV from-then-until-now just like Remember the Spring, and with the same flavor (and for the same reason). Again, I haven’t FINISHED it, but the Master Sword IS sentient and DOES talk to her, canonically, so it’s NOT EXACTLY ALONE and I don’t think forgetting was allowed, not entirely. The final Tear, which is NOT ancient, but rather we witness being shed, indicates possession of Sense of Self or at least Memory that I am definitely going to run with because angst. The other part is Our Boy desperately searching, finding Tears, and reflecting on how F’d up it is, given Zelda’s canonical parental history (her mother, then Rhoam). I don’t know yet exactly what I will include or exclude, but I’ve been in this place before and I know I have to write about it eventually. 

Last, if anybody expected me - ME - to see an amputee kilted tattoo’d protagonist and leave that shit alone, you got another thought coming. My husband has had some REALLY great insight into some of the cinematic moments (Link’s pause before taking Zelda’s hand for the Reverse Time ability) that I think deserve some love.

[sheliesshattered]

My last post about the progress on my Batuu vest left off with me contemplating exterior pockets, looking to Bix Caleen as an example of a fitted vest in the Star Wars universe. I ended up talking myself out of any visible exterior pockets, with or without flaps, after looking at all those pictures of Bix. I've got enough other bits of visual interest going on with my outfit that I felt like exterior pockets just cluttered up the look.

Once I had decided against adding additional pockets, I was able to move on to the next step: finishing all the edges and attaching the lining to the exterior in preparation for getting the zipper in place. I turned under the armscyes of the lining and the exterior separately, both using a blue lace hem tape that I originally bought to go with this fabric back in 2016. Eventually I'll top-stitch them together with the hem tape sandwiched invisibly between the exterior and the lining, but for now they're finished enough to allow me to try the vest on without fraying the armscyes.

It took me awhile to think through all the steps for attaching the zipper, with all the asymmetry and overlapping and exterior and lining, while also not wanting the zipper to show from the outside at all. Eventually I figured out that I would need the underlap (left front) to be completely sewn together with the edges finished before I could attach the zipper to that side -- but I would need the overlap (right front) to not be sewn together yet, so that I could attach the zipper just to the lining.

With that finally figured out, I put the lining and the exterior together with right/finished sides together, lined up all the seams and notches carefully, then pinned the edges together from the left (underlap side) shoulder, down the center front of the underlap, and around the lower edge of the vest all the way around to the bottom corner of the center front on the overlapping right side of the vest.

After a lot of ironing to get all of that to lay flat when right side out, I was able to trim the center front edge of the overlap to be nice and clean and straight again. When I drafted the center front panels, I modified that right side to have an additional ~2" of width past where I wanted the zipper to be, specifically so there would be a built-in flap to cover over the zipper. Remember: no visible zippers in Star Wars!

Once I had the overlap panels of both the lining and the exterior all trued up, I marked the center front line on the lining side (in the below pic, the angled line going from lower left to upper right), laid half of the separating zipper onto the fabric so that the teeth were lined up with where the center front line met the lower edge of the vest, then measured from the outside edge of the zipper ribbon to the cut edge of the overlap panel. It was just about 7cm away from that edge, so I measured that distance all the way up (past the dashed line that marked the underbust elevation) and drew a nice crisp line with my chalk pen.

That gave me an easy line to follow when sewing the zipper to the inside/lining of the overlapping flap. Since I hadn't sewn the edge of that panel together yet, I was able to move the exterior layer out of the way and sew the zipper only to the lining, for now. I sewed one line of stitching just slightly in from the outside edge of the zipper ribbon, then did a second pass about halfway between the edge and the zipper teeth. It's on there nice and secure, but has a bit of room to separate from the fabric while it's being zipped, so it doesn't get fiddly.

After that, it was just a matter of pinning the other side of the zipper to the lower front corner of the underlap (this time on the exterior side of the fabric, where it faces the lining of the overlap), then try it on with the rest of my Batuu Bounding outfit and pin the underlap side of the zipper until I had the fit I wanted.

I sewed down that side to match the overlap panel side of the zipper, then tried everything on again to double-check the fit. It was a bit weird with the exterior of the overlap flap still unattached, but it fit well enough that I decided to sew the edges of that overlap flap from the lower corner up to the shoulder seam. The back of the neckline is still open, and the armscyes have been turned under but not attached to each other yet, so I can turn the whole thing right side out by pulling it through the back of the neck. With all that ironed and the zipper zipped up, the vest looks like this currently:

Folding back the outer edge of the overlap reveals the zipper. Because of all the overlapping and underlapping, the zipper is just top-stitched in place. It was way more mind-bending to figure out where everything needed to be placed to get this look, but way easier to actually sew on than, say, an invisible zipper set into a seam.

At this point I was able to try on the vest (with my Jyn Erso sweatshirt) and get a pretty good idea of the overall look. I still want to do a bunch of top-stitching both for accent and to help everything lay flat, but even with that I think I'm going to need something to keep the flap over the zipper from coming open.

I looked at a bunch of options for Star Wars-y looking buckles, settled on one I liked the best, then cut the basic size of them out of paper and taped five of them to the outside of the overlap just to get a basic idea of how it would look. I got Jack to weigh in on it too, and we both felt that the buckles were reducing the sleekness of the vest, and weirdly pushing it more towards an Imperial/First Order sort of look. My character isn't an out-and-out rebel, but she doesn't side with the First Order either. I pulled the taped on paper off again, and both Jack and I felt that that was the significantly better look.

But since I knew I still wanted some sort of closures to keep the flap down -- including one at the top left shoulder, that will hang open most of the time, along the lines of Han Solo's and Cassian Andor's shirts (and a bunch of others, this sort of overlap detail shows up frequently all throughout the franchise) and thus be visible where it hangs open.

I ended up finding these slightly unusual looking hooks-and-eyes that I think will provide a nice, nearly invisible look through the torso of the vest, but not look totally out of place on the flap edge that's hanging open. Bix's fitted coat has a similar closure of just barely visible, just slightly odd hooks and eyes, so I feel like I'm in good company there. They should arrive tomorrow, giving me enough time to hopefully get some of the top-stitching done before then.

That top-stitching is the next step, and one of the last things I need to do for this vest project. I want to top-stitch just inside all the finished edges, including the armscyes, and on each side of each of the seams, probably 2-3mm away from the edge and the seamline. That's going to involve getting everything lined up correctly and all the seam allowances lying flat inside the space between the exterior and the lining, but I think the effect will be totally worth it, both for the smoother fit and the subtle visual interest.

After that, I'll have some handsewing to do to invisibly anchor the zipper to the exterior of the overlap panel and to attach the hooks and eyes, once they arrive. The very last thing I'll do on this project is decide if I want a little stand-up half collar that ends somewhere on top of the shoulder, a bit like the one on Jyn Erso's vest.

I'm pretty sure I want a collar like that, the question is just if I need to lower the neckline in the back first, and then how far forward on the shoulder I should bring the collar. Once I've decided on that, I'll cut it out in two layers, lining and exterior, and sew the outside edges together. Then I'll be able to sew the lower edge of the exterior to the back of the neckline, and hand-sew the lining lower edge to fully encase all the raw edges. I did something similar with the Moment vest, and it comes together pretty quickly. I think I should be able to have the vest completely done by this time next week without much trouble. Hopefully.

Alongside working on my vest, I've been continuing to hand-sew the pleated panels onto Jack's jacket. In the tags on my last sewing update, I mentioned that I had about 5" still to go on the first panel. I was in the really annoying section in the middle of the sleeve where I really had to put my whole arm into the sleeve just to pass the needle through, and it was slow-going. I had to make myself push through that annoying section, rather than continue to put it off.

Eventually I worked my way all the way down to the cuff, cut off the excess from the pleated panel, turn under the edges of the lowest pleat, and hand-sew that into place. I am so pleased with how it turned out, but to keep Jack from making jokes about only having one sleeve done (and so that I wouldn't find myself with time to hand-sew and nothing ready to sew), I quickly pushed on to getting the second pleated strip started. I took a bunch of measurements from the finished sleeve and transferred them to the second sleeve, pinned the pleated panel into place, and had Jack try it on just to double-check the placement.

I was able to tear through the upper section of that second panel, between my increased speed and confidence in my method of hand-sewing this, the easy access through the neck side of the jacket, and a couple of long-ass work meetings where I was basically just there to listen in and take notes every now and then. As of posting this, I'm about halfway through with the second panel, and starting to get into that annoying section of the sleeve again.

The effect of the pleated panels on both sleeves is just so cool that I will definitely be getting photos of the jacket on Jack at some point, either on our Disneyland day or during a try-on before that. He's somewhat allergic to photos, but damn it I'm proud of how this looks, and I want to show it off. I've been calling it a 'sewist flex' from the very beginning -- look at what I can do, look at how cool and Star Wars-y it is -- and I'm really looking forward to sending this beauty out into the world in all its epicness.

And I think Jack feels similarly, based on how he's been talking about wearing this jacket all the time once it's done. His whole outfit together (this jacket, cream colored henley shirt with the buttons and bottonholes removed, mustard-y tan moto jeans, hiking boots) looks wonderfully casual Batuu Bound. The effect of the whole thing is Star Wars, but none of the individual pieces feel weird or costume-y. He might not wear those pieces together for anything other than going to Batuu, but each piece paired with something else looks pretty normal. So if Jack is able to get a lot of wear out of this modified jacket, all the better. I know I'll get that burst of sewist pride every time I see him wear it, lol.