#it makes me want to cry like. im actually happy eating for the first time in recent memory i can talk about foods i liked.

[daddymaster21]

I like the one by one comments/reblogs that @youdontknowe makes, so I’m trying my hand at it.

-The Horny is also my favorite part of slow burns, just for the record.

-NOOOOOO WE HAVE TO WAIT FOR MORE KISSES

-lmao Dean really like ‘what if I make her cry’ babe that’s hilarious she’s SO down bad

-Awwww them grabbing snacks for each other before anything else is so cute

-HE’S ALMOST CALLED HER BABY TWICE NOW DON’T THINK I DON’T SEE YOU

-I also get sleep-drunk. Catch me spilling life secrets just because I’m gonna take a fucking nap.

-“I’ll have you however” WHY ISNT HE REALLLLLLL

-WOOF the horny is happeningggg

-get fucked Sammy, she plans better than anyone. You should know this by now.

-HAH SHE REALLY JUST SHUT HIM UP LIKE THAT

-absolutely hilarious that she can sense everyone’s horny but him. Or she is sensing it and it trying to tell herself a) he’s not horny for her, or b) it’s just physical, he doesn’t actually want her like that.

-Sam really out here about to get bitch slapped. Or shot. Or stabbed.

-awwww, look! Character growth! He wants her so much! Bring back male yearning fr

-actually, Dean, you’ve only seen her fuck me eyes, because she’s literally wanted you from day one

-Dean, I promise you’re not hiding it well, she’s just blind when it comes to you. Literally every person around you realized this before you did.

-if you write the scene of Alistair being tortured, I so hope princess gets to do it. I know, I know, the NDA.

-“eat my fucking balls,” man, Ben really possessed her for a second there

-i may be wrong but i fully believe Princess is a virgin bc she doesn’t trust herself (or anyone else for that matter) enough to have sex

-“I’m doing this for you” and also me because I’m losing my fucking mind

-KISSING DEAN IS ABOUT BOTH OF YOU, MAKE OUT

-god ain’t real, but Chuck is, and boy howdy is she gonna have WORDS for him

-oral fixation for the win!!!

-hyperfixation for the win except for the part where you forget to do basic human necessities

-all the way down EXCEPT FOR ALL THE WAYS IT COUNTS CRASH INTO EACH OTHER IM BEGGING

-girl he’s so down bad for you it’s not even funny, you’re literally getting jealous of yourself rn

-ah yes, my least favorite part of slow burns (that inevitably always comes with the horny) the DENIAL

-oh my god it was her first KISS????? EVEN BETTER HOLY SHIT IM EATING THIS FOR BREAKFAST (more like dessert it’s late by now)

-Dean constantly talking about everyone around them thinking she’s perfect vs her saying no one has ever really looked at her. You’re killing me.

-HAHAHAHA THE THING HES BEEN TRYING NOT TO DO THIS WHOLE TIME IS THE THING THAT TIPS HER OFF

-YOU’RE NOT MAKING US WAIT ANYMORE!!!! I LITERALLY CANNOT TELL YOU HOW HAPPY I AM THANK YOUUUUU

Chapter 19 - That's Nothing New

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: Welcome to my favorite part of any slow burn: horny

Chapter Title from Vertigo by Griff

Word Count: 18.4k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: A very special valentine’s episode. Usual Warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff, pining, action

Chapter 18 - Chapter 20

Read on A03!

They hadn’t talked about it. 

Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it. He didn’t know where that conversation led. 

It could be simple. He could corner Her in Bobby kitchen, ask Her what it meant to Her, and they’d have to have The Conversation. And Dean—for once in his life—might get pretty damn lucky, and She’d say it meant the same to Her that it had meant to him.

Everything. 

The kiss had meant everything. It what most of what he was made of, now. The memory of it playing on a heavy loop in his head, the taste of Her lingered on his tongue—he was starting to develop a small habit of licking his lips every single freaking second, trying to gather up whatever little bits of Her remained like some sort of creep—and his hands were itching to touch Her again. 

He didn’t have a goddamn clue how he’d managed to go so long without touching Her. Kissing Her. Trying to find out every single way She could possibly moan his name, because son of a bitch, that was the best thing he’d ever heard.

She was the best thing Dean had ever had. 

And he didn’t even know if it had meant anything to Her.

There were a lot of ways that conversation could go, and Dean had played out most of them in his head already. It was a like planning for a hunt. He’d grab her in the kitchen, because that would give Her more of a warning than if he started The Conversation in Her bedroom, and a better place for him to escape than if he used to Impala.

In some versions, he started The Conversation, then pussied out and ran away. He was a fucking coward. Dean knew how to talk to ladies. He was good at talking to ladies. He was good at talking to Her.

But not about this. 

“Why’re you up, Princess?”

Dean had woken up a few days ago, and She hadn’t been in bed. The only thing that kept him from freaking out was how he could still smell Her on the sheets. And She wouldn’t have just left. She’d pinky promised him She wouldn’t just leave.

He’d found Her in the library. Of course he had. Absentmindedly scratching notes on a small piece of paper as she read, Her brow furrowed in the cuter, less painful version of Her little wrinkle, not even flinching or starting as Dean made himself known.

“Couldn’t sleep.” She’d muttered, and Dean had shrugged.

“You’re not gonna sleep, if you’re down here.”

“I’ll be fine.” She’d written down another note that—when Dean had craned his neck—was obviously in Enochian. She’d been doing that more lately, and Dean didn’t really want to think about why. “Go back to bed, De.”

He could’ve. But that would mean leaving Her, and Dean had promised not to do that. And this had been the perfect time. For The Conversation. No Bobby to try and shoot him, no Sammy to tease him, no Jo to make little jokes about it. Just Her and Dean, in the dead hours of the night.

In the moment, he’d really thought he could do this. 

“So, uh,” He’d cleared his throat, and She’d glanced up from Her book. “Angels.”

She’d frowned. “What about them? I- Nothing has tried to break through the wards, right? Because a lot of those sigils are experimental, but they should start like, glowing, if something is coming-“

“Nothing’s coming.” Dean had mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just. You know. Lotta stuff happening.”

“Like…” She raised Her brows, and Dean wasn’t sure how She always managed to look so perfectly put together. “Angels?”

“Yeah.”

She’d hummed, scanning over Dean with an unreadable expression, and he’d felt like She was looking right into his soul-

Son of a bitch, She probably was. She could see Dean’s soul, and if Hell somehow hadn’t made Her run, this was going to. He didn’t know how it worked, but the want in his body for Her wasn’t pure, and if She saw it and hated it, Dean would end up alone-

“Are you feeling okay?” Her voice had been soft as She cut off Dean’s thoughts, and he’d blinked. “De, you- You’re really red.”

“‘M fine.” He’d mumbled, and She’d shaken Her head.

“Did you get sunburned or something? I know it’s winter, but you’re outside all the time, and I have aloe if it hurts-“

“Nothing hurts.” He’d thrown Her his best, widest, most charming smile, and moved to drop at Her side. “What are we reading?”

She’d smiled slightly, pulling Her book away from Dean’s gaze. “We’re not reading anything.”

“I can read-“

“Not this.”

“But-“

“It’s a girl book, De.” 

He hadn’t known what a girl book was. He still wasn’t entirely sure. 

He’d stayed anyway.

“C’mon, I did those face masks with you and Jo. I can read your girl book.” He’d reached out a hand, and Her eyes had widened.

“Dean-“

“I’m not going back to bed.”

She’d stared at him, and Dean had known She’d heard the silent words. 

Without you. I’m not going back to bed if you’re not there.

“Do you…” She’d swallowed, Her eyes never leaving Dean’s, and maybe he should’ve damned it all and kissed Her again there. “I’m hungry. Are you-“

“I’m always hungry, Princess.” Dean had grinned, and offered Her his hand. “Gas station?”

She’d given him a small smile and nod, The Conversation hadn’t happened, and Dean had decided that bringing it up naturally—which had, somehow, been the plan in the library—had to be taken off the table as an option.

But he didn’t know how to do it otherwise. 

Hey, Princess, you’re the best thing that ever happened to me and if you want to kiss me again, I won’t stop you. Wrong. She was beautiful being that was above goddamn heaven, Dean couldn’t ask Her out like it was a suggestion to get him more pie. Like this wasn’t the most important thing he’d ever done. 

I’m a piece of shit, sweetheart, but I want you, so I’m sorry about that, but could you please fucking kiss me again before I lose my mind. Wrong again. She shouldn’t have to. It didn’t mean anything if She kissed Dean to keep him from losing his mind. She had to want it.

I think you’re fucking awesome. She knew that. It had never gotten Her to kiss him before.

Every single time I dream, it’s about you- 

He wasn’t a teenage girl.

Do you have any idea how fucking hard I get whenever you smile at me? How many times I’ve imagined grabbing you and pinning you to the wall, or bending you over the table, or getting on my knees and-

Bobby would shoot him. He’d deserve it.

You’re like the universe, and I’m sorta like the stars, so how this should work is I fill you up-

He was going to shoot himself.

And there were too many variables for what She might say. Maybe it really had meant nothing to Her, and She’d tell Dean that, and he’d just have to fucking live with that. 

Worse, maybe it had meant everything to Her. Maybe Dean really, fully had Her if he wanted Her, and now he could lose Her. Break Her. Maybe She’d say Deano, of course I’m the universe, but you’re somehow the best thing that happened to me too, and climb on his lap and kiss him again, and he’d get to hold Her, but know angels were hunting Her and Alistair might try to take Her away.

Even if that was the case, even if She did—against all odds and reason—want Dean, he had to have The Conversation about it, first. 

He still didn’t know how to do that. Because it was exactly like planning for a hunt. And the number one rule of making plans for hunts was that you were going to have to improvise. Move on instinct, and stay alive. Speak on instinct, and keep Her by his side.

Dean did not know how to speak on instinct. And if he stumbled or tripped in a hunt—he didn’t, really, ever, as killing monsters was a whole lot easier than trying to tell Her that he’d kill and die to kiss Her just one more fucking time—the only thing it would cost Dean was himself. He never hesitated, when it was Her or Sammy on the line, so the only person that ever ended up hurt because of Dean fucking a hunt up was himself. And that was acceptable.

He didn’t know how to do that for The Conversation. How to find his way with all the right words should he lose them. He could say something horrible, say something wrong, fuck it up and lose Her forever. There were no bullets or blades to jump in front of, if She started to get upset.

Son of a bitch, what if She started to get upset.

What if She started to cry, and Dean wasn’t allowed to calm Her down because he’d fucked it all up. He couldn’t live with himself, if that was how it played out. Dean could barely tolerate himself now, when he’d down and swear that there was blood on his hands once more. She’d stayed when She knew about the blood. If Dean lost Her now, because of his words, there would be no one else to blame but himself.

He was supposed to be Her shadow. And this was part of being Her shadow, but the most important part was keep Her safe and never let anything hurt Her.

Dean could have hurt Her.

But She’d kissed him back. Over the past few weeks, whenever Dean would roll over and look at Her in bed, he’d remind himself that She’d kissed him back. She’d wanted it. He was a piece of shit, but not that low and ugly in the mud. He’d never do that to anyone.

But he was still fantasizing about Her. And it was wrong, so fucking wrong to look over Her in the night and brush hair from Her face because he was allowed to, only to turn around and shuffle into the shower in the morning, and replay the kiss over and over in his head until his cock was raw in his hand.

Even now, sitting in the dark of a parking lot with Her at his side, Dean was having too many fantasies.

They’d been doing it every other night, since the library. Going out to the gas station in the dead of night, just them, together, whenever one of them couldn’t sleep. Tonight She’d even woken Dean up with big glossy eyes and a sad little furrow on Her brow. 

“I- I’m sorry.” She’d whispered, looking a little too much like the exact image that had been in Dean’s head only seconds before. Where She was hovering above him, but his hands were on Her hips, and his mouth was wrapped around one of Her nipples as She rode his cock and screamed his-

He'd been dangerously close to getting hard, and forced himself to focus on the soft nervousness of Her voice—obviously distressed and, for reasons he'd never understand, seeking his comfort—to calm down.

"You can go back to bed, if you want, but-"

"No, 's alright." Dean had rubbed the sleep from his eyes, holding Her against him before she decided to run away. "I was up anyway."

That was a lie. They both knew that was a lie, but She smiled, and it was worth the consequence of another sin added to his roster. 

"You need a ride?" He'd asked, and She'd flushed, giving him a small nod.

"I- Um, yes. Please."

It hadn't been until they were in the car that Dean caught his own wording. Or the fact that holding Her to make sure she stayed had meant grabbing Her by waist and pinning her to his body.

That would be a good way to start The Conversation.

Baby, if I had kissed you right there, would you have stabbed me for real this time, or let me take care of you.

Dean wasn't brave enough to say it. But he could think it, over and over until he drove himself insane. And he could stare at Her in the soft shadows and lights of the parking lot, and know that he'd never be able to have The Conversation. 

He couldn't afford to push his luck. When he didn't dream about kissing Her, he dreamt about Hell. And She'd started to infect those dreams too, since Boston. Since Dean found out She'd been there, and still hadn't left him. He would've left him, if that was an option. Shit, Sammy and Bobby still didn't know, and he dreaded the day they looked at him and saw him. Saw that vast fucking pit that had been in Dean his whole life, ripped open into a chasm by his own hand, and knew what he was.

Worse than a monster. Lower than the mud. 

Never fucking worthy of anything, let alone Her. The drop-dead gorgeous, ethereal, literally fucking magical woman made of stars, who could see him, and was staying.

Dean couldn’t take more from Her than she was already offering, just by staying and letting him care for Her at least like this. He'd gotten to kiss Her once, and that was more than he deserved. He got to be the one She came to in the dead of night for comfort and company. She wasn't leaning against anyone else in the car. Wasn't holding their hand like it was a lifeline as they wandered through the gas station. Didn't stand on Her toes to whisper in anyone's ear but Dean's, because he was Her shadow. No one else.

She'd asked if they could get ice cream. Asked it like Dean wouldn't give Her the fucking Sun if he could figure out how to grab it.

And now She was curled up at his side, a little bit of it stuck on Her nose, and Dean would be fine never kissing Her again, as long as he got to be the one who wiped the splotch away with his thumb and licked it clean. 

“Do you want some?” She held the tub out with raised brows, and Dean gave Her a small grin. 

“Nah, I got my pie.”

“But you gave me some of yours-“

“Cause you were staring, Princess, and I’m a-“ Dean paused, frowning at the air. “What do you call those guys who give people all their things?”

A small, soft smile covered Her features. Dean had never seen anything prettier. “Samaritans?”

“Yeah, that. I’m one of those.”

She giggled, leaning Her head back on the bench. “You know, Sam told me you threatened to exorcise Ruby if she tried to take your ice last week.”

“Well, the bitch didn’t fucking pay for it.” Dean grumbled. “And it is Ruby. You’d have threatened worse.”

“Touché.” She turned Her head to the side, watching Dean through the dark, and he knew She could see it. If She could see his soul, She had to see the chasm as well.

And She was still looking at him. Staying at his side. He didn’t fucking understand why.

“Dean?”

He grunted, fiddling with his jerky bag. She’d grabbed it before anything else. They’d barely been in the store for ten seconds before She’d shoved it into Dean’s hands, the same way he’d grabbed a root beer and passed it to Her without a thought. He didn’t want to think about what that meant. 

“I’m worried about Sam. He’s- You know I don’t trust Ruby, and they’ve been hanging out a lot-“

“I know.” Dean muttered. “I am too, but- I don’t know, sweetheart. He’s not listening to me about it anymore. Says I’m blinded about-“

He cut himself off, because the end of that sentence was Her. That Dean was blinded in his worry about Her, and how because She and Ruby didn’t like each other, they couldn’t bring Her on the seal cases. 

They’d gotten in a fight about it, last week. On the drive back, Dean had grumbled something about missing Her, wanting to bring Her on the next one because She’d fucking nail it—these were Her exact types of cases, weird and impossible to understand until she gave it a once over and got it in ten seconds—and thinking it was unfair that Sam got to bring his untrustworthy demon everywhere, but Dean couldn’t bring his awesome, brilliant, perfect Her.

Sam had sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want her here, Dean, you know I do, but- Ruby’s worried she’ll kill her-“

“Good.” Dean had muttered. “She will.”

“She shouldn’t! Ruby’s the only demon we’ve got completely on our side-“

Dean had snorted. “Jesus, Sammy, I really thought you were smarter than thinking a demon would ever be on our side-“

“Ruby is, she’s proved over and over that she is-“

“Proved to you.”

“She’s tried to prove to you as well, man, but you’re just never wrong about people, I guess-“

“I am wrong about people! I know I’ve been wrong about people, but you know who’s never fucking wrong about people?” Dean had spat Her name, and Sam’s mouth had snapped shut. “I don’t need Ruby to prove herself to me, she needs to prove herself to-“

“The woman who wants to kill her?” Sam had mumbled, watching Dean carefully, and he’d been damn near close to strangling the wheel.

“To the woman who can see fucking souls. She’s not wrong. And I want her on the next seal.”

Sam had sighed. “Dude, if you just want to stay with her, you can skip the next case. I- It’s not just about Ruby.” Sam had said Her name gently, giving Dean a sympathetic look he didn’t fucking want. “If we put her on a seal case, the angels will notice. It won’t be safe for her-“

“I’d protect her.” 

“But what if you can’t, Dean.” Sam’s voice had been too fucking soft. “It’s- The seals are a lot, but all the Magdalene stuff is… different. You told me Cas doesn’t understand it, and Ruby-“

“Don’t.” Dean had pushed the words through his teeth. He was done with the conversation, because he would protect Her. That was the whole point of being Her shadow. If he couldn’t touch Her, at least he could protect Her. And if He couldn’t do that, he might as well just be another asshole in the mud. 

“Dean-“

“No. Don’t tell me what Ruby thinks of my-“ Dean had snapped Her name, and if Sam caught his slip, he didn’t say anything. “Ruby called her a bitch. You know that, Sam? Ruby called her a self-important bitch.”

Sam had—wisely—looked down at his hands with a shameful expression. “I- Dean, I’m not trying to-“

“I don’t care. You know she’s better than Ruby.” She was better than all of them. “And I want her. On the case. Got it?”

Sam had nodded, and that had been the end of it. If She wanted, they’d bring Her on the next seal case. 

If She wanted.

Dean hadn’t asked yet. He hadn’t found a time for it. She was already dealing with enough. 

Yet was another reason they hadn’t had The Conversation. Between the seals, his fights with Sam about Ruby, and the whole dangerous bringer of change thing Cas had dropped on them, this was simply not a good time to start begging Her to tell him what he meant to Her, like he was some kind of pathetic little yipping dog. Trying to get Her attention and affection, when she needed to be working. 

They all needed to be working. 

Dean still spent too much time staring at Her lips, and wondering if just licking them would let him taste the fruit again. 

He’d been staring at Her for too long now. Where She could see it. She’d asked him a genuine question, Dean had been a piece of shit and lost himself in thoughts of licking Her. 

“I, uh- At least you’re coming with us. Instead of Ruby.”

She frowned at him. “What?”

“Next seal case. You’re-“

“Dean,” She sighed, and he’d done something wrong. She was pouting at him a little, and rubbing the scar on Her palm—She’d never actually told him how She got it, but it would once again be far too greedy to take more—so Dean had done something wrong.

“If you want.” He added, trying to keep his voice perfectly even and natural. “They’re just a lot of weird, crazy shit, and you love that stuff-“

“It’s not that.” She whispers, giving him a sad smile. “You remember what Cas said. I- Sam’s right, keeping me away from the seals. That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Dean had a lot of issues with that. To start, Sam was not right. She should not be kept away from anything. Second, and more importantly- “What are you worried about, then?”

“I- I think she’s doing something to him.”

“Ruby? To Sammy?” Dean frowned. Sam was the same. A little angrier, and more exhausted, but the same. 

But She nodded, the movement nervous. “I- I don’t know how. Or what. But I’m really worried about him, Dean, I shouldn’t have run when you-“ She swallowed, and Dean hadn’t missed how She’d been doing that. Aside from their fight in Texas, She never said dead, or died, or death. And Her lips were being chewed raw by her teeth, and Her eyes were a little glazed as she stared at Dean, and- 

There was the wrinkle.

Dean pulled Her fully into his arms without thinking about it. If She wanted to shove him away, She could, and he wouldn’t fight it. But she just dropped Her head into his chest with a long breath, shaking Her head against his body.

“We’re past that, Princess.” He murmured, not sure what else to say. “You’re not running anymore. Remember, I’ll catch you if you try.”

She sighed, the sound a little shaky. “You still need to explain that, Winchester.“

“I’m good.” He shrugged, smiling a little into the air. “I’m not blaming you for what Sam did while I was gone, same as I’m not blaming Sam for you.”

That was a little bit of a lie. But it made Her relax, and She didn’t need to know that he’d shouted at Sam and Bobby for losing Her, so he let it go. 

“Sammy’ll be fine. He’s an idiot, but he’s the smartest little idiot on the planet-“

“He is not little.” She mumbled, and Dean chuckled.

“His soul is little.”

“No, it isn’t.” She buried Her face a little further in Dean’s body. He couldn’t think about it. “It’s big and shiny.”

“Huh.” Dean frowned down at Her. “What about-“

“You’re big and shiny too.”

Warmth inflated in his chest, and that shouldn’t have made him as proud as it did. He was big and shiny. Even if She was obviously hitting the point of sleepy where Dean would think She was drunk if he didn’t know better, She’d called him big and shiny.

And golden. She’d said Dean was golden, and no matter what She could see on his body after Hell, she hadn’t taken it back. 

“What are you?” He asked, running his fingers through Her hair and making his voice soft, and She shrugged. 

“‘M not anything.”

“You-“

“But I can feel it. Everything.” 

“Oh. Of course.” Dean smiled down at Her. “You ready to go home, b- Princess?”

She nodded, but didn’t move. Her fingers curled into his shirt. “What about the next case?”

Dean sighed. He wanted Her there, so fucking much. 

Almost as much as he wanted Her to get what She wanted.

“You don’t have to go-“

“I want to go!” Her voice was almost a whine, and Dean couldn’t let himself think too hard about it as She leaned back, looking up at him with big eyes and shiny hair falling around Her face. “I wanna go Dean, but I- What if the angels don’t want me there?”

“Who gives a shit what they think?”

“I do.” She whispered. “What if they put you back in Hell?”

Dean didn’t know if they could do that. “They won’t.” He hoped he sounded more confident in that than he felt. “They need me for all the seal stuff, and you’re gonna be great at it, so they need you.”

She shook Her head. “They don’t need me. They don’t want me interfering. Cas said they’d take precautions.”

“I don’t care.”

“Dean, I care. I- I’m not already pushing it just by staying with you at Bobby’s, I don’t want to-“ She took a shaking breath, staring at Her hands on Dean’s chest. “We still don’t really know what I am. And if the Magdalene who brought the Roman Empire was barely even five percent…”

“Magic?” Dean offered as She trailed off, and she nodded.

“What am I going to do?”

They hadn’t really talked about this either. The Magdalene thing. Dean didn’t really have anything to say about, because it really hadn’t been an actual answer. They had a name, but no matter how many books She and Sammy read, how many contacts Bobby and Ellen reached out to, nobody had ever even damn heard of it. And angels and demons freaking out about Her wasn’t anything new, and nothing had shifted where She was suddenly some sort of lamb to be sacrificed, or monster to be caged.

She was still just Her. As far as Dean cared, no matter how they framed it, She was Herself, and nothing else really fucking mattered. He’d keep looking for answers because She wanted them, but for Dean, She was enough all on her own. 

“You’ll do whatever you want.” He muttered, holding Her gaze. “And if you want to come on this next one, that’s it.”

She sighed. “Dean-“

He hummed Her name back, and grinned at Her glare.

“What if I’m a seal?” She grumbled. “Have you thought of that?”

“Nope.” Dean slid Her back into her place, pressing a greedy kiss to her brow at the last second. “And I’ll have you however, arfing or not.”

She giggled, shaking Her head. 

It was resting back on his shoulder.

He’s not allowed to think about it.

“That’s not funny.”

“You laughed.”

“I’m tired-“

“And I’m trying to get you to bed.” Dean started Baby’s engine, and She let out a soft hum. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow, Princess. Let’s get you some rest.” 

She didn’t fight it. When Dean pulled Her out of the car, she slumped into his side. He got to all but carry Her up the stairs, and help her back into bed, before crawling in right beside Her. And that was more than anyone else got.

It would have to be enough. For Her to let Dean touch Her at all, when she’d seen what he’d done. For Her to listen to him at all, and agree to go on the case, when all She’d have to say was no, Dean, and he’d drop it. He’d suck it up and deal with Ruby for another week, forcing himself not to grab his phone and call Her every ten minutes. 

But She’d agree. 

She was going on the case. Dean wouldn’t have to deal with Ruby, and—more importantly—he’d get to see Her. All week. In the rearview mirror on the car ride and on the other side of his motel bed, across from him in the diner and next to him at the bar. 

“It’s good we know this is a seal going in.” Sam said, watching Her draw on a paper napkin. 

She’d been doing that a lot, lately. In Enochian, without bothering to tell Sam and Dean what she was doing.

Dean really wasn’t sure how he’d ask. The best he could offer himself was pressing right into Her side and staring over Her shoulder, only half listening as Sam tried to talk about the case.

In his defense, none of them were really paying attention. Dean was staring at Her, She was focused on her napkin, and Sammy kept getting distracted by a redhead making fuck-me eyes at him. Then he’d make the eyes back, before coughing and trying to continue the conversation whenever Dean glanced over and caught him.

She paused, glancing up with a small frown. “Do you usually not know?”

“Sometimes Cas drops in and gives us a heads up,” Dean leaned a little further forward. He didn’t know what he was looking for. He wasn’t magic, and he definitely couldn’t speak angel. “Told us that heaven knows Lilith’s making moves in Florida, and whatever she’s starting, we need to squash.”

She gave Dean an amused look. “Cas did not say making moves.”

“You can’t prove that, sweetheart.” Dean winked at Her, and Sam cleared his throat. 

“We also know what she’s doing-“

“What moves she’s making-“

“Shut up, Dean. A lot of couples have been murdered at the resort we’re headed to.” Sam wrinkled his nose. “Like, a lot. Too many to be normal.”

She hummed, looking back to Her paper. “How many is a lot?”

“Eight.”

“That’s not a lot.”

Sam frowned at Her. “What number would be a lot?”

“I dunno. Fifteen?” 

“That is not a-“

“Yes, it is.” She looked up to Dean. “Fifteen’s a lot, right Deano?”

Sam scoffed. “You can’t ask Dean, he’s just going to agree with you.”

Dean scowled. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are, dude-“

“Well, you’re not giving him a chance to answer, Sam-“

“And I wasn’t going to agree with her-“

She turned to give Dean a pretty, wide-eyed look, and son of a bitch, his cock twitched in his pants. “You weren’t?”

“I- Uh.” Dean coughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t really think about it! You and Sam started yelling and shit, I wasn’t really paying attention-“

“Why?” Sam raised his brows, suddenly looking a hell of a lot more smug than earlier. “What were you looking at instead, Dean?”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Shut up, Sammy. Go flirt with the redhead who’s been making eyes at you and leave us alone.”

Sam sighed. “We’re in the middle of a case, Dean-“

“Technically the case hasn’t started,” She hummed. “And we get it. Dying couple, resort, Lilith, figure out exactly what the seal is and stop it from being broken. Easy.”

“It’s not easy, and you haven’t even heard the actual plan yet-“

“We’ll go undercover,” She refocused on Her napkin, voice smooth and bored. “We’ll need a patron, a bartender, and a staff member. Optimized access to the facility, a lot of good reasons to talk to people, none of us too out of place for talking to each other.”

Sam frowned. “How would staff and patrons talking not be conspicuous-“

“Staff could be work friends. Patron could be just nosing their way into the conversation. As long as we’re careful, it’ll be fine. The patron will have to stay in their room, to keep appearances, but I doubt Lilith is wire-tapping phones.”

Sam’s mouth opened and closed, and he finally gave in with a sigh. It was a good plan. Of course it was. It was Her plan.

Dean let that show all over his face, as he shot Sammy a smug look. They hadn’t even gotten to the seal yet, and his girl was already killing it. Ruby would’ve talked about sneaking around and breaking in and other stupid shit. She was smarter than that. 

“Go flirt with the redhead, Sam.” She didn’t look up from Her napkin, and Sam sighed.

“I’m not- It’s almost valentine’s day, guys, I’m not trying to be. You know. The guy.”

She looked up. “The guy? What’s the guy?”

“You- Dean knows. He’s been the guy-“

“Sam.” Dean grunted. “Shut it. Go flirt.”

She shook Her head, frowning between them. “I- Sam, what’s the guy-“

“It’s a dude thing.” Dean snapped, and She scoffed.

“I thought we were breaking gender barriers, Winchester. You did me and Jo’s girl things-“

Sam grinned. “What girl things?”

“Nothing. Both of you, shut the fuck up. Sam,” Dean pointed firmly at the red-head with the fuck-me eyes. “Flirt. And you,” Dean turned his glower down to Her, and she covered his mouth with a hand.

That shouldn’t have been as effective as it was. Dean was suddenly too consumed by Her hand—warm and soft and over his mouth—to keep protesting.

“Sam, what’s the guy.”

At least Dean got an apologetic look first. “It’s, uh- The valentine’s day bar guy. Who sleeps with lonely women, because he knows that’s all they want. And,” Sam was still talking. Why the hell was Sam still talking. “Dean hasn’t been that guy in a long time, I promise, I was just making fun of him.”

“Oh.” Dean couldn’t read the expression on Her face. “Okay. Go.”

Sam frowned. “Go-“

“Redhead, Sam.” Her hand dropped from Dean’s mouth. He wanted it to come back. He could kiss Her knuckles, then pin her arms over her head and-

Dean could not get another boner in public, just from thinking about Her. He needed to pull it together.

“But, uh-“ Sam was still protesting, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m not-“

“Maybe she’ll be your soulmate or something.” She shrugged, looking back to the napkin. Dean couldn’t read that tone either. “Go.”

“I, I haven’t done that,” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down the bar. “In a while. What if-“

“You’ve got this, Buddy.” She gave Sam a thumbs up, and Her voice was bubbly. Dean’s never heard Her be bubbly before. “Go.”

Sam nodded slowly, scooted out of his chair, and the moment Sam was out of earshot, she sighed and rolled Her eyes at Dean.

“Thank god. I could like, fucking feel her.”

Dean frowned. “What?”

“The redhead.” She nodded to where Sam had disappeared in the crowd, Her attention back on the napkin. “She’s been staring at him all night, and god, she’s horny, Dean. It’s like, all over the table.”

She wasn’t tired. She’d actually slept really well last night. And She still didn’t drink, so Dean didn’t need to be worried about that.

He still didn’t have a clue what She was talking about.

“What.”

She sighed, looking up to Dean. He couldn’t breathe. “Her soul. When someone want companionship, they put out like, pheromones. Kind of. It’s hard to explain when you can’t see them.”

“Oh.” Dean paused, then tensed as it hit him. She could tell when people were horny.

Dean was horny all the fucking time.

“Son of a bitch.”

“Are you-“

“Yeah, Princess I’m-“ He swallowed. “Can you just like, see it? When people are, uh. Lookin’ for action?”

“No. It’s, like- It’s not a smell, but it’s not not a smell, and they’re kinda like tentacles-“ 

“Tentacles-“

“No, but yes, and-“ She sighed, shaking Her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to explain it-“

“Hey,” Dean grabbed Her hand before he could second think it, and Her lips parted. Hitched breath. 

Shit.

“You’re fine.” He muttered. “I was just wondering. Don’t hurt yourself, Princess.”

She nodded slowly, still staring at him, and Dean could feel the heat on his face. This was getting too close to something that might cause The Conversation. Dean was not ready for The Conversation.

“Uh, since when can you see that shit?”

She let out a long, slow breath. “I don’t know. Being around people is doing… A lot.” She frowned at the napkin. “It’s kind of messy.”

“Messy-“

“Colorful.”

Dean nodded slowly. He didn’t really fucking understand—with Her, he never did—but he knew what mattered. “It’s it too much?” He tried to keep his voice soft, and he was rewarded with a small nod. 

“Too much.”

“Alright.” Dean pushed off his stool, moving his hand to Her lower back. “Let’s go. We’ll pick up Sammy in the morning.”

She blinked at him in adorable confusion. “Dean-“

“C’mon, we’re going back to the motel.” Dean smirked over at where the redhead was half in Sam lap. “Think we’re done here anyway.”

Dean was certainly done here. He was done anywhere that would make Her curl up into Herself, and there was nothing else for him to do—in this bar or anywhere in the world—but care for Her. 

Sammy seemed happy with his fuck-me-eyes redhead, but Dean was going to have to punch him later for bringing up how Dean used to be one of those guys. It didn’t matter that he had been. Dean had—very purposefully, for a long time—been one of those guys, and he’d been pretty fucking good at it. He wasn’t such a fucking asshole to deny that he had very much thrived on being one of those guys. It had kept him satiated in the dark, the brief touches and lies of permanence and possession. It may have been an artificial light—leaving him hungrier and lonelier than before, once the effects wore off—bur it had worked. He’d done it. And he wouldn’t take it back, because the pit might have swallowed him otherwise. 

But Dean wasn’t one of those guys now.

He really hadn’t been for a while. He hadn’t been that guy on Valentine’s day, but he also hadn’t been that guy at random bars, or the roadhouse, or on the cases. And he didn’t know when it had stopped all together-

That was a fucking lie. 

He knew exactly when it stopped.

It was sooner than he’d ever admit to anyone. It wasn’t after he got back from hell, or he found out about Her magic stuff, or when she learned about the deal and stayed. It wasn’t even when he’d started sharing Her bed.

She’d settled into the backseat of his car like She belonged there, decided to stay for the first time after those witches in Utah—when they’d been looking for Jo and found Her—and Dean had been done with bars and fuck-me eyes. Done with artificial light to keep him from falling into the pit.

And She’d told him about photosynthesis, a while ago. He didn’t know how the hell that had worked itself into a conversation, but She said it’s how plants eat, Deano. They absorb the sunlight and turn it into energy. 

Dean might be a plant. 

She might be the sun. 

And he couldn’t go back to artificial light if he tried.

He did still make fuck-me eyes, though. As he stood alone in the shower—Her long asleep in their bed—Dean could admit he made fuck-me eyes a lot. At Her.

She never seemed to see them, though. Even when they’d been obvious, and he’d been so fucking worried he’d been caught, nothing on Her features had ever shifted. 

Other people made fuck-me eyes at Her, as well. They have to be insane and blind and stupid not to. Everyone should want Her. Dean just didn’t want anyone else to have Her. Not like that. Not less than She deserved, without complete fucking devotion and a feral kind of feeling in their bodies Dean knew he had. And he wouldn’t have any logical reason to stop Her if she took up their offers—he could try no, I’m yours, take me instead, but he didn’t think it would work—and he’d gotten really good at not destroying himself about the idea, because She never did.

Dean had never seen Her fuck-me eyes, now that he thought about it. Not where he could see. 

But he knew She did give him the fluttering, blinding wouldn’t it be good to die for me eyes. 

She might not know she does that.

She can’t know the way that just picturing them is making him so hard it’s a little painful. Just like She can’t know that, before he crawled into bed at Her side, he’d beat his cock into his hands until he came with a groan of Her name.

Dean shouldn’t have kissed Her. 

The knowledge of how She tasted, felt, sounded—gasping his name like She wanted him—was making his decade long practice of best friend, don’t think about Her like that in the daylight, because you don’t deserve it and could never have it a little fucking impossible.

But he was hiding it well.

Dean was pretty fucking sure he was hiding it well.

“There’s no fucking way she’s being the patron, Sammy.” 

She glared at him in the rearview mirror, and Sam looked really fucking amused and pleased for a guy that had stumbled back twenty minture late without underpants.

Dean would’ve ever been proud of him—if he had to be stuck in the orbit of some sort of fucking Goddess he couldn’t touch, at least Sammy was getting some—if he hadn’t just suggested something fucking insane. 

“I can be the patron.” She snapped, Her eyes narrowing. “I’d be a great fucking patron. I can wear a swimsuit, and order stupid drinks, and- and I can act ditzy! And sit on the beach!”

Son of a bitch, She was adorable. Glaring at Dean, mumbling about how She could be ditzy—ditzy people didn’t use the word ditzy—and completely fucking missing the point. Dean knew She’d be a good patron. Between the three of them, She’d be the best patron. She already looked the better and fancier than everyone else part, all the time. She already carried Herself like an angel fallen to Earth—better, actually, because the angels tended to walk all stiff and angry—and She already spoke like if She told the ocean to stay at low tide forever, it would. She’d just need to lose all the softer light in Her eyes and blinding smile that told people She was crafted only from good things, to stop using Her manners, and be a whole lot less adorable and caring, and they’d have their perfect patron.

But Dean was, once again, a selfish piece of shit. 

The patron would have to sleep in the resort. Alone.

Away from the other two.

She’d have to sleep away from Dean.

“I’m not worried about your talents, Princess.” He muttered. “Sammy’ll be a good patron, I can tend bar, and you can be staff.”

Sam raised his hand. “I’m not going to be a good patron. There are like, different forks I’ll have to use, and I never learned those-“

“I did!” She leaned forward, almost propping Her chin on Dean’s should. It wasn’t helping. “I took etiquette lessons until, um- Well, until I made all the cups explode because I needed to pee and no one would let me, but I remember all the forks!”

God fucking damnit. Of course She knew all the forks. “You’re not going to a gala, Sammy. You don’t need to know about the forks.”

Dean’s grip on Baby’s wheel was white, and his last plea for this to end in his favor failed.

He lost the argument. Sam wasn’t comfortable trying to act all fancy,  She had what Sam called a sort of scary pretty face that important people have—She’d flushed and mumbled a thanks, but Dean agreed with Sam’s assessment—and Dean wasn’t allowed to just shout that he couldn’t sleep without Her. 

He fucking couldn’t. He didn’t know how anymore. At least not useful sleep, where he woke up alert and rested the next morning.

Sleep where he woke up panting and swinging at the air came just fine without Her. 

It thrived on the lack of Her, actually. It festered and spread over Dean’s skull, when he didn’t know She was across the mattress, safe and sound.

He somehow made it through the first night. The day had been filled with quick set-up—this resort didn’t seem to be run all that well, given how Sam and Dean didn’t even have to lie that hard about why they needed jobs right now—and recon, and it meant Dean collapsed on the bed barely a moment after he and Sammy returned to the motel. 

But then the morning came. And Dean turned to look and check that She was there and peaceful, because he did that every morning, only to find Her missing. 

He panicked.

Sam said he panicked.

Dean didn’t really remember it at all. There was a blur of ripping up the motel room and grabbing his gun, Alistair’s voice muttering in his ear that he’d find her, Dean’s lovely little Princess, and make Her beg for death ringing in his ears. It didn’t help that all he could really see was an image of Her from Texas, with ragged hair and hollow features and dark stain on Her stomach, red markings imprinted on Her wrists and a skeletal expression on Her face that made Dean want to dice and carve whoever the hell had done that to Her. 

He couldn’t scrape that image from behind his eyes. Sammy had brought him down—reminding him that She was fine, and at the resort, and had literally texted Dean twenty minutes before he woke up that she was going to try and sneak him some good coffee—but he couldn’t fucking relax because all he could see was Her. In pain.

When She’d needed Dean, and he hadn’t been there.

The day was long. Sam stopped by on his breaks, saying that he’d been looking for signs of demons everywhere but found nothing, and She gave by at random points through the day, giving Dean a bright smile from across the bar and making something to the right of his heart fucking howl. 

“Sam slipped me all the vics reservation records.” She said, eyes focused on Her little paper umbrella as Dean cleaned a glass. “And he says he can’t find any demons.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, I heard. You seeing anything?”

“Nothing.”

Dean risked a glance over. Her lip was between Her teeth.

He had to rip his gaze back away.

“We looked at the files last night.” He muttered, trying to pretend he didn’t want to grab Her over the bar and kiss Her until she moaned his name. “None of them had the same last name. Not married couples.”

She paused. “That’s- huh. I was eavesdropping-“

Dean couldn’t stop himself from shooting Her a grin. “That’s pretty freakin’ rude, Princess-“

“Shut up. There were these two old ladies, and they were saying one of those poor girls had such a bright future, too. They mentioned finding the ring on the beach, and, you know, how big and shiny it was.” 

Dean frowned. “The ring?”

“Yep. So not married, but-“

“Engaged.” He muttered, glaring down at his well-polished glass. “Shit, I’ll pass it to Sammy later.”

She nodded, and was gone before Dean could say anything else. . 

Night fell, Dean left Her at the resort, and the nightmares were back in full fucking force. 

This time She was sitting on the edge of the bed in Boston, Dean rose up to kiss Her, and she turned into ugly mold and dirty water, seeping into the bed, then down, down, down into the floor. Vanishing like She’d never been there at all.

That one was going to be reoccurring. Dean had been getting a lot of new nightmares lately, and he’d gotten really good at telling which ones were going to haunt him for a long, long time. 

It kept going like that for a few days. Valentine’s Day itself was creeping up, and they hadn’t found any evidence that it was itself important to the seal, but they hadn’t really found any evidence at all. 

Sammy still hadn’t found any demons, but he had heard rumors from the other staff that some of the girls had been see cheating, hours before their deaths. And after She heard similar rumors, they decided to focus their energy there.

“Maybe it’s like…” Sam had trailed off at the motel table that night, frowning at his laptop. “The seal opens if enough girls cheat on their partners.”

Dean scowled, turning his beer bottle between his hands. She’d smiled at him today, and Her lips had looked glossy, and he couldn’t tell if his head was fuzzy from want or drinking. “That doesn’t make sense, Sammy.”

“No.” Sam had sighed. “It doesn’t.”

Dean’s next nightmare was another frequent flyer. One where Azazel flayed Her and Bobby alive, and but it kept flicking between Azazel and Dad, then it ended with Her broken body in Dean’s hands and Azazel-Dad telling him that it was for his own good.

They still had fucking nothing.

Dean’s job sucked. They found another set of bodies, but he was stuck behind the bar. He had chicks making the fuck-me-eyes at him, but whenever She’d stop by for their briefings, She barely met his gaze. 

It was for their cover. In case something was watching that even Her magic shit couldn’t detect. 

It still made his stupid heart whine. 

And at least Dean got to see Her. Got to chance quick, assessing scans over Her body, just to make sure She was still okay. There was no dried blood on Her lips or caking her nails, and no scratch marks visible on Her arms. Her wrists looked a little odd, but that might be sunburn, or chafing. She was wearing Her jacket, which meant she had Her knife.

It also meant he needed to be worried about Her getting heatstroke.

“You need some ice, sweetheart?” It was an acceptable thing to ask. Sometimes Shirley temples needed ice, and Dean was a bartender.

“No, thank you. If I eat ice, my fingers will get cold. And I won’t be able to hold my pencil.” She gave him a small, pretty smile under Her fluttering lashes. “Thank you, though.”

He couldn’t help himself. “You already thanked me, Princess.”

“Eat my fucking balls.”

Dean had to cough to cover his snort. 

At least he got to hear Her voice in something other than a fantasy or nightmare. 

“I got confirmation about the cheating.” She continued like nothing had happened, although it felt a little more like she was telling Her napkin rather than Dean. “I talked to a woman who was friends with one of the vics, and apparently she’d been talking about leaving her fiancée for some random new guy.”

Dean frowned. He’d been doing that a lot this week. “And this lady is still on her vacation?”

She shrugged, a small smile tugging on Her lips. “Get your money’s worth, I guess.”

That was all he was getting, it seemed. Maybe all She had.

Dean cleared his throat. “So, uh-“

“Text me.” She gave Dean a soft, dark smile that made his knees weak, and slid Her napkin across the counter. 

Those weren’t Her fuck-me eyes. They were a cover, so She could tell him not now, call me later. The napkin didn’t even have one of Her burner phone numbers. It was just a bunch of Enochian, with one specific word-thing repeated over and over.

That night, Dean had one of the older nightmares. A green demon grabbing Her, driving it’s knife right into Her stomach, and Dean unable to move or do anything as She bled out on the motel floor. Then Bobby would burst through the door shouting things that Dean couldn’t hear, but still hurt, before pulling out his shotgun, aiming it at Dean’s head and never pulling the trigger.

The nightmare never ended with Bobby pulling the trigger. Usually they’d just stare at each other for a long time, and Dean would see all his own pain and devastation from Her loss reflected on Bobby’s face, and then—after an eternity—he’d wake up. 

And he’d been right.

Dean made the mistake of falling back asleep after hour, and the kiss-death nightmare returned.

This day was the slowest yet. Dean hadn’t seen Sam since they split up this morning, and he hadn’t seen Her all day. He’d been doing nothing but turning over the case in his head, and he didn’t even have anyone to tell his ideas.

He missed Her. He didn’t know how he was going to go another fucking night without Her, he didn’t know how he’d ever gone a night without Her, no wonder Bobby had told him he looked like shit every single day She’d been gone, he wasn’t fucking sleeping-

“Hey.” She dropped onto the stool across from him, almost conjured—maybe they should revisit that angels thing, because what Dean had been doing did feel a little too close to prayer—and Her hair falling over her eyes. “Anything?”

Her voice was a little shaky, but the bar was loud, so Dean pressed on. “Yeah, uh- I was thinking about how they’ve all been cheaters, right? But it’s only been the chicks.”

“That’s… right.” She paused. She still wouldn’t look Dean in the eyes. “Shit.”

“Yeah, and you know the girl that died second day we were here?” He picked up a new glass. He’d gotten better at pretending to be busy. “All her friends were gossiping about stuff, and one of them said that it was real sad she died a virgin.”

She sat up at that. He had Her attention. “What?”

Her voice was definitely shaky. And a little smaller.

Dean would ask Her about it after. “And you told Sam that those ladies said they couldn’t believe the other mister and missus corpse waited so long, and we thought they were taking about like, engagement-“

“But they were talking about sex.” She muttered. “Fuck.”

“Is that, uh, that’s a good fuck, right?”

“Dean.” She whispered, and he wished She would fucking look at him. “I know what we’re hunting. Fuck, it’s, one shouldn’t even be here but maybe that’s the seal, maybe she gamed it and there aren’t any demons or angels because- but I’ve been- Fuck-“

Dean grunted Her name, throwing cover out the window. “Breathe. You’re fine, you’ve got it, and we’ll gank it and go home-“

“No, Dean, it’s-“ She had started to shake Her head, the movement almost frantic, and She was rubbing her wrists like she was trying to scrub something away. “Fuck- It’s a Pink Boto- I should’ve known, they lure in young women and seduce them, then kill their- Fuck-“

This was getting away from them too fast. Dean damned it further, and grabbed Her face between his hands over the bar. She stopped shaking Her head. Her breathing didn’t slow. “Listen, you’re gonna be fine-“

“I can’t remember, Dean, I- Fuck- I don’t know what to do- I need to know what to do- Why can’t I fucking-“

“Cause you’re tired, Sweetheart, we’re all tired-“

“But I- No-“

“Hey.” Dean made his tone firm, and She froze. “Look at me, Princess. Please.”

She slowly glanced up, and Her eyes were a little glossy. Puffed. Red.

She’d been crying. 

Dean moved faster than he thought.

He tangled his fingers in Her’s, abandoned the bar—it was a shitty bar anyway, and all their whiskey that Dean wasn’t supposed to be drinking tasted like piss—and pulled Her into a small backroom he’d found on one of his breaks. 

“What happened.” He grabbed Her face between his hands, trying to gently angle it so he could find the damage. It was probably on Her body. “Where’s- Shit, I didn’t grab the rubbing alcohol- Stay here and keep it elevated-“

“No- Dean-“ She grabbed his arm before he could move out of the closet, Her eyes wide. “I’m not hurt. It’s just-“ She let out a long, slow breath, and Dean’s heart might have stilled in his chest. “It’s been a long day.”

He nodded slowly. “You gonna tell me about it?”

“I- I can’t.” She whispered. “It’s not that bad, Dean, it’s stupid- I shouldn’t have even, and Sam-“

Dean’s jaw clenched. Sam wouldn’t hurt Her. Even if they lived in a world where Sam didn’t like Her—which he did, the kid fucking adored Her—he cared about Dean too much to hurt Her. They might be fighting about Ruby and the seals, but Sammy was his brother and wouldn’t fucking hurt the only person Dean-

“Sam was trying to help.” She sniffed, and Dean’s fists relaxed. Of course he was. That was good. “But I- Dean, I’m so tired-“

“I know. ” He muttered, letting his hands move back up to frame Her face. “We’re almost done, sweetheart. Then we’ll go home.”

And it was a lie. They both knew it was a lie. They weren’t going to be done. Even if they stopped this seal, there were more. Lilith didn’t seem like the type to roll over and go quietly, and Ruby was still a fucking problem, and She was still something the angels were hunting for insane and cryptic reasons.

Dean hadn’t forgotten what Cas told them. 

Her existence heralded danger. Change. Something big, that they’d have to deal with after this.

But they’d deal with it, and She’d still be here.

And Dean would stay at Her side, all the way down. Her shadow however She wanted it, running his thumb down the bridge of Her nose until She relaxed into his arms. 

“It’ll be okay, Princess.” Dean muttered, and for Her, he’d believe it. 

Even though they had to pull apart, and separate once more. At least they had a name. A better idea of what they were dealing with, so this fight could be done.

But this nightmare was the worst one yet. It was another new one, and Dean didn’t even know what was happening for most of it. There was just a lot of noise, a big crowd, and everything was so fucking colorful. It was like a hurricane, and he was screaming Her name but he couldn’t find Her. She screamed back, but it always echoed around and Dean couldn’t figure out where She was, where did She go, She needed him but he couldn’t find Her-

He burst onto an invisible edge, and started to fall.

Everything was big. Too big. Dean could see a whole lot of the sky, and not much else, and son of a bitch it felt like something was watching him, but She still wasn’t there-

Dean woke up in another cold sweat, and She wasn’t there. 

His phone found it’s away into his hand, and he couldn’t stop staring at the little letters of Her name, a promise on his screen. She was just on the other side of a button. 

It would be dangerous to call Her. Dean couldn’t call Her. He couldn’t risk it.  

He couldn’t take another night of this, and they were always safer together, but the case-

Dean nearly chucked his phone into the wall when it started to buzz. 

It was a good thing he didn’t.

Because She’d called him first.

He’d have to have lost his mind to not answer

“Dean?” Her voice was soft over the phone, and he muttered Her name in response.

“Are you-“

“I’m okay. I, um- Can you…” She trailed off, and for a moment it was only static through the phone. 

“Sweetheart, I need you to talk for me-“

“I don’t want to- This room is really big.”

Dean froze, shooting a quick look over to Sammy. Dead asleep and comfortable. “It is, huh?”

“Yes.” She whispered. “There’s- I have a minibar. It has the chocolate you like. If you’re hungry.” 

“I’m always hungry, Princess.” Dean grinned into the dark. “Parking lot?”

She hummed, Her voice still so soft. “Thank you, De.” 

“I know.”

“Say you’re welcome.”

“Bossy-“

“Dean-“

Dean bit down his snort as he pulled on his shoes. “I’m not saying it. I’m not doing this for the thanks,” He drawled Her name, and he could almost hear Her frown.

“Then what-“

“I’m doing it for you.” Dean didn’t let Her respond. He’d said it for himself, and so She’d know. All She needed to do for him was know. “See you soon.”

They didn’t talk about it, when She grabbed his hand in the parking lot and pulled him into the resort hotel. They didn’t speak at all in the elevator, when She wrapped her arms around his body and pressed Her face to his chest. And when Dean moved Her into bed, dropped on the impossibly soft mattress at Her side, he let out a groan that made Her smile.

He could see it in the dark. 

Same as he could see Her crawl slowly over to his side, drape Herself cautiously over his body, and settle down like the fanciest, smartest, hottest cat in the world.

Dean could be Her shadow like this. Holding Her through the night without a word, drowning in the smell of fruit, and sleeping easy because She was there. With him. 

They never had to talk about it. 

As long as She was with Dean, he could make it into enough.

——————

It’s been a weird week.

You might not have been fully yours for half of it. You’ve been the anxiety of all the guns in Bobby’s house, and the exhaustion of all the roads and bridges you drove over, and the heaviness of the ocean right out your window. The Silver is growing and infecting everything, and you can’t control when it decides to want to become the whole fucking universe, or when it slams back into your body.  For almost every waking moment you’ve been suffocating in it, the fear that it will hurt something and the terror that—as you rub your wrists and try to just focus the Silver, even without pain—something will hurt you.

You really haven’t been yours at all. All the time.

Almost all the time.

You’ve been yours with Dean.

In the Impala at midnight, bumping his knee and shooting you small grins across diner tables, all but carrying you out of the bar when you get exhausted and your brain starts to get fuzzy. Whenever he’s slept next to you in bed, even if he wasn’t touching you.

And you get that.

You wouldn’t touch you either.

It doesn’t matter how much you want Dean to touch you. How you can’t stop thinking about his lips against yours, about how he tasted a little like coffee and the apple you’d made him eat that morning, but he mostly just tasted like Dean. Salt and spice, sort of earthy, and Dean.

He’d been warm above you. You remember him being so fucking warm and safe above you, and he had touched you like he wanted you—with a lot of rough hands on your skin and soft groans and all his weight pressed over you—but he hasn’t touched you since. Not like that. His hand still rests on your lower back when he guides you around, and sometimes you’ll wake up with his fingers tracing over your stomach like he’s worried your long-gone stitches are going to rip, but he hasn’t touched you.

But it really doesn’t fucking matter how much you want to tackle him and kiss him until you’re both just sunken down to the floor, you can’t.

Rule one is this isn’t about you. Kissing Dean would be about you, not him. Rule two is you can’t overindulge. He thought you were dying, and he kissed you, and you didn’t break anything because Dean kissed you, but you’re not allowed to grab that and run with it. He hasn’t kissed you since, and you’re not allowed to kiss him, so now you’re here.

Loving him. Silently.

And fucking hating this stupid fucking case that’s going to make you fucking stab someone.

You shouldn’t have let Dean talk you into this. But you’d missed him, whenever he and Sam went off on a case without you and you were stuck at home. And it’s not about you if Dean asked you to come.

Plus, you were getting what Bobby called hunter fever.

“That’s not a thing.” You’d muttered when he’d brought it up, and he’d scoffed.

“I ain’t just makin’ it up for shits and giggles, kiddo. It’s real and you’ve got it.”

“I feel fine-“

“No, you fuckin’ don’t.” Bobby had given you a flat look. “You been runnin’ around like a headless dog all week-“

“That’s not the saying.”

Bobby had ignored your mumble, pushing on with narrowed eyes. “You’ve started readin’ on the floor again. You only do that when you’re losin’ your damn mind.“

“I am not losing my mind.” You’d snapped. “I’m trying to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now that we know. What if I start the end of the fucking world? What if my thing is like, the sun explodes, or the moon decides it want to be part of earth again, or- Fuck, what if I kill God-“

“God ain’t real,” Bobby had said your name firmly, dropping down at your side. “And if he is, you’re not killin’ him.”

“But Cas said that Lilith was a Magdalene, and she started demons, and- shit, what if I start something worse than demons? What if I start super-demons?”

Bobby had sighed. “You ain’t gonna start super-demons. We don’t know what your thing is gonna be, but we’ll work it out when it gets here-“

“But what if it’s really bad.” You’d whispered. “He called me the Magdalene. That- I don’t know what that means-“

“I don’t either. And it sounds like Cas don’t have that big a clue either.” Bobby had run a hand over his face, letting out a long breath. “You’re not helpin’ anything by worrying about it. Or doin’ this.”

He’d tapped the papers scattered over the table, all covered in Enochian, and you’d swallowed.  

Some of it was just the soul exercise. Trying to map out Bobby’s soul, watching Sam and Dean when they were home and trying to figure out what the hell they were made of. A lot of it was new rituals or attempts to figure out who other Magdalene witches could’ve been—Cas had made it sound like they could be born anywhere in the world, which really didn’t narrow down anything—and an embarrassing amount of it was just trying to figure out how to write Dean’s name. 

Your excuse was that writing something on purpose would help you distinguish Enochian in your head. 

The real reason was that you loved him, and needed at way to show it where no one else could see. 

“When was the last time you went this long without a hunt.” Bobby’s voice had been soft. Cautious. 

And you’d sighed. “I’ve never gone this long. You know that.”

“Hunter fever. You’re gettin’ sick of being still and not doin’ shit, and it’s makin’ all this,” Bobby had tapped one of the notes. “Worse.”

“That’s so fucking stupid.”

“Hey,” Bobby had given you a glare, the expression massively undercut by the small smile he was failing to fight. “Don’t be rude, kiddo. Raised you better than that.”

“No you didn’t-“

“Tried to.” He’d shrugged, moving back to his feet. “Not my fault it didn’t take.”

You’d rolled your eyes, glanced down at your chewed up pencil—another new habit, because apparently if you couldn’t bite yourself you had to bite something—and you might have had hunter fever. Between the notes, and the restless itch. settling over your bones, sinking deep and deeper every second, it makes sense. You’ve always been moving until the pain made you drop. Now you can’t move, and goddamnit Bobby really was right.

Hunter fever. 

That was a stupid name. You’d told Bobby that, and he’d said that if you come up with a better one he’s all ears, but until then he invented it, so he gets naming rights. 

And the hunter fever had only gotten worse, the longer Sam and Dean were on that case. You’d gone to the library and checked out so many history books you’d had to make two trips to get them all in the Firebird. You’ve been watching so many documentaries that Bobby set a three per day rule, and started making you stop between them so you remembered to eat and use the bathroom. You’ve run out of paper to write on, so you’ve switched to pen and started drawing on yourself. It pricks your skin, but it’s better than carving with your knife or nails when the Silver gets set off by nothing and you can’t reign it back in. 

And you’ve started to keep track of all the times Dean could’ve kissed you and didn’t. 

Every night in the Impala. Whenever he’s been a little drunk and you’ve helped him to bed, letting him hang around your body before pouring the rest of his beer down the toilet. When he’s grinned up at you from the couch, and any time he’s called you Princess, and every waking second where you’re in the same room, and he could grab you and do whatever the hell he wanted to you, and you’d be fine with it because it’s Dean.

It’s most likely for the best that he doesn’t. For so many reasons. You’re dangerous. You’re a Magdalene, and knowing is better than not knowing, but you still don’t fucking know a lot. You’re not exactly stable, and neither is Dean, but letting yourself crash into him isn’t going to make him more stable. It would only make the Spiderweb glow, and fully consume you with Gold, and this isn’t about you. It can’t be about you.

And only a few days before you left for Florida—when Dean was still gone and your room was colder and lonelier—Cas appeared in the middle of your room, the only warning of a glowing sigil on the wall.

He’d said your name with a deep, serious tone, and you’d sighed.

“Hi, Cas.”

“You told me we needed to speak again. About my timing.” He glanced around your room, a small frown pulling at his features. “I am here to do that.”

“I don’t care about your timing.” You’d sighed, moving to lie flat on your back. “That was a cover.”

“A cover over what?”

“Over why I needed to talk to you. It’s a phrase.”

“Oh.” You’d craned your neck up, and Cas blinked at you. “What talk are we covering?”

You’d rubbed at your wrists, lying back down. “Can you sit, please?”

“This body can sit, yes-“ Cas had cut himself off, and you’d let him work through that one himself. “You are… asking me to sit.”

“Yep.”

“I do not need to-“

“Cas. Please.”

You’d expected more resistance. Instead he’d just dropped awkwardly at your side, shifting uncomfortably on the edge of the mattress. “This is... better. Thank you.”

You’d hummed an acknowledgment, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I need you to be honest with me.”

“I cannot promise-“

“You have to.” You hadn’t cared if he could hear the desperation in your tone. “Please.”

Cas had paused for a long moment that was tight over your lungs, then sighed. “Alright.”

He’d folded with such little resistance, again.

That didn’t really feel like a good sign.

“Thanks.” You’d mumbled. “Ready?”

You glanced over to see him staring at you, giving a small nod, and you’d taken a long breath.

“You said I could be what you’ve been waiting for.” You’d muttered, running your thumb over your palm as you spoke. “What does that mean.”

Cas had been silent for a long second, only staring, and you’d briefly wondered if this was what it felt like for everyone else, when you’d look at them and see their souls.

It was a little unnerving. 

“When I said that.” He starts, his words slow and measured. “I was not aware of what you were. However, I am… not sure that matters.”

You’d frowned. “What, that I’m a Magdalene? I thought that was the whole thing-“

“You are the Magdalene.” Cas had corrected. “But that is not the… reason, I guess. I was not considering that, when we spoke before.”

“So am I not whatever you’ve been waiting for?”

“No.”

“No, I’m not, or-“

“You are.”

You’d sighed, pushing up on your palms to fully meet his gaze. “Cas. What have you been waiting for.”

“God.”

Maybe you should’ve had a bigger reaction to that. Cas must have noticed the complete neutrality on your face. But even in the safety of your room, where the Sky couldn’t see you, you’d still been able to feel it. The Silver had started to seep out, and you had been the fear of the vines on Bobby’s house, and they had felt the Sky watching them.

So you’d just swallowed, and taken a long, slow breath.

Why not. Between angels and Dean rising from the dead and the Sky, why not have God be a fun, new problem too. 

“There will be consequences. For you being the Magdalene. And I do not think even my superiors fully understand them.” Cas paused, holding your gaze. “From what I have found, you have long been thought to be a lie. A sort of… myth, is what you might call it.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about how my kind aren’t real-“

Cas had shaken his head. “Not the Magdalenes. You.”

“Oh.” You’d swallowed, and Cas had sighed.

“That is what I meant, before. It is not the Magdalene in you. It is you.” He’d said your name, still watching you so carefully. “There is something… holy.”

You’d blinked at him. “About me?”

Cas had nodded. “It is more than an angel grace. Or a soul. I have only seen it once, a long, long time ago.”

You’d had a pretty good sense of where this was going, and you really hadn’t wanted to hear it, but you were so tired of not knowing. Of only ever having more questions. “Where did you see it?”

“The only time I met my father.” Cas had muttered, frowning down at you, and maybe he’d been able to see it then. In the dark of your bedroom, at midnight, there was an impossibly high chance that Cas looked at you and saw something holy. 

That was more terrifying than anything in the world.

You aren’t holy. You’re barely more than a monster. You’re sick and in pain and exhausted, and you don’t know what looking at you and seeing holy means, but you know it can’t be good.

Nothing you ever do leads to something good. 

Dean will never get to know it, but you’re starting to think John really should’ve saved everyone a whole lot of trouble and put a bullet in your brain. You’re making everything harder. You’re not good for anything but hunting, and you can’t even really do that anymore. You’re going to hurt or break or infect something, because that’s what you do, and just because the Darkness is gone doesn’t mean you’re cured. If anything it means you’ve evolved, like a pathogen or bacteria, and now you can press further and further into the world without resistance. 

You’re not good for Dean. John was right about that, too. You just take from him—his time and sleep and attention—and you’re not going to leave because you promised, but one day Dean’s going to find someone better for him, who never makes him yell or cry or worry, and they’re going to demand you’ll leave.

It’s another reason you fucking hate this case. It’s full of sweet, pretty women with no scars and toothy smiles, humming syrupy words to Dean, right in-front of you.

And they have no way of knowing that you even know Dean. And he doesn’t even look at them. 

But one day he will. 

Then you’ll have to live with that. 

For now you can cling to how Dean brushes off the better women in favor of giving you small, cocky grins. You can feel the bright, colorful rush of the Spiderweb glowing under his attention. You’re addicted to it. 

And God, it’s going to kill you when he finds the woman that makes you leave. Who makes Dean happy, but gets uncomfortable about the weird freak who keeps following him around like they don’t know what else to do—you don’t—and then you’ll have to leave, because Dean loves her and not you. 

You already hate her, and it’s not even her fault. She’s not real. She didn’t do anything to you except not be you. You can’t blame her for not having scars littered in odd places across her body, for having the type of softness and experience and ease that Dean deserves. It not her fault she never makes him kill things for her, or forces him to carry her to safety when she loses her mind like some weak fucking problem. 

And she won’t depend on him. Not like you do. She won’t be a parasite or leech that wants to wrap around Dean and drench herself in gold. She’ll be able to sleep without him, because she’ll be kind and normal and stable. She’ll never draw her own blood or vomit from grief, because Dean will settle down in a simple, white-picket life with her and forget all about how he ever even considered wanting you. 

She won’t be a sickness that’s not strong enough to cure itself. She won’t try to get better, just to make everything so much fucking worse. 

Things won’t be complicated with her. She’ll deserve Dean, and all his Gold.

You don’t. You’re not even close to deserving Dean. He never fucking falters, even under all the crushing weight of everything. All the blood on his hands he had to shed, and every worse thing he’s done was because he had to. 

Dean was pushed into everything. It wasn’t his fault that John made him hunt. He made that deal to save Sam because he’s a good, selfless man. He broke in hell because anyone would’ve broken in hell, and he’d still held on for so fucking long before he gave in, because he was strong.

You’re not.

You’re just like this. 

The first day without him is the worst. You’re alone for most of it, save for when Sam finds you and hands you a towel, the vic records folded into them. He mutters that there’s been no sulfur or temperature drops, and you nod, mumbling an agreement.

You see Dean once. Smiling at a one of those better women from behind the bar.

And his grins goes wide and boyish, the moment he spots you, and it sets off fireworks over the Spiderweb, but you can’t get addicted to that. It’s not going to be permanent. 

But it’s not overindulging if Dean’s grinning at you.

So you smile back.

And that night, you try not to think about it too much. About Sam’s words at the bar, when he’d called Dean one of those guys.

You’d known that. You’ve never been bothered by it. He’s never done it in front of you—where it would’ve ripped you in half—and you’d never had a claim over him that could’ve made him stop. It hadn’t mattered that you’d follow him all the way down, or that you love him, or that there’s a whole part of you that just for Dean. You’d never thought there was even a chance of him wanting you like that until that amazing, stupid fucking kiss, so you’d simply forced yourself not to think about it.

It’s all you can think about now. Dean sliding a woman that’s not you his motel card, telling Sam to find somewhere else to hang out for a while, then kissing her. And she’d kiss him back without any fear or anxiety, because she’d know how. She’d have an idea of what could drive him crazy, and he’d fall on his knees for her with only joy on his pretty face, and then they’d-

This is torture. The whole night is fucking torture, because all you can wallow and sink into it the loneliness, and the reminder that Dean deserves better. Someone who will match him.

Not someone he’ll have to take care of and guide through everything. 

The morning breaks, and you’re not sure you slept at all. 

The second day is worse. You don’t see Dean at all, and there are so many fucking people, everywhere,  all the time. You hadn’t realized how fucking horrible that would be until you were in it. There had been a lot of people, on the lich case with Jo. But the only time they’d all been in one, loud place was the last night, and you’d been more focused on Dean. On keeping him safe and alive. You’d almost tethered yourself to him, because as long as he was there and Golden, there hadn’t really been much else to look at. 

But then you’d spent those weeks between cases letting the Silver grow and grow, letting Dean soothe it into something easy you didn’t want to fight, and it seems to have bloomed. 

You’ve lost control. You can’t remember the world ever being like this in your life—so loud and consuming and overwhelming—and you barely been able to handle it when you were a child, and it was just single colors lined with quickly fading imprints. 

Now it’s so much. You’re a little bit everything all the time and there’s so much. Why is there so fucking much. This is worse than the bar, when souls had simply been loud and amplified by the drinks and emotions. At least there you’d still be able to cling to Dean’s Gold, to breathe in the smell of spice and try not to think about how a whole lot of desire was blaring out from all the souls in the bar, directed to where you and Dean had been sitting.

It was a new trick. It had started after the kiss. You can see souls creeping and drifting out of their bodies, trying to latch onto other people. Trying to sink into them. You’d been able to see the redhead’s hot pink, almost bubblegummy-ness aiming over Sam, and it had been fucking sickening and pungent. Not for Sam—all the parts of him that were still purple had been vibrating from the attention—but for you, and you’d needed to get it away from you. 

And this is so much fucking worse. There are so many people, so many souls, and twining and burning and washing over each other, and you can still smell Dean’s spice when he’s not here, and you’re going fucking insane.

They found another body, that morning. You didn’t see it, but Sam did, and he said it was ugly. Looked like they got beat up by the ocean, and that some of the staff were whispering about how the girl had been seen cheating before her death.

“I’ll ask around.” You mumble, pretending to be busy with the coffee while Sam takes an impossibly long time to grab the trash. “There’s this group of ladies who have been trying to talk me into going to the beach with them, and I think they knew the vic.”

Sam nods. “I’ll pass it onto Dean.”

You swallow, and the Spiderweb whines. “Tell him I say hi.”

Sam gives you an odd look and his mouth opens, but you walk away before he can speak. You don’t want to hear it. You know Dean wants you, at least enough to kiss you once, but he hasn’t kissed you since.

Maybe it was horrible for him. It was perfect for you, but he’s not in love with you, and he probably has a higher standard for good kisses. He’s hasn’t changed since the kiss, but he hasn’t tried to do it again. 

There’s a chance he’s waiting for you to kiss him, to make the scores even. He kisses you once and puts it on the table. You kiss him again and then you get to have him.

You don’t deserve to have him. And you’re not allowed to kiss him first. 

“What about you?” One of the women—the ones you’d told Sam about, with long nails you really wish it would be practical for you to have—says your name, and you blink at her.

They’d already confirmed that the girl had cheated, and you’d mostly been tuning out the rest of the gossip after that. It was too colorful, and thinking about Dean was better than drowning in the vastness of the Silver, so you’d just focused on that.

But now you had to participate. You hadn’t been ready to participate.

“What about me?” You ask, throwing on a small, nervous smile and slipping back into your role. Ditzy. You’d told Dean you’d be ditzy. 

“A man.” A second woman—Monica? You’re pretty sure her name is Monica—grins at you, leaning back in her chair. “You have one?”

Pretty green eyes and soft hair and full lips and Gold- “No.”

“Oh, come on.” The first woman—Halle? That sounds right—rolls her eyes. “You’re so pretty, babe, you’ve gotta have someone, or there’s no hope for the rest of us.”

“I- I don’t-“

“Is it a girl?” Monica whispers, leaning forward. “It’s okay, you can tell us. We’re like, super chill about that.”

You sigh. “It’s not a girl.”

The last girl—Karen, that one’s easy to remember—grins at you. “So there is someone?”

“No, it’s not- It’s complicated-“

Halle scoffs. “If it’s complicated, he’s an idiot.”

You scowl at that. “No, he’s not-“

“Ha!” Karen grins, and this was a mistake. You should’ve just eavesdropped on their conversation like a normal person. “There is someone! What’s his name?”

“I- I’m not-“ You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to find a way out. “It’s really complicated. There’s like, a lot of moving parts, and we’ve known each other a really long time-“

“Awww.” Monica gives you a sweet smile. “Childhood friends? That’s so cute!”

“No- It’s more-“ You choke on the word complicated. “I have to go.”

Halle shakes her head as you stand up. “No, wait, we’re sorry, you’re just cool and we thought there had to be someone-“

She’s still talking. Still apologizing. 

But she grabbed your wrist to stop you from leaving. Right where Ketch had tied you up. Right where the lich grabbed you. 

You can’t breathe. The Silver is bursting and burning through the world because no, no, you’re so tired and it hurts and no-

Something shatters, an impossibly large wave sweeps over half the beach, and the wind picks up, ripping through the air like you’re at the top of a mountain.

The women are shrieking in fear, because this shouldn’t be happening, and you run. Not forever. Just until you’re back in your room, staring at your phone and forcing yourself not to call Dean. 

Half of that had been you. The shattering and wave had been you.

The wind had been the Sky. It had been watching. And the cold had bitten your skin, and it had been more of a warning to you than a defense for you. 

And you’re falling apart. You miss Dean, and it’s worse than when he’d been on a case, and you’d been at Bobby’s. At least you’d been a little useful, there. At least you’d had company, and could think about things that were better women, touching Dean in the dark while you were alone in bed. 

Here, you’re useless. You can’t figure out what the hell you’re supposed to be hunting—which is supposed—to be something you’re good at—because it’s all so loud and colorful and you’re not sleeping, and you miss Dean.

Maybe he’s spending this night with another better woman, again. There are plenty to choose from, this luxury resort filled with people to know how to have something and not infect it. And it’s almost Valentine’s day, so they’ll want company, and anyone—whether they can see the Gold or not—should want Dean. Will want Dean. 

You torture yourself with that for another night. The idea of Dean in bed with someone else, touching someone else, kissing them the same way he’d kissed you, but this time they go further, and then the next day you’ll see that the rivers of silver had been painted over with another color.

Embedded. Cas had said you were embedded in Dean, and that couldn’t go away easy, but what if it does. What if only a gentle, knowing touch cures Dean of you forever, and it’s that easy, and he leaves. 

You’d promised you’d stay, but he didn’t. You both said all the way down, but that was before he kissed you. 

It would be smart to want to take it back. To go back to never thinking about that, because you didn’t think it was an option. To not be getting withdrawals from something you never even fucking had, not really.

You know that.

Knowing never helped.

And at least you still have the Gold lingering on your lips. It’s never been there before, and it makes you feel a little like that holy thing Cas had called you. 

You really are fucking useless. Staring at mirrors and trying to write Dean’s name in Enochian and imaging that he’ll burst through your door and sweep you away. 

It doesn’t help that the wrist thing is looking like it’s here to stay.

The next morning, Sam pulls you into an abandoned room for a meeting.

But he grabs you by the wrist.

And you can’t stop yourself from swinging.

Blind, frantic punches thrown into the air, uncoordinated from exhaustion and landing on nothing, someone is shouting your name but there’s a lot of red in them—red like blood, red like poison—and the fists aren’t enough so you grab your knife and start slashing-

Sam shouts your name, and the blur fade enough for you to know it’s Sam, but then he grabs your wrist to stop the fall of your knife, and the Silver explodes.

There’s a crash, and a ringing in your ears, and-

“Holy- Ow.” Sam stumbles up from the floor, his hands raised in the air and the wall a little dented behind him. “What the hell was that?”

You blink at him, the blur fading, and all that’s in its wake is pain. Pain and a gnawing fucking guilt, because you hurt Sam, why the fuck did you hurt Sam, what’s wrong with you and why can’t you control this without trying to kill yourself-

Sam frowns at you, something softening in his gaze. You don’t deserve how gently he says your name. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-“ You swallow, drawing yourself up tall and forcing your voice to stay even. “I’m sorry. You startled me. Is your back-“

“It’s fine. I mean, it hurts, but I’ve have worse.” Sam pauses. “Are you sure-“

“What do you need, Sam.”

He stares at you and—in a small mercy—doesn’t push it. Whatever Sam can see on your face, he’s able to work out that now is not the time to talk about how he just touched you, and you tried to kill him. 

Sam only sighs, and moves on. 

“I think we’re dealing with some sort of sex demon.” He says, shuffling back to your side. “All the vics have been cheating, but every single thing I’ve heard about them makes it sound like they were really in love. There has to be some kind of manipulation going on.”

You nod slowly, letting out a long breath. “How do you know they were really in love? Just online snooping?”

“They did all just get engaged. And I mean, people make mistakes with that sometimes, but it’s usually a sign of… you know.” Sam shrugs. “A future. Together.”

“Okay.” You frown at the air. “You pass it onto Dean, and I’ll keep looking for what the seal actually is, so we can stop it.”

Sam shakes his head. “I, uh- I’ve actually got the seal, too. Bobby called me.”

“Oh.”

“He would’ve called you.” Sam rubs at the back of his neck, and suddenly the air is wired. “But this is- Um, it’s sort of better to have in person.”

You narrow your eyes. He’s being weird. “Sam. What’s the seal.”

“Bobby thinks.” Sam won’t meet your eyes. “Based on some old texts that be found, some of yours, actually-“

“Samuel-“

“It’s making a true love stray.” Sam mumbles, his gaze locked on the floor. “And Bobby’s theory for the murders that none of them have been a true love, so after they strayed, they got.” Sam winces. “You know.”

“Yeah, okay. That’s- It makes sense.” You pause. “Why does that need to be said in person?”

Sam glances up, something cautious in his eyes. “Because you and Dean need to be careful.”

The world stills a little, like a heart murmur, but you must have just heard him wrong. “What.”

“You and Dean.” Sam mumbles. “Any two people with, um, strong emotions are in danger.”

“Sam.” You keep your words slow and careful. You can’t really hear them over the ringing in your ears. “They’ve been targeting engaged couples. Dean and I are-“

“You’re really obvious!” Sam almost shouts, and you flinch like he’d stabbed you.

“No.” You whisper, shaking your head, wrapping your arms around your stomach, and the Silver isn’t even growing. This isn’t a danger to it. 

It should be. You’re a danger to Dean.

“Sam, we’re just- I’ve told you-“

“Jo told me about the kiss.” Sam’s voice is gentle. You’re going to claw out your own eyes. “And I know you guys are dealing with other things, but you’re not just friends. And I- I’m sorry,” he mutters your name, and a little bile creeps up your throat. “But I knew a long time before that. You guys are obvious, and I’m not trying to tell you want to, you know, do about it. But you have to be careful.”

No. You don’t. Dean doesn’t love you, but you’ve never even looked anywhere but him and the Gold and that deep life in his eyes, so not only is Sam wrong, he’s cruel.

Dean doesn’t want you like that, and if he loves you, it’s not the truest love. It can’t be. You’re you, and you’re a danger, and you’ve never brought him anything but extra work, screams of his name, and your own tears for him to eat. 

You can’t live on tear and names. You could—you could conquer the world if Dean offered you tear and your name from his lips—but nobody sane and easy can. Dean will live off of good food from a better woman.

And you’ll die with the Sky watching you, alone in that high, cold, lonely place it had promised you when you were young.

“Sam.” You whisper, your hand wrapping around your throat on an old instinct, but the Silver still dormant in your body, because it’s lined with the Spiderweb, and the Spiderweb loves the idea of Dean’s love. “Please don’t say that.”

He says your name, and it’s gentle again. You think you’re choking on the air.

“Don’t-“

“I’m really not trying to push you guys to do anything.” Sam’s voice is almost desperate. “I just- I can’t lose you both again. This demon is taking the couples-“

You make a weak sobbing sound, and Sam catches his mistake.

“Pairs, it’s taking the pairs and if you both go, I don’t know- Shit-“ Sam pleas your name, moving to reach for you, and you take a step back.

“I- I’m going to go tell Dean.” Your voice is strained, and you don’t care about the irony of your own words. “Bye.”

You’d promised Dean you wouldn’t run. 

You haven’t promised Sam fucking shit.

And you were running to Dean. You didn’t care if that made you a hypocrite, or liar, or a whore. You needed to see him, because it made the Silver feel good, and the world manage because you could cling to Dean’s Gold, and know it was going to be okay.

Then you break twice. Once at the bar, when you were supposed to be working, but Dean needed to calm you down because it was all too fucking much and you’re useless. Then again when you caved and called him, just to hear his voice—overindulging—and ended with him wrapped around you in bed.

You’d slept. Well. Easily. And Dean looks peaceful, in the shifting light of dawn, starting to break through the windows. 

He’s perfect. The newer, stronger Gold seems like molten lava in the morning light, but it’s still not fire. And it’s moving rapidly through his body like air, but it’s not. And there a power to it like water, and strength to it like earth, but it’s never enough of one and far too much of the others for you to pin it down.

You don’t really need to pin it down. 

It’s Dean.

You love him all the same.

He tries to hold onto you, when you twist to get out of bed. He makes a cute, disgruntled sound, and tugs you right back into his body before you know what’s happening.

It takes ten minutes for you to slowly swap yourself with one of the pillows. And you don’t want to leave—it might be a dream, to just stay where Dean is holding you for the rest of your life—but you need to think. And you can’t do that when a big, warm hand is spread over your stomach again, and Dean’s breath is hot on your neck.

Your thoughts had kicked back into gear, after Dean calmed you down yesterday. And you’d made some connections.

Connections you’re going to have to tell Sam and Dean about, because they mean you’re good. You can gank the Boto Monster and fuck off. Go home. You don’t even have a seal to deal with.

And you’re going to have to find a way to convince them of that without the truth.

Because under no fucking circumstances can you actually say the truth.

Dean had said the first vic was a virgin, and it had hit you in small, fragmented pieces you’d strung together in the hours after.

Sam had been wrong about the sex demon. This has to be a Pink Boto. You’d hunted one, while you were in Brazil, and this is their exact MO. Make a young, virgin woman cheat on her partner. Then kill them both, with symptoms similar to drowning. You’d remember how to spot one, too. They’d be in a human form of their choice, designed to lure the woman in, but they’d always wear a hat. Their true forms were pink dolphins—botos—and they could shift however they wanted, but they could never get rid of their, so they’d have to cover it. With a hat.

And that was great. Simple. 

It also wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that Lilith brought the boto here, to make the true love stray.

True. Not pure. 

The seal won’t care about any virgins. But the boto will. It will target them, smell it on them, fucking see it. The same way that they can sense when humans have emotional bonds, so they can sniff out couples.

At least, that was how it had been explained to you, in Brazil. 

It was how they’d assured you.

You were single. 

You wouldn’t be a target.

And this is where Sam was right. You and Dean were in danger. You were the target. Lilith brought the boto here because she needs the seal broken, and she knows about your love for Dean, and she probably fucking knows about you. The other deaths haven’t been about the seal. It’s just been the boto feeding. You and Dean have been the endgame from the start.

The good news, you decide as you sit alone on the beach, your toe right on the edge of the water as the sun climbs into the sky, is that Lilith is fucked. You’ve really never even thought about anyone but Dean. Not like that. You missed the window of experimentation in your teens, met Dean at eighteen, and then there was just no fucking point to anyone else. It was Dean. It’s always been Dean. All the way down.

It’s not saving yourself, because that makes you sound fucking pathetic, like a midwestern church girl who won’t show Her ankles because Jesus will get mad. You just don’t think about it, if it’s not Dean. And it’s not like anyone else has ever really looked at you.

That was your first kiss. 

You are never going to fucking tell Dean that.

And you’re staring down at the sand—at the water slowly climbing over your ankles—when you hear him clear his throat behind you. “Hey, sweetheart. I’ve been looking for you.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, not looking up from the sand. “I should’ve texted. I just needed to- you know.”

“Yeah. I do.” You hear the sand shift at your side. He’s sitting down. “Just got worried. I mean, woke up. You weren’t there. Damn near ripped up the room looking for you.”

That gets a small smile. “You think I was going to be under the couch, Deano?”

“No. I’m just saying I was worried. Don’t run off like that.”

There’s a long, heavy silence, and something is wrong. The air is wired and tense, and it’s never like that with Dean. And the Silver isn’t exploding, but it’s not soothed. 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters suddenly, and it really sounds like Dean, but you’re still staring at the sand. “I just got worried, you know? You shouldn’t be out here, the sun is barely even up.”

Dean would be worried. But he wouldn’t say it like… that. 

You suddenly really don’t want to look at him. He’s rubbing strong circles on your back but they’re only making your breathing labored. He’s right at your side, but you don’t feel any of Dean’s gravity.

But it sounds like Dean.

And you’re frozen. 

“Don’t be mad at me.” Dean’s voice hums, close to your ear, and you squeeze your eyes shut. You feel fucking sick. “You know I love you, baby. Let’s go back to bed.”

Baby.

Dean only calls his car Baby. 

But that was his voice. Calling you Baby. It’s echoing around in your head, and you can’t fucking breathe, and you have to open your eyes.

It looks like Dean, too. Pretty features and a boyish grin and green eyes, it’s skin a little more tanned, but only in a way that’s noticeable to someone who’s insane and in love with him.

You don’t need to rip its stupid baseball cap to know it’s not Dean.

It’s not Golden.

And you can still hear it, as you explode.

Baby. You know I love you, baby.

You’re scrambling back, as the Silver presses into the boto. And it not killing it. Not simply sucking up its life and throwing its soul into wherever monsters go after they die.

You’re eliminating it. The same way you’ve eliminated Hell’s Assassin’s.

But you’ve never done it to something with a functioning soul again. A soul you can see. Sense.

Hear.

Those aren’t the screams of the boto, when it’s turned into pure fucking nothing. 

It’s the soul. Begging you for mercy.

Baby.

There’s a last, weak sound, and then the boto is gone.

You fall flat on your back, and stare at the Sky.

It stares back. 

You can’t fucking breathe. The tide is starting to rise, but you can’t fucking move, and you can’t tell what salt is your own tears and what’s the ocean.

And the Sky is just fucking watching.

Dean roars your name, somewhere down the beach. And that’s how your Dean roars your name, and the Spiderweb is glowing, and he’s Golden when he appears over you like some sort of knight, sent to save you from the monster in the water.

You’re the monster in the water. If Dean’s a hero—and he is—he should let you fucking drown.

But he doesn’t. He’s perfect, so he scoops you into his arms with only a grunt and carries you away from the beach. 

When you look over his shoulder, there’s not even a fucking body. It’s like the boto never even existed at all.

“You’re okay.” Dean’s muttering in your ear as he sets you down somewhere with flowers and a small marble waterfall. “Son of a bitch, Princess, you can’t just fucking disappear. I- You weren’t there and I fucking thought- Godamnit-“

Dean grabs your face between his hands, starting to wipe the linger saltwater from your cheeks. You’re blinking at him. In a firm pattern on once, over and over, trying to tell him everything is wrong. But he’s too focused on checking you for injury to see. And that’s how your Dean would be worried. 

Touching you so carefully while shouting at you with a distress you can hear.

You sob before you can stop yourself, and Dean’s eyes widen.

“Fuck, wait-“ He pulls you right back against his body, walking backwards until his back is pressed to a white-brick wall, and you’re still held in his arms.

He wants to be able to see anything coming. He’s trying to keep you safe.

Your tears start to flow.

“No- shit- Don’t cry, Princess, you’re okay, it’s okay, you’re- Fuck-“

Dean’s thumb starts to run down the bridge of your nose, over and over until you’re almost slumped against him. 

It’s peaceful here. Against Dean. Warm and safe. Home. 

And exhaustion is already starting to pull you down, but you can still hear it.

Baby.

“Talk,” Dean mutters your name, brushing away the hair that’s been stuck to your brow. “Shit, I- I need you to talk, I can’t fucking do anything if you don’t tell me what happened, why the hell were you drowning yourself-“

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, and Dean stares at you.

He thinks you’re sorry because of the vanishing act and state he’d found you in.

He’s wrong.

You need to know. Just in case this is a more sophisticated trick, or a dream, or the last chance you ever get. Just in case the angels swoop down and try to take you, or the earth opens up and Dean’s dragged back to Hell, you need to know. It’s selfish and unforgivable, but you need it. You need Dean. 

Baby. I love you, baby.

“You’re-“

Dean words are cut off as your hands fist in his shirt, and you yank him down into a kiss. 

He responds immediately. Dean deepens the kiss in half a second, pulling you somehow closer. Like there wasn’t ever a question of if he would.

And you know.

But you don’t hate yourself enough to pull away.

This isn’t like the first kiss. You’d both been moving through that like you were afraid it would be ripped away at any moment. 

Now you’re both moving like you know it’s going to be ripped away, and you refuse to waste one fucking second.

It’s violent. Heavy and hot and wet, open-mouthed with Dean’s tongue down your throat and his lip between your teeth. Your nails scratch at his back and shoulders as he flips you around, pinning you between his body and the wall. And he’s still touching you so carefully—like he’s afraid you’ll break—but there’s no hesitation when one hand grips your waist hard enough to bruise, before trailing down and under your shirt-

A million fucking sparks set off when Dean’s knuckles touch the bare skin of your hips. Your back arches as he groans and massages your waist, and you’ve stared to grind up into him without thought, because he’s Golden and made of gravity and you want him to devour you. To touch you wherever he wants until you’re painted in Gold, to kiss you until you’re just putty like this, forever. Tended to and touched and without any fucking pain, there’s no fucking pain because Dean’s too good to have pain. 

There can’t be pain when you’re safe against his body. Nothing can exist but Dean kneading at your skin under your shirt, and moaning your name against your lips when you press against something big and hard, poking right at your hip-

Dean pulls away with a grunt, both of you gasping for breath, and your brow drops to his shoulder.

He just smells like spice, now. And you can taste it, too. 

You love him. 

You’re not allowed to say it.

So instead you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him like there won’t be any consequences. Any prices to be paid.

There will be.

You’ll live with them.

“Dean?” You whisper in his ear, and his hum of response rolls through your whole body. “I- I took care of it. Can we please go home?”

You’re ready for him to push back. To ask what took care of it means, and tell you that you need to be sure, and consult Sam, and you can sit the rest of it out, but you can’t leave just yet.

Instead Dean just sighs, running his fingers through your hair, and nods.

“We can do whatever you want, Princess.”

You want him. You’ve only ever wanted Dean.

But it doesn’t matter what you want. 

You’ll have whatever the fuck Dean offers you. 

And if it’s love, you’ll rip the Sky in half to keep it.

End Note: Okay so I made her a virgin because let’s be so fr, she’s impressively oblivious about that stuff, AND she was not about to get laid when big emotions made things blow up. We’re lucky Dean didn’t kiss her when she was still suppressing her powers. Girlie would’ve blown up the moon about it.

Thank you so so so much for reading!! If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[nomaishuttle]

on a semi related note there r like 2 specific times i remember expecting one of my safe foods and getting something entirely different and being SO insanely upset abt it even though the thing i got still tasted good

[cyber333angel]

Hey there cutie I’m wondering if you could write a Abby taking readers virginity blurb or head cannons or whatever I love your writing and how you write her💗💗💗

DRINK WATER

abby herself wouldn’t be a virgin she’s actually quite experienced but it would be her first time strapping someone and she was definitely hooked when the two of you did it.

you would have begged her to go further than just her fingers and her mouth, being so happy when she gives in and tries to make it a special experience for you. getting all the things that were needed ready for you on the bed. abby would take it reeeally slow, like fingering you and eating you out while you whine about wanting her to put it in. the strap would already be on her waist while she’s eating you out in fact it’s the reason why your so impatient, you can see what you want but abby won’t let you have it until she thinks your ready.

she just teases you, sucking on your nipples that are spilled out of your bra, her thick fingers in your cunt spreading you out while she whispers to you. “ abs just put it in already! please..” your hips are squirming under her as she smiles, “put what in baby?” grinning at you like it’s funny and laughing when you start to pout. “don’t tease..” while she entertains you she places your legs on her shoulders, sliding her fingers sensually up your thighs while she prods the silicone against your cunt. “mm’please abs..” you say reaching for her arm or anything to get her to stop the ache between your legs.

“i know sweet girl, gonna give you what you want.” spreading you apart more to let a glob of spit roll down your pussy, connecting at the spot where her dick is kissing your messy entrance. she places her large hand on the pudge of your tummy looking at you with reassurance, “you ready?” and she knows your ready, more than ready she just loves to see you beg. “yes! abby I need you..” your impatient. lowering your hips down closer to her dick until the tip of her stretches out your hole, mewling at your girlfriend with the cutest face as your eyes squeeze shut. “your such a needy baby.” she says with a chuckle, pushing the rest of her length into your pussy with the tone of her soft voice, “shhh oh I know princess, feels good huh? takin all of me first try my good girl.”

somehow, the sympathetic praise made it so much easier to take the current 5 inches you were being given, another 3 to go with you already losing your mind spread out in the bed. it didn’t take long for you to be on the verge of cumming, the way abby flowed her hips against yours and hit those sweet spots she usually finds with her tongue, you were already familiarized with this saccharine pleasure.“oh abby..mn think im gonna c-cum!” your sweaty skin slapping against each other doesn’t slow down as abby rubs your cheek with one gentle hand, other hand still placed on your hip for control. “yeah baby? cum for me, look so pretty with you nice nd full of me.”

it’s like her words were a command, abby only having to thrust into you roughly a few more times to make you cum, with the help of her fingers rubbing at your clit. “that’s it, atta girl..” moving her digits in a circular motion that she always does has you creaming on her cock, a ring almost at the base of it where it shows how much you took. “feels so’good abs!” you cry and she nods, kissing the crook of your neck and working her way up to your face. “can see that you love it pretty girl, legs are shaking like crazy.” making you both break out in laughter.

your first time with abby was so sweet and gentle, it felt so natural between the two of you and she never rushed you into anything too intense that she thought you couldn’t handle. and when she pulled the strap out of you, you could see how much of it you actually took and it wasn’t all of it so she told you while you were laying in bed with the snack she gave you and the blanket she rolled you in that, “we’ll have to train you to get all the way to the bottom next time huh?” sigh >.<

[inkskinned]

im having a particularly terrible night with urges and imagery that i dont know how to handle. i gave in to some things. held back on some others. but im barely holding on, dear internet stranger.

you do not owe me your time or your words.. but if you could write some hope into existence for me.. i would be unendingly grateful to you.

please. tell me how you do it. tell me how you survive. because im not so sure i can get through the fifteen days it'll take to get to my seventeenth birthday.

could you please give me something to place my faith in? i dont think the universe is watching out for me anymore.

i don't usually answer these, because i am not a professional, and you deserve professional help. when i was 17 i was terrified of the idea of professional help, because my household was extremely unsafe, and made it clear that if i ever chose to get help, i would be punished for it.

i hope this is not your case. i hope that you can call someone, and they can take you where you should go.

but i will give you the advice that i wish i got, when i couldn't get help at 17, when i was so bad that years later, i literally don't-know-how-i-survived it: what you want is peace, not death. your brain is sick. it has romanticized an ending where there are no consequences. where effort isn't necessary. where you can just... forget.

you want peace. that is a normal, human thing to want. maybe it feels more like you want quiet. or just... to take a break for a second.

here is what i will say: to end yourself means you never get to experience what it's like to actually be happy. i thought i knew what it was like, and i was bitter about it. i'd say - i've been happy, it's not worth it, because i didn't know what i was missing. i thought that happiness meant having a partner or having a job or money or a college degree. it sounded like effort. it sounded like something that had to happen to me.

for the first time in my life, just this week, i was able to go to a concert and just-enjoy-it. no liquor, no drugs. just stomping my feet and getting caught up in it. i didn't feel nervous or self-conscious or overwhelmed. i just had a good time. these days have a lot of these firsts for me - it is the first time i can eat cake without crying. it is the first time i can be around an exacto blade without supervision. it is the first time i have too many people to call when i am crying.

i can't tell you where you'll run into happiness, only that, for me, it started once i was out of that fucking house. it started once i figured out where the pain was coming from. once i figured out that i was not possessed, something medical was wrong with me. that i am not stupid or lazy, i have depression and adhd. the first few years were difficult. at 19, during my efforts to recover, i actually got worse by a considerable margin. and then, with time and patience - i got better.

happiness doesn't feel like what you think it will. in movies it's so golden and all-encompassing. but it doesn't fly into your hands when you buy your first car nor does it arrive in the arms of a partner nor does it require passing your classes. happiness came to me on a tuesday in the form of a red-winged blackbird, and i looked at her, and she looked at me, and i said - oh. the whole world suddenly filled itself in with color. like i had been forever-asleep. like every corner of every room was suddenly glistening.

it ended quickly, back then. it just stopped in to check in on me. but it was enough - this thing i had never experienced, but that i knew (logically) could happen. before that, i was only staying because it would make my mom sad if i died. that was my only reason. and then the happiness came, so strange and brilliant and lovely that for years i couldn't even look at it directly.

these days, things are so different. life is so much easier. i don't wish for death because so much of what i have is already at peace. my boss understands when i need a mental health day. people in general are less prone to high school drama. entire communities hold my hand and have my number. i have a car and a dog and a little apartment garden and candles on all available surfaces and today i bought myself a little cake just-to-celebrate-nothing. my body is my own and we are both dancing.

there are so many things i've gotten to taste in the last 10 years. i know, for you, that is an eon, because it's more than half of your life. but if it helps? in the 5 years between 17-21: i filled myself with laughter and love. i got to be a lead in a ballet and got my first tattoo and then my second and pierced my ears the way i'd wanted to (one of them professionally the other over a hot stove with a potato) and i discovered hozier is my favorite singer (i know. he was new back then) and i got my first real job and my first real paycheck and i hadn't ever been seen as smart but then i started to actually treat my adhd as a condition rather than a burden and people started saying you're like the smartest person in the room and my best friend met her husband who i will one day stand next to as maid of honor when he is her groom and i got to help people and make a stupid blog called "inkskinned" and find out that writing is actually my passion and that maybe i'm actually kind of good at it if i just practice and i got to meet my parents' dog (his name is kaiju) and i slept on couches and kissed people and tried new things and learned how to breathe without feeling my chest tighten and that peace is here, on this planet, that peace echoes everywhere, it is in my hair and my homework and my houseplants, it is quiet and divine and mine because i fought for it and i built it and yes i lost hair over it but holy shit the whole world feels like it is shifted through a sunbeam

recently someone asked me if i could go back in time to 6th grade, with all the knowledge i have now, would i? and without thinking, i barked absolutely not. i know i should say it's because i wouldn't want to risk losing any of this stuff - but really it's because i would never survive being a teenager again. it sounds incredibly lame and impossible, fake - but being a teenager was the hardest thing i ever did. i had no voice, no control, only fear and hatred.

but i did survive it. nothing about me is special. nothing about me is stronger than you or better prepared or more efficient. i didn't survive it perfectly. i made a lot of mistakes and lost a lot of friends and harmed myself in ways that i'm still recovering from. but i did survive it. and there is a part of me looking at you in the past and saying - i'm you in the future.

and holy shit. every day. every goddamn day i'm glad we survived to see the rest of it. because you hit 18 and everything changes. like, everything. and holy shit, it is infinitely worth it.

[girl-lostconnection]

unsweetened lemonade anon here again! (my anon tag can be 🍓, if you do those!) i just have so many ideas!! sorry for spamming you 😣

like they start dating at the beginning of their senior year (or the british equivalent ?) and everyone is like… “wot.” because they’re used to these two being so small, defensive and awkward. but nerd!reader has grown into herself and starts recycling her clothes to make them nicer, and punk!simon is working at a macca’s part time and making a bit of money, and he starts thrifting for himself and finding her secondhand jewelry. omg you’ve actually created a monster with this AU (me.)

AGHHHH they’re like two mangy dogs finally getting adopted and bathed and taken care of 🥹 and nerd!reader writes her own book and the first page says

“to that boy from school. i wish you well.” and simon keeps that damn book with him always. omg i’m so sorry but it’s so cute to meeeee

Sure thing, 🍓 anon! And don’t apologise, im so happy to talk about these two and you just give me another opportunity to do so. So feel free to hop on and share whatever comes to your head.

Also

Anon, what have you done. What have you done, anon, im tearing up at these two. And the book???? Stop, im gonna full on cry.

God, the way Simon would TREASURE it. The way he’d hold onto it, bringing it with him everywhere and reading it and keeping it as close to himself as possible.

But if we push my tears aside for one sec, imagine tall awkwardly wide and lanky Simon bringing Nerd!Reader second hand jewellery like he’s bringing them the game from his hunt.

The way he’d loom close by the first time he does buy them something because it’s really nothing special and he found it at the tiny thrift store and it’s just a small thing. Nothing flashy or expensive, probably a bracelet with charms he thought would look nicely on them.

(He’s too embarrassed to buy them a ring because he’s definitely gonna think too much about it and end up making them a weird proposal. He then would proceed to crawl away and roll under his bed, asking the ground to swallow him (im sorry))

And Simon who’s working as a butcher apprentice and finally starts eating a little bit better because his boss sees the way this big lad comes into work and everyone in the neighbourhood know of Simon’s dad so he just starts writing off some things here and there.

Nothing much because Simon is prideful and allergic to anyone taking pity on him and he would rather starve, but here it seems harmless and it’s just small things here and there. So he takes them and he proudly brings them to Reader the first time it happens.

The same way dogs/cats would bring you a small animal they caught, literally smirking with how satisfied he is. It doesn’t dawn on him until they ask that…he has no idea what to do with it. Simon doesn’t know how to cook meat — his mom usually did it. But with the way Riley-senior looms around the house he doesn’t want to bring it home.

So Reader offers to cook it at their place and later just packs it up carefully in neat containers and gives Simon the bag to bring it home to his mom and Tommy. So they can all eat without Simon’s dad finding out about the meat.

God, im gonna go spin in my chair and come back with something more coherent.

Wait for me, anon, im gonna bring you something decent, you brought me such good idea seeds I could grow fanfic sequoia in three days with it.

[miruac]

dating kozume kenma headcanons - part 2

masterlist

navigation

warnings: not proofread, movie and timeskip spoilers, very self indulgent

a/n: EHEHEHEHEH I LOVE MY INTROVERTED GAMER BABY | word vomit. this is just pure word vomit.

during nationals when they were away, kenma always texted you before and after a game(kinda shocking since he's dry asl)

he would be a little clingy, especially when he was sleepy since he had no filter then

but he literally like slept so late there...(THAT ONE SCENE OF HIM WAKING UP WITH BEDHEAD <3)

before their match with karasuno, he sent you a gif of a happy dancing cat(it was him trying to convey emotion)

after the match, he sent you a text that read 'i guess i'm coming home'

which made you happy he was coming back, but also sad that they lost

right when they got back home, you went over to his house to give him some congratulatory apple pie and cuddles

obviously he got a fever and was literally bedridden for a couple of days, so you had to wait a little while before seeing the poor boy

but when you did, he was still a little sick so he just clung onto you(

when he's sleepy, i headcanon he likes his hair to be played with and when you do it he just falls asleep

timeskip to the future, and its been like what, 7 years? you've moved in with him into his house, and it's pretty casual at this point

he always comes to bed late since he stays up on stream, and he ends up waking up so late

but before you go to bed, he's almost always taking a break from his stream to kiss you goodnight

sometimes if you're feeling clingy AND sleepy, he'll let you sit on his lap and sleep there while he's on stream

guys everyone writes kenma as if he's someone who's lazy as hell, and cant cook

BUT NOT ME!!! i know kenma can cook because he isn't that self-negligent, like if he moved out by himself then surely he knows how to somewhat provide for himself

he doesn't cook much because he doesn't like how much effort it takes, but when he cooks its kinda fire

you guys alternate, but its usually you cooking

i know he doesn't eat much canonly but loves seeing you in the kitchen its so domestic

when you catch him staring his lil bitch ass smirks at you and is like 'you look good in my kitchen.'

EPHASIS ON "MY KITCHEN" LIKE AODJSAOLDJASJDL

guys stop he's so cute when hes posessive

SPEAKING OF POSESSIVENESS OMG

ok now kenma's posessiveness varies from day to day

if he sees another guy with you, he doesn't rage immediately but when he sees them holding you in a way how he does? that's when he slides between you guys and takes you back

but also sometimes when you're about to go out in revealing clothes, he gets all pouty and clingy

he doesn't let go of you and looks up you with such pleading eyes(im so weak. im so weak for him omg)

guys he ALWAYS goes to pick you up himself

most likely he's going to bed by the time youre done, he can spare a couple minutes getting you

and plus i know he may not act like it, but your safety is like one of his top priorities

especially since you're the partner of a famous streamer, he does his best to make you comfortable

whether that's having you sit out of frame when he's on stream, or keeping you hidden

the media's really mean, and he'd do anything to prevent you from seeing or witnessing something hurtful just because you're dating him

he takes all the necessary precautions he knows of, and always tries to keep your identity anonymous

but when you felt comfortable enough, you slowly started to creep into his streams

at first it would just be a hand popping into frame, to you literally napping on his lap while he streamed

he told his fans that he was taken before and they thought he was lying, but since they've seen you they're amazed that he actually pulled

overall, his audience loves you and they literally see how kenma lights up when he looks at you

like his eyes are so soft and glassy and hazed with love(im gonna cry. why isn't he real. please i want him so bad)

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

2nd a/n: guys this is literally not proofread this is such shit work like im not even processing these thoughts in my brain IM LITERALLY JUST WORD VOMITTING RN ok im done thank you for listening to my ted talk GOODNIGHT

[ashton-sano]

Blue Lock Characters in: Being Jealous

(Characters Inclu.: Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Seishiro Nagi, Reo Mikage, Chigiri Hyoma)

Trying to get into the habit of posting more often, so have these headcanons. A Bit short but I hope you enjoy

Yoichi Isagi

-Somehow the worst one on this list

-He's likely to give the nastiest glare to whoever you're wasting your time with (of course when you arent looking)

-Post Blue lock Isagi is kinda the same, Just a lot less subtle. curses and maybe a fight or two if its Kaiser. 

"That blonde asshole has no place talking to you, you're mine.."

-Don't be alarmed, he's unlikely to take his jealously out on you

-Unless you're teasing him on purpose, then he might get a bit agitated with you

- "My dear, I'm not too fond of how you let him touch you just then, please stop that."

 

-He's a two way street, either a sweetheart who tries to dodge around it or a straight maniac who will plot murdering whoever it is.

    -Nothing to mistake, he isnt brainless, so theres always a chance he wont care

-He's mostly secure in your relationship with him but could use reassurance in times like that

Meguru Bachira 

-Relatively tame for the most part

-If anything, he may get clingier

-He honestly doesnt even acknowledge the person youre talking to at first, he's too invested in you

"Oh, Baby! You busy today? I wanted to try this- hm? Oh, you're talking to someone...? Anyway, its this cool bakery I saw, we should try it!"

-If you aren't giving him your attention, that's when he'd get pouty

-He's a child at heart, naturally he's gonna get upset if you aren't paying him mind, no matter the reason

"Babyyyyyyy, gimme attention...! I dont care who youre talking to, love me!"

-Its cute so you usually give him his way and stop what youre doing

       

     --> Little do you know, he does it on purpose because it always works

-Definitely a michevious little bumblebee

Seishiro Nagi 

-Another rather tame one

-Hard to tell if he even cares with how lazy and laid back he is 

-It usually never bothers him since he does trust you 

"Hm? Your friend asked to hang out today? Sounds cool.." 

-Like Bachira, he only cares when it cuts into your time with him, now its something of note for him

-How could you leave your boyfriend for some lame hangout? Playing Video games with him is much more important

"You want me to get off..? No...Not until you promise you'll stay and hang out with me..."

-Please just stay, he might actually cry if you leave (he wont, but it always gets you because you believe him)

     ->A 6'2" babi, why wouldnt you want to give him what he wants?

- Eventually he makes you forget why you were trying to leave in the first place

Reo Mikage

-Have you seen how he gets with Nagi? Safe to say he wont be very happy

-As mad as he'd be, I doubt he'll make sure you see that

-All smiles and grins when you look at him, what do you mean you swear you saw him scowl at the guy behind you? You're just seeing things love

 

"Dove, who's this? A..friend? Ah, well im sure we'll get along well, real well...."

-We all know how privledged he is, he would be appauled that you want time with anyone besides him, what could they give you that he cant?

-Granted, he wouldnt give it much thought at first but as you keep focus on this person, itll eat away at him more before he's pouting and begging for you to give him your undivided time

"C'mon Dove, how bout we go to that new cafe you were talking about, hm? No, im not trying to distract you, how could you say that..?"

(Thats definitely what hes doing)

-Eventually he'd bribe or sweet talk you into giving him what he wants 

    -"Dont ask about where that guy went, hes not important....Now lets go get some ice cream, yeah?"

-A tad creepy and overprotective but with all that money, who is to stop him?

Chigiri Hyoma

 The most tame on this list, and by a rather large margin too

-This pretty boy knows you'll eventually give him your attention, nothing to worry about

-If anything, he encourages you to allocate your time doing what you want and speaking to who you wish

-That can change if the person is too touchy with you, however

"Pretty sure they asked you to take your hands off, keep them to yourself."

 

-He trusts you entirely, its the people you hang around that can overstep and agitate him 

-Hence why he's almost always hanging out with you, your friends are his friends right? What better way to show them that you're happily taken then to bring your sweet, beautiful redhead with you?

"Going out sweetheart? Mind if i tag along? I mean only if you don't mind."

-Truly a man who knows his worth, but it would help if you told your especially pushy friends to mind their manners when he's around 

    -A few of them have actually attempted moves on him once or twice

-We stan a Pretty King 👑 

[overtail]

hii can i request you weite zuko x chubby/plus sized reader? specifically just general dating headcanons (and possibly some smut hcs if you feel like writing that). id prefer a gender neutral reader but im not very picky about that type of thing. i love ur writing btw!!

ONG TY FOR THAT! Exposing myself here but I'm actually a chubby person (lore drop im not a girl) so this is very heartwarming for me :33

...

Zuko Headcannons - Dating a Chubby/Plus-Sized Reader

this is not meant to romanticize eating disorders

meeting you ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-when you walked into the tea shop, he thought you were the most beautiful person hes ever seen

-'hey uncle, i can serve them'

-immediately wanted to talk to you

-he was extremely nervous, acting like a lost turtleduck

-'what? jas..jasmine tea! oh yeah.'

-gave you an extra cookie

-always waves to you when you come in

-was excited when iroh told him that you asked where Zuko was when he was sick at home

-you're his favorite customer

-'Lee. My name's Lee.'

knowing you ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-after a while, Iroh hired you at the Jasmine Dragon when he got the shop

-you and zuko became very close

-you two had sleepovers at his and iroh's shared apartment

-iroh would make you guys sleep in the livingroom

-loved the way your waiter uniform hugged your curves

-would make you food all the time, even when you insisted you werent hungry

-protective whenever you served boys your age

-you came with him and iroh to serve tea at the palace to the king

-'zuko? you're the prince of the fire nation?'

-you werent as angry as he thought you would be

-you were locked up with him and katara in the catacombs

-came with him when he chose to fight alongside azula

dating him (royalty) ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-when zuko started living in the palace again, he immediately offered for you to live with him

-a week later, he confessed

-he told you how you were the most gorgeous person he's ever seen

-how you looked like a painting from the renaissance

-held you close at night when you two slept

-assigned a special place in the palace for your special interests

-noticed when you stopped eating much

-tried to offer you as much food as possible

-was confused when he saw you throwing up after dinner

-'(y/n)? did you get food poisoning?'

-consoled you when you started crying about your body

-'it's the one i imagined in my dreams.'

-🔞kissed your arms, your neck, your stomach and your thighs

-he loved seeing your stretch marks

-🔞seeing you naked for the first time was a dream come true

dating him (redemption) ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-you refused to let him go work with the avatar without you

-was there when he told ozai about wanting to be better

-comforted him when he learned the truth about his mom

-helped him create his introduction to the gaang

-'hello, zuko here!' *you laugh*

-fully defended him when nobody trusted him

-got angry when katara called you a traitor too

-cooked you lots of food while camping out

-always worshipping your body whenever alone

dating him (firelord) ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

-immediately proposed to you after his coronation

-🔞got busy as soon as you guys got in your room on your wedding night

-loved getting clothes that hugged your body

-you were always there with him

-'what do mean they shouldn't be in this meeting?

-did anything to make you happy

-got you an extra cookie whenever you wanted a meal to remind you of when you guys first met

-very possesive of you

-beat the shit out of a soldier that made a rude comment about your body

[sirenlulls]

get him back! → theburntchip

pairing , theburntchip x youtuber!reader

summary , where, in lieu of yours and chip’s reconnection, fans find out how it happened, and just why you ended things in the first place.

part one (bad idea, right?)

oh, i wanna get him back! 'cause then again, i really miss him, and it makes me real sad

🔴 Y/n L/n Talks On Breakup, Reconnection, The Launch Of Her Brand, & More! FULL POD EP.77 -Saving Grace

join premiere!

LIVE CHAT !

user: stop i’m actually gonna cry ☹️☹️☹️

user: I KNEW THOSE TWITTER B WORDS WERE WRONG I KNEW THEY DIDNT END BADLY

user: that’s so lala land of them

user: “if i ever complained, i’d be the nagging girlfriend” NO BABY 😭😭😭😭

user: never thought i’d say it but i’m glad they broke up bcs if they hadn’t done it then, it would’ve been MESSY messy

user: off topic but can we please talk about how pretty she is :(

user: “if he ever complained about you, i would’ve given him a belting” YES GRACE 👏👏👏

user: WHY DIDNT WE GET Y/N ON HERE SOONER OMGGGGGG I LOVE THIS DUO SM

user: Sending love from Brazil! XX 🇧🇷🇧🇷❤️❤️

user: stop that’s so sad ☹️

user: she’s so real for the anxiety thing

LIVE CHAT !

user: i feel like i’m watching a tv show

user: “i don’t want to lose this again” and when i start sobbing????

user: ok but is the dick game good

user: HE SWIPED UP ON A COSTA TOASTIE ☠️

user: nah he’s down BAD me too but like 😭

user: he def would’ve thrown a temper tantrum if she didn’t respond

user: grace booing is so real i wanted a kissing in the rain screaming ‘i love you’ confession

user: her smile when she said she’s happy now man they’re literally my parents ☹️

user: Love you both X ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

user: the world is healing

user: NAH MAN SWEAR THATS CHIPS BOICE COMING IN NOW

LIVE CHAT !

user: i’m actually gonna cry i missed them sm ☹️😭

user: the camera switching to her looking at him with heart eyes after calling him a bellend is so funny GET HER ASS 👏

user: chip is the new an*rew t*te 🙏

user: oh how i missed him calling her lady and missus

user: he’s the leader of the sassy man epidemic oh lord

user: OMG I FORGOT WHEN SHE YSED TO GO ON COFFEE DATES WITH HIS MUM

user: leave my girl and her spotify playlists alone

user: this has literally made my year

user: just in time for y/n’s fall vids

[tagged: savinggracepod , gkbarry_ , theburntchip]

❤️ liked by georgeclarkeey, georgebxggs, and 98,992 others

yourusername mum! mum! i made it! i’m on saving grace!!!!!! (and i figured i deserved at least one pic of chip from the launch x)

user that episode was the funniest thing ever i can’t even i nearly pissed myself when grace pretended to spank u with the paddle 😭😭😭

user mother ur so gorg i’m speechless

user you know the content is gonna slap when y/n l/n is there

user im so obsessed with u pls

user CAL AND CHIP AT THE FUNCTION SIR 👏🙇‍♀️

user best video in youtube history methinks

gkbarry_ loved having you on babe, even if the boss man gatecrashed 🫶❤️

yourusername he doesn’t like feeling left out smh

theburntchip oh alright then

max_balegde ICONIC!!!!!!

user MY ROMAN EMPIRE

user i hope you know that twt is in flames rn

user i gen teared up a bit when you talked about the breakup 🥹

user icons only

[tagged: ynapparel , nellarose , theburntchip]

❤️ liked by landonorris, behzinga and 97,872 others

yourusername self representing by wearing @ ynapparel the past (and every) week 😩🤭 featuring the love of my life & chip ig…

theburntchip wow alright

theburntchip i thought you were a g 😔

yourusername oops sorry babe

theburntchip we’re over smh

yourusername oh no… what a shame ☹️ anyway… hot girl winter!!!!!!

theburntchip the fits are fire though 😮‍💨

yourusername as always x

user EATING SLAYING DEVOURING

user OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

user forever obsessed with u

user graduated from cuntingtion university with an phd in slaying

nellarose love you bae x

calfreezy chip looking dashing as per usual

theburntchip aye thank you brotha

nellarose AYYYY LOOKING SEXY 🔥🔥🔥🔥

yourusername ALL YOU BABY 💋💋💋

ynapparel looking good and dressed to kill 😉😇🩷

user face card NEVER declines

lissiemackintosh this barbie is my mother

user ur so real lissie

faithlouisak doll 🤩

alice_hez 😍🔥🖤

user WHATS THE SQUARE ROOT OF 64?????

user angel girl 🤍

centralcee 😮‍💨🔥🔥🔥🔥

user NAHHH HES BRAVE COMMENTING ON THE POST W HER BOYFRIEND

user CENCH GET OUTTA HERE MAN

user SIRENSIRENSIREN Y/N BABY RUN!!!!!

user OH??????

user wait am i missing smth why are we freaking out

user @ user cench has always been lowk flirting with y/n, like she interviewed him at some event last yr and he was being so flirty and obviously she was giving him blank wall back BUT when her and chip broke up he got even WORSE like man was always in her comments tryna chat her up and she entertained it a lil but now the bitch is back and he’s bold

user NAH MAN GTFO WE JUST GOT CHIP BACK IN THE PICTURE WE CANT HAVE U RUINING THAT

theburntchip just posted to their story

[mothiir]

sorry to be that rehash that droid de suggondeez plotline (I REFUSE TO CORRECTLY SPELL FRENCH) with big e stealing a wife but could we pretttty ppLEAAAASE get some more mothiir? i am obsessed with the eldritch inhuman but human behaviour you write him with. it makes me want to chew on him while simultaneously wanting to beat him with a brick out of hatred. i have so many ideas. but ill take anything you offer up fr ill live off the scraps like a feral dog, its just that the the whole david and goliath vibe is TASTYYYY. please dignify my complete insanity for just an intsy winsy second because all i can imagine is how utterly FUCKED the stolenwife!reader's pov is. you try fight back a little too much? oh haha, ur so cute, but keep biting or scratching him and he'll sicc one of the custodes (or a few) to really try you out. let you be so overstimulated youre begging for something in you, and oh boy big e'll sooo do that dont worry. or maybe humble you by keeping you basically half bare like yeah not so cocky now LMFAO IM SO SORRY I NEVER GIVE PROMPTS SO BRAZENLY LIKE THIS BC IM A COWARD FULL OF SHAMEEE UR SO MUCH BRAVER THAN MEEE (thank you sm if you do or dont run with anything i spat out just then)

first of all, never apologise for requesting stuff and also i totally respect your disrespect of the French language. as an englishwoman i am contractually obligated to hate those frog-eating bastards (disclaimer: this is satire pls don’t cancel me). secondly i absolutely love your description of my interpretation of big e because it is also exactly how i feel about him. beat him with brick, pat hair, back to brick. I know i have moved away from that content but I still wave my emperor fucker flag and am always taking requests for him

i promise there will be actual coherent fic soon, but for now here is a bullet pointed list of the sort of things that guilliwife experiences (if there is one in particular you want a full fix of let me know):

the Emperor steals you, and does not think to tell Guilliman — why would he? He fucks you, enjoys it tremendously, then has to go and do some important Master of Mankind warp fuckery that means you spend about a fortnight in some random rooms with no one to talk to but the Custodes. And they barely talk! You never work out if they are bodyguards or prison guards, since you can’t imagine that you are important enough to warrant guarding, but you also don’t think that there is much effort needed to stop you escaping. Where would you even go?

It would be so much easier if he was always a selfish monster in bed — but he isn’t. Worse: he eats pussy exactly how you think a man with millennia of practice would. He likes bringing you to the very edge of orgasm and just stopping, pillowing his cheek on your stomach and watching as you whine and cry, partly with guilt and partly with sheer frustration. You end up begging him to fuck you, stumbling out every title you can think of — lord, emperor, sire, master — but his patience is limitless, and he can keep going for hours, until you’re completely insensible, promising every depraved thing if he will just stop teasing and put it in you

You belong to him. No one else is allowed to touch you — apart from valdor, one of his oldest friends and dearest allies. And captain Kytan. And a few other custodes. Sometimes at the same time. They’re extensions of his most absolutely not divine will — they can partake in the same luxuries he allows himself, otherwise what kind of a leader would he be? He likes seeing his best soldiers happy, especially when it’s because valdor is balls deep in your arse, while he enjoys the sweet warm stretch of your throat. You jostle and whimper between them, so full that you can barely breathe, and afterwards the emperor watches as valdor thumbs open your cheeks, just to watch your holes struggle to close up around the shape of his cock. Still, valdor can’t linger too long - there is already a line

He will cum inside you so much you swear your stomach bulges a little from it all. You have nightmares about popping like a balloon

eventually word reaches the Emperor that Guilliman is looking to speak to him as a matter of urgency — he is currently buried deep in your throat, enjoying the cute little gluck-gluck-gluck noises your gag reflex makes as you try to fit him all the way into your tight gullet. He does not ask you to stop this before answering the vox from a distraught Roboute, who is blathering about his fiancée going missing? The Emperor chuckles a little to himself, patting your hair — ah, having a woman to be wed and a woman in his bed, Roboute is far more like his father than first thought — wait. Ah. Singular woman. Singular. Shit.

[mins-fins]

I WISH YOU WOULD (P.WB)

SUMMARY . . . there's so much more he could've done, so much he could've said. he hates what a stupid mistake he made, and how ashamed he was. what does scrutiny matter if he couldn't even get his feelings out in the first place?

PAIRING . . . park wonbin x male!reader

GENRE . . . angst

WARNINGS . . . internalized homophobia, homophobia in general

WORD COUNT . . . 0.9k

NOTES . . . HAPPY FRIDAY!!! 1989 tv comes out today and i wish you would has always been my favorite song on 1989 so um this is what spawned because of it 👍 i'll be back in half an hour im gonna go watch that scary robot movie lol‼️

. . . lomls @partiallyderived and @jinkiseason asked to be tagged (they wanna make me cry so bad thats so crazy 🤣) (im listening to cherry bomb)

"i love you".

if wonbin could go back, trust he would.

there's something disappointing about falling in love with your fellow trainee, your fellow trainee who is also your best friend, your fellow trainee who is also a boy. he wishes he could rewrite time and not convince his mom to change his class at school, because then he would never have met him.

and now that sounds downright ridiculous, it can't possibly be that bad can it? i mean— falling in love with your best friend as a whole is an entire kind of situation that happens in books and usually has a happy ending. what's wrong with his best friend?

nothing, there's nothing wrong with him.

it's wonbin that's wrong.

having conflicting feelings is normal, obviously, everyone experiences it when they have a crush, but wonbin didn't want to have feelings for his best friend, wonbin didn't want to have a crush on a boy.

y/n was probably one of the best people he's ever met. he's kind, and understanding, and beautiful, and humorous and pretty much attractive to anyone with two pairs of eyes, he's the perfect boyfriend material, he's just perfect.

and maybe that's what felt so wrong about having feelings for his best friend, intimidation.

well, wonbin liked to lie to himself.

yeah, that's the reason your afraid of having feelings for your best friend, your "intimidated" by his perfection, not because your scared of what others would think, other trainees, management, your parents, the world, that's not the reason your afraid of having feelings for him.

wonbin had never really spent a lot of time thinking about it, and he hates how he can practically hear the responses from people the moment he realizes his feelings for y/n.

they're staring at him like he's disgusting.

and what's worse than having people judge you? judge you for something you yourself can't control?

it's what keeps him up at night, those worries used to be planted at the back of his mind, because how would it even become something of relevance in his life? it'd never actually become real.

and maybe he's wrong for thinking such a way; after all, he can't just let others dictate who he loves or doesn't love.

but it's the thoughts in his mind slowly eating away at him that make him feel like everything's spiraling out of control. he can't date y/n, in a company like sm, in a country like korea, where if someone ever saw them together he'd be scrutinized and black-listed from the idol industry despite how hard he's worked?

it all makes him feel sick to his stomach.

how was he even supposed to tell y/n? he knew y/n wasn't homophobic but.. then there's the fear of rejection, he can't even imagine the kind of look y/n would give him if he found out. not out of disgust, but out of surprise, shock.

somehow, his mind thinks of every bad possibility as an outcome.

and just staring at y/n, sweet beautiful y/n who has no idea what he's fighting in his head, makes him fear confessing even more.

the two of them are already what i guess you'd dub "over affectionate". they do a lot of couple-y things like have matching rings, cook for each other, help run errands together, cuddle, steal each other's sweaters, cling onto each other like they were lifelines.

if everything stayed like that, wonbin would be just fine.

but of course, when has life ever been nice to him?

wonbin can't really stare at y/n without feeling like he wants to break down into tears and sob, they could be having the best time ever and he'll still have this overwhelming wave of sadness wash over him when he remembers his feelings.

it disappoints him in a way that it shouldn't..

and y/n clearly picks up on his sudden change. his flushed cheeks, mutters, and the way he seems to enjoy avoiding eye contact with him these days.

is his unusual clinginess noticeable?

wonbin usually isn't self conscious about things that like, but he guesses falling in love with your best friend makes you begin seeing things in a whole different light. he can't help but notice the uncomfortable shift in the air between him and y/n.

nothing has even been said.. so why is his anxiety through the roof?

wonbin finally snaps out of whatever dream he was having when he feels nails dig into his shoulder, squeeze them like his life depends on it. that's all it takes for wonbin to flinch, and he hates the way his reaction is so immediate, it's just more obvious that way.

y/n blinks, startled by the way he suddenly flinches. "you okay?" he inquires, and wonbin wants to kiss him so bad it infuriates him.

he shouldn't want to kiss him.

he feels like he's being pinched, and somehow he forces out a response; "yeah i'm just tired".

y/n doesn't buy his lie, it's evident in the way he stares at him for a specifically long time. "you should be fine".

wonbin pauses. "what?"

"your gonna debut, i wouldn't worry about it" y/n mutters, and he brings his knees to his chest as he rocks back and forth.

wonbin stares, hopefully not for too long, because then he'd just be looking too obvious and then y/n would ask more questions.

he really wants to punch himself at the moment.

he shouldn't feel so disgusted about being in love with y/n.

but he does.

[maodear]

If evil...why hot..........?

Guys I'm not yapping about alien stage this time.. Its Homicipher. I found this game out literally yesterday and I'm obsessed. So let me cover everything I know about it, if you don't know the game :D

I have only done the first episode or the first part and this is what I understood, if I am wrong on anything please do explain!! I am grasping of what I figured out yesterday.

( this sounds like I'm sponsoring this game. HELP)

So this game is literally "Romance with horror men." (and hot females too) . " The female protagonist, who has wandered into another world, interacts with non-human beings to decipher their language while striving to escape."

I like the idea of this game a lot, since you have to figure out the words and the language yourself, which isn't shown a lot in games. Which also adds the fun and makes you think. You have to learn word-by word. There are multiple endings with many of our horror males<3 so you can choose your favorite or have your angst. This is a romance kind-of game. If you take it as one.

The game starts off by the mc randomly appearing in this world (or Daydreaming?), and being jumpscared by Mr. Crawling(my bf btw...) The Mc wakes by near someone called Mr.Hood, who tries to help you but Mc realizes they speak two different languages. You as the player has to try and guess what he is trying to tell you, and you learn some words from there.

Soon after, you meet Mr.Gap. Which im pretty sure is some guy who wants to eat you. Since he appears time after time asking you "Can I have leg?" or " Eat your Leg?" Lmao. bitch I love my leg actually <3 Hes just some annoying guy or monster appearing. ( I do find him cute though, like in a cute I want to kick him

As you explore some more, you encounter a moving hand, that points to a head. Mr. Chopped!! (hes so baby)) Hes a silly head, he askes you to take him downstairs, & to picked up.

You go down with Mr. Chopped and you find this HANDSOME MAN. Mr.Silvar <3 He also teaches you words, tries to communicate with you (was kinda hard., but beauty does speak....)) you go open the back door. Which looked like some place to cut things up, and the mc is like "Oh😀lets learn more words like dora!"

When you leave the room, Mr.Chopped seems scared and asks you to stay with him. (Which makes me believe that Mr.Silvar chopped him up., but that's okay- I can fix him.)

After some more exploring, you meet (well he finds you) Mr.Crawling!! HE HAS SUCH A CUTE LILI LAUGH. HEHEHUSHE. If you already heard or know Homicipher. YOU KNOW HOW OBBESSED PEOPLE ARE WITH HIM!! ((and why people are guessing his tip color..?!?!?) Hes such a baby. & Mr crawling follows you!!

Oh and you get your crowbar.

You go on exploring with Mr. Crawling having some Kdrama moments, Like going on top of each other. (A classic) and things like that. Soon meeting Mr. Stitch, who I think wants to eat the mc, because she has blood. (I might be wrong since I didn't have all the words and probably got some wrong.)) Mr. Crawling and Mr. Stitch argue for sometime while the Mc has no clue what they were saying. (Little did she know that, Mr. Stitch wants to eat her.. lmao)

The Mc wants to find an exit, she wants to go back to the Human world. She tries to ask Mr. Crawling about where an exit is or how to say exit. But the language barrier was hard to ignore. What Mr. Crawling does figure out is, the mc is from an another world.

Ms. Blue-Clad is someone you also encounter, The Mc finds her crying and Mr. Crawling does explain that she was crying due to her losing her shoe. The Mc finds her shoe in a vent place, that she reaches for the shoe with her crowbar. When you show Ms.Blue-Clad she is very happy. She scared me when I saw her face but its okay, shes cute.

Oh and you also find Mr. Masque after sometime. He wastes your time by showing Mr. Crawling and the Mc some magic tricks. I will say though he has a really good design.

And more exploring and learning word, the Mc clothes get wet due to water. And this divine lady appears. OMMGOGGGM. Shes called 'The bride" and you learnt that she loves clothes and gives clothes around. So the Mc gets a pretty white dress from her. She appeared and left so quicky 💔 I hope she comes back

I didn't meet anyone else yet, but there was this red guy that Mr Crawling protects you from. And I died once because of this TV. I think he was called Mr.Scarletella ? and omg. I think hes my favorite just by looking at him barley. I have seen edits... I have seen the things you guys do. And he looks very pretty. I did stop around the cellphone area since I was playing for awhile. This was mostly a yapping of my understanding of the game of the moment. When I fully finish the game, I make some deep talks about each of them. Thanks for reading this mess lmao!! (Feel free to spoil stuff, I dont mind.

[dragon-queen21]

im sorry i wanted to submit this earlier, but i really wanted to at least do it on halloween since, well, its my birthday! listen man i get to brag and talk about this once a year, its my favorite holiday!!!!

but in honor of halloween, hereesss hmmm what do we have here? how about regressor sanji with the crew on halloween!!!

- luffy would LOVE halloween he woukd love the idea of dressing up and getting candy? dude are you serious i can smell luffy from a mile away, he would get the crew to dress up, especially if sanji (or anyone else) is small, its mandatory you see.

-OMG SMALL SANJI WEARING A SHEET WITH HOLES IN IT AND SAYING HES A GHOST

[ “m a ghost! ‘ook! ‘ook! m a ghost!”

“youre a ghost? ooh! so scary!” ]

- baby sanji loves brook during halloween, hes literally a skeleton! so spooky, brook knows this. i dont think he’d find it offensive or anything, i think hed be more happy someone finds joy in his new form during the season

- so. much. candy. sanji really doesnt have much of a sweet tooth, but when hes little, paired with halloween and luffy, usopp, and chopper in your ear about candy, sanji ends up eating so much of it that nami/robin end up having to deal with a very much sugar crashed sanji.

- zoro ends up scaring sanji somehow because he thinks its gonna be funny, but he ends up making their baby cry (he ends up bribing sanji with candy to stop crying before nami or robin comes) (it works)

- unrelated but i like the idea of franky being giving a halloween costume by nami or something and it ends uo being like a bunny. THATS SO FUNNY a huge robot man dressing up as a fluffy bunny makes me actually giggle

- sanji would love to carve pumpkins and then help someone make pumpkin pie with the remains or something. idk how to make pumpkin pie filling but i imagine its with pumpkin

- robin would tell great scary stories, but just age appropriate enough to where she doesnt make sanji cry ☹️

^ usopp too!! hed be much more of an animated storyteller then robin, doing crafts with usopp:) oh my goodness!!!

OKAYIN DONE BECAUSE IN DO TIRED AND I NEED TO POST FOR BIRTHDAY STUDFS EEEEEEK

📷

Oh my gosh! Happy happy birthday!!!!! Sendings you so many treats! Birthday and spooky ones!

~Brook would dress like a pirate, mostly because he would want to get a plastic skeleton bird and put it on his shoulder

~Luffy would also eat way to much candy while out trick or treating, and even if he’s stopped they get back to the ship and he eats it all there

~Also Sanji is literally me. I was handing out candy and just munching on chocolates the while time. Being half regressed means baby brain does not understand self control when there is just a pile of sweets in front of you. Kind of sugar crashed now as I am writing this bleh…

~Zoro with fake blood or with one of those headband pieces that looks like an axe or and arrow went theough his head, and Sanji just sobs, until Zoro takes off the headband and in a rush explains that it’s all fake

“Zoro mean.”

“Shi- I mean umm, look you want my candy? If you stop crying you can have as much as you want”

(Starts now crying because he eats too much and has a belly ache)

~I can imagine it makes Robin laugh which is enough to sell Franky on the idea when before he only put it on to be polite

~I believe it’s using the white part of the rind, the flesh I believe it’s called. Cooking it first like how you might do with an acorn squash. Then you boil it to cook it down more and then add umm…. I forgot what you add next umm something that I can’t remember umm… ✨magic ✨ yup mhm that was it :3

It is a very tedious process that my mom has done when I was super young exactly one time. Robin might have the patience to set it up and then have the little help her make the pie crust and pour into the pan.

~See Robin is more of a child’s story book reader (Sanji would love the book Ten Timid Ghosts) and Usopp is a ‘come up with a ghost story on the fly’

Bye friend! Hope you had an amazing birthday!!!! I am going to go watch spooky cartoons now and eat more candy >:3

[skzooweemama]

Hiii I love love loveee your past two works they’re adorable🥹🥹

I was wondering if you would be open to writing how skz members react to you like accidentally poking/touching them w something (ex: a paintbrush or the eraser of a pencil). Something that you wouldn’t expect to tickle them but it does??

IM SORRY IM TRYING TO HAVE THIS MAKE SENSE😭😭

If this is too confusing or you simply don’t want to write it please don’t feel pressured, I understand!

hi hi! i’m so happy you liked my last two works!! thank you for your kind words!!

as for this request: i’m crying and throwing up this is SO CUTE 😭

i actually have so many ideas-

thank you for being my first ask anon!! 🫶🫶 this turned out to be 6000+ words of tickly fluff omg- that was NOT intentional what the heck!!! i probably won't do this much for every ask i receive, but i certainly got caught up in this one haha

(i think i ignored the “accidentally” in some of these 🫣)

EVERYONE SEND ME ASKS!! 🔫

ENJOYY!!

~~~

Bang Chan:

When you heard the door open, you were hunched over your textbooks. It had been hours since you moved, practically yanking your hair out while gathering evidence for your research paper.

“Baby?” Chan’s voice came from down the hallway as he toed off his shoes and locked the door behind him. When you didn’t respond, he walked into the kitchen, finding you in the same spot he left you in when he went into the studio. “Have you been here this entire time?” He asked, coming up behind you to rub your back lovingly.

“Mmm…” Was your only response, not even offering your boyfriend a look.

“Did you eat?” A kiss was pressed to the top of your head. You nodded, and while Chan didn’t exactly believe you, he didn’t push. “Can I help?”

That made you look up at him, your tired eyes softening when you saw his bare face and equally tired eyes smiling back at you.

“Sure, thanks Channie…” You responded with words this time, pushing a book over to him. You briefly explained what you were looking for and he sat beside you, listening intently. Together, the two of you took notes for another half an hour before you stretched, sighing in relief as you were finally done for the night. “I never thought I’d get through those two chapters tonight!” You exclaimed, closing your textbook.

Chan giggled beside you, brushing your hair from your face. “Aren’t you lucky that I’m here?” He teased, giving you a lopsided grin.

You smiled and pressed a small kiss to his mouth. “Well duh, but don’t go getting full of yourself now.” You punctuated your last few words with a couple quick pokes to his side with the eraser of your pencil.

Chan jolted in his seat, sputtering out some giggles as you poked him. With a whine of your name, he pushed at the hand with the offending pencil in its grasp. “What are you doinggg?!”

You laughed at his reaction, trying to poke at him some more. “What? Why are you laughing?”

“You know why! Knock it off!” He cried, trying to get out of his seat so you’d leave him alone. Now feeling playful, you hooked your ankle around the leg of his chair so he’d have a harder time moving it.

“I don’t! Why are you running from me?” You continued to tease, grabbing his closest arm with your free hand so you could continue your assault. He broke into more giggles, pulling at you a bit but being careful not to hurt you.

Chan let out a small “Ah!”, his smile growing bigger and bigger the more he laughed. “Stohohop! It tihihickles!!” He choked out between laughs, body squirming away from you as much as he could from where you had him trapped.

“What? It’s just an eraser! Does it really tickle?” You asked, playing completely innocent as if Chan wasn’t a laughing mess before you.

“Yehehes!! E- Enough!!” His voice broke a bit from the laughter, so you let him have a break. You rubbed the tickly sensations away with one hand and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Sorry baby, I couldn’t help it.” You apologized, still grinning at his flushed face and slightly heavy breathing.

“You’re so mean…” Chan whined, suddenly feeling shy. You just laughed, and he made a mental note to get you back in the near future.

Lee Know:

“Min, are you sure I can’t help?” You asked, leaning against the kitchen island. Minho stood across from you, dutifully chopping vegetables to add to the stew he currently had sitting on the stove.

“I’m sure, just sit there and be patient, hm?” He told you curtly, staying focused on his knife work. You groaned, watching him chop up the vegetables longingly.

Minho was the cook in your relationship, you knew that. He could whip up just about anything if he had the recipe for it, whereas you had a track record of ruining instant ramen. Still, you always wanted to help him out in the kitchen.

After another ten minutes, you were feeling restless. Minho had moved on from chopping the vegetables and was now monitoring the stew while it simmered, waiting to add in everything else so it could cook all together. And his back was turned to you. You eyed one of his wooden stirring spoons and an idea crossed your mind.

Carefully, you approached him from behind, spoon grasped tightly in your hand. As soon as he turned around and stepped away from the stove, you held the spoon out in front of you.

“En garde!” You exclaimed, wielding your culinary weapon. Minho gave you a wildly unimpressed look.

“Are you secretly five years old?” He asked, moving your spoon aside with one hand, walking by you. You huffed and turned around, watching as he searched through the refrigerator. “Seriously, I go to all the trouble to make you food and you can help but be child-,” Minho cut himself off with a grunt when you poked his ribs with the spoon as he went to reach for something.

“I got you, Min. You’re dead now.” You told him, unaware of what you were doing. When he didn’t respond, you poked at him some more. “Hello? You good?”

Minho held out for all of five seconds before he began to giggle and try to scurry away from you. He smacked your spoon out of your hand and backed up as much as he could in the small kitchen. An evil smirk adorned your face.

“What, you done ignoring me now?” You asked, creeping towards your ticklish boyfriend menacingly.

“Honey… please, let’s just- let’s talk, okay? You wanna help me cook?” You laughed at Minho’s begging, secretly loving when he got like this.

“Nah, it’s too late for that now. I wanna hear you laugh.” With that, you lunged forward while Minho tried to dodge to the side of you. You caught him around the waist as he went, and wasted no time in digging into his hips. He screamed and clawed at your hands, breaking out into silly giggles immediately.

“Nohoho!! Nohohot fair!!” He cried out, leaning against the island once he gave up trying to fight off your quick hands. His laughs were belly laughs now, getting deeper and more intense as you abused his worst spots.

“Not fair? I think it’s totally fair, actually. You were being so mean to me! I think you should apologize.” You told him, acting as if you were actually upset. He tried to shake his head for a moment, before a well placed jab to his upper ribs had him keeling over.

“AH!! Nahaha!! Please baby!! Ihihi’m sorry!!” Minho’s voice was raw from the laughter, but he did manage to apologize so you let him go.

“Alright, you’re forgiven.” You let him go, pressing a kiss to his back and rubbing his hips briefly. “Let me help out next time, okay?”

Minho took a moment to gather himself, before turning around and giving you an annoyed look. “Fine. Just don’t be so childish then, hm?” He tugged you into his chest, pressing a searing kiss onto your lips. You squeaked in surprise, before he pulled away, biting back a smile. "You're so annoying..." He muttered and returned to cooking.

Minho's words nearly got him wrecked again, but you were hungry and his red ears told you all you needed to know. He was whipped for you, just like you were for him.

Changbin:

A whiny “Babeee” was all that you needed to know that your dark rapper was home from the gym.

“In the living room, Binnie!” You called back, setting your book down. Changbin came around the corner soon after, hair wet from a shower and a pout on his face. You sat up a bit, opening your arms in an invite to sit with you.

Changbin took it immediately, flopping down next to you and letting you wrap him up in your arms. He buried his head in your shoulder and let out a groan. “Missed you…” He mumbled into your skin.

“I missed you too, my love. How was the gym?” You asked, rubbing light circles into his back.

“‘S fine…” He trailed off, and you could tell he had more to say.

“But…?” You prompted, kissing his head gently.

“Hurt my shoulder…”

This news was surprising to you. Changbin was always so safe in the gym, never lifting more than he should and never using incorrect form.

“What? How?” The question left your lips sounding slightly more worried than you meant it. “Sit up baby, let me see.”

Changbin sat up, looking bashful. “I tried to lift too much… usually I increase by 10 pounds, but today I increased by 20.”

“Oh Binnie…” You sighed. “Which arm?” He gestured to his right shoulder. Gently, you touched the muscle there, pressing lightly until he flinched. It seemed to be the worst on his inner bicep. “Want me to try to roll it out?”

Your boyfriend nodded, looking kind of pitiful. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He was always so confident at the gym, this mistake must’ve been really frustrating. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his pouting lips, rubbing his arm comfortingly.

“I’ll be right back.” You told him, going to find his little muscle roller stick. It looked like a rolling pin with bumps on it, and it was meant to help sore muscles heal faster. Originally, you had bought it for yourself, but once you started dating a gym rat it became a communal item.

You returned quickly and instructed Changbin to lay on the ground with his right arm raised above his head. “Okay baby, I’m just going to roll this up and down your arm. Tell me if it hurts too much.” You explain, kneeling beside him. He nodded and shut his eyes, brow drawn up in preparation for the inevitable pain.

Beginning slowly, you rolled the small foam roller up and down his muscly inner bicep, pressing firmly. Changbin let out some groans, face scrunched as the pressure built up. You knew it would end up hurting, it always did. Rolling out your muscles was a real chore.

“You doing okay?” You asked, to which he nodded. You kept it up for another few minutes before you lightened it up. “I’m gonna go lighter now, okay?”

The light, gentle rolling of the foam was a sharp contrast to the deep pressure he had felt moments earlier, and when it approached his armpit, Changbin’s eyes snapped open.

“Wait-,” He exclaimed, trying to swallow the giggles threatening to burst forth.

You seemed to be none the wiser.

“What?” Once again, the roller approached his armpit, and this time, Changbin couldn’t help but stutter out a small laugh. A teasing grin grew on your face. “Oh? Does this maybe… tickle?”

A blush blossomed across his cheeks immediately, and Changbin shook his head. frantic. “No! No it really doesn’t, but I think I’m done now, so- AHH!”

You rolled the ridged massager right into his armpit this time, causing him to scream. He desperately tried to put his arm down and roll away, but you had him pinned with a knee on his elbow. He couldn’t help but break out into his goofy giggles once he realized he had no where to go.

“PLEHehase!! Bahahby!! It tickles!!” He laughed, shaking his head from side to side. Of course you knew he was ticklish, but opportunities to torture him never presented themselves so nicely. How could you let this one pass you up?

“Oh, so now you’re going to tell the truth? I thought it didn’t tickle?” You asked, and Changbin simply threw his head back, his giggles becoming louder. (Part of that was your fault, as you did start trailing your fingers against his sensitive skin after the roller left it)

His squirming got more and more intense, and since he was already injured, you didn’t want him to get more hurt. Reluctantly, you got off of him and helped him sit up, massaging the top of his shoulder with your hands while he caught his breath.

“That was… really mean…” Changbin said, panting a bit in between words. He still wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side. You giggled and pressed a kiss to his hurt shoulder.

“Sorry Binnie, you were just too cute.” Changbin blushed again at your words, and shook his shoulders in the way he did when he got flustered.

“Yeah? Your Binnie is cute?” He asked, pursing his lips for a kiss.

“The cutest.” You confirmed, leaning forward to grant his wish.

Hyunjin:

“Darling, hey…” A gentle hand shook you awake. You blinked at its owner blearily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Jinnie? What’s wrong?” You asked as you made out the figure of your boyfriend kneeling over you. His hair was pulled back away from his face and he was smiling at you softly.

“Nothing’s wrong, you just fell asleep. I didn’t want you to ruin your sleep tonight.” Hyunjin told you, petting your hair once before getting up from the side of the couch. You sat up, suddenly feeling lonely.

“Where are you going?” You asked, watching as he headed towards the hallway. He turned back towards you and you realized his clothes were covered in smears of different colors.

“Painting, you wanna come watch?” He asked, turning his head to the side as he did. You nodded, unwrapping yourself from your blanket cocoon and getting up to follow after him.

Hyunjin laughed when you reached him, kissing your head gently. “You’re so cute…” He murmured into your hair before leading the way down the hallway.

Once you were in the small studio, you took in the half finished art piece that he was working on. It looked to be a portrait of an old woman who seemed to be staring right back at you, smiling kindly. She didn’t have hair or the top half of her head yet, so you figured that was next.

Hyunjin stood behind you, wrapping his long arms around your waist. “I’m working on painting aged faces… do you like it?” His voice was soft and close to your ear. You leaned back into his touch.

“Mhm… she’s lovely. Reminds me of my grandma.” You told him, and he let out a huffed laugh behind you.

“I’ll keep that in mind, hm?” You nodded at his words, turning to press a kiss to his cheek before he took a seat at the small stool before the canvas. You took a seat in another chair, settling in to watch him paint.

After about 30 minutes, you still felt drowsy, and in an effort to stay awake you decided to distract Hyunjin a bit. You had spotted a fluffy old paint brush sitting by his art supplies. It looked as if it hadn’t been used in years, and you decided to change that.

“Jinnie?” You called out, getting up to grab the paint brush.

“Yes, love?” He answered, currently perfecting the shape of grandma’s hair.

“Wanna play a game?” You asked, coming to stand behind him, hands rubbing his back mindlessly. Hyunjin glanced at you over his shoulder, confusion etched into his brow.

“What game?”

You giggled at his innocence. “I’ll show you!” Suddenly, you lifted up the back of his sweatshirt to expose his skin. “You guess what I’m writing, okay?”

“Okay? But- GAH!!” He cut himself off with a yelp as your fluffy paint brush made contact with his back. You felt him begin to shake beneath your hands as you worked on writing nonsense all over his skin.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you wanna play?” You absolutely knew what was wrong. Your boyfriend was insanely ticklish. He couldn’t even stand you tracing shapes on his back when he was wearing heavy jackets- he was just too ticklish.

Hyunjin was doing his absolute best to hold back his giggles. The feeling of the brush against his skin sent shockwaves through his body, and it was all he could do to stay still in that moment. Any sign of weakness would be a ticklish death sentence.

You, on the other hand, were having a blast. It wasn’t every day you got a chance to exploit Hyunjin’s ticklishness, so you weren’t about to give it up now. The brush slowly found its way to his side, the feather light touch on one of his worst spots finally causing him to break into giggles.

“Wahahahait!! Waitwaitwaitwait- baby PLEASE!!” Hyunjin pleaded, slumping forward on the stool and trying to squirm away from the evil brush.

You didn’t reply, just pressed a kiss against his shoulder before you went in for the kill. While you swirled your brush against his side, your free hand massaged his other side.

Hyunjin lost his mind, practically falling off the stool in an effort to get away from your attacks.

“AHHH!!!” He shrieked, now on the ground. You followed him, sitting on his long legs as he tried to escape. The brush was abandoned, and instead you just tickled him wherever you could reach.

“NAHAHA!! PLEHEHEASE!!” Hyunjin cried, grabbing for the hands currently clawing at his ticklish belly. You giggled along with him, heart overwhelmed with adoration.

“Yahhh, you’re so cute Jinnie! I need to do this more often!” You exclaimed, digging your thumbs into his lower belly and vibrating the muscle there.

Hyunjin threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut and a large smile on his face. His witch-like cackles filled the room as he eventually gave up fighting back, instead just laying there and taking it.

“My baby is tired hm? Okay, I’m done.” You decided, halting your attack and instead laying down beside Hyunjin. You pulled him into your body and let him lay his head on your chest while you played with the hair that had been knocked loose from his updo. Hyunjin was breathing heavily, but still nuzzled into your touch as the two of you stared up at the ceiling.

“What was that for?” He asked after a while, and you giggled at him. Hyunjin looked up at you, offering you a glare and a pout as you laughed.

“I just wanted to mess with you, I couldn’t help it.” You explained, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He grumbled something that you couldn’t make out. “What was that?”

All he did was shake his head, and something told you to be on guard for the next couple days. Just in case Hyunjin decided to take revenge.

Han:

“Baby! Come listen to this!”

“Ji! Don’t yell, I’m right here.”

Han gave you a sheepish grin as he took off his headphones, turning in his rolling chair to face you. You were sitting on the couch of the studio he had taken over for the evening, just keeping him company and being an occasional beta listener for his new tracks.

“Sorry baby- I didn’t realize how loud I was talking.” Han said, flushing a bit. “But come here, I want you to listen to something.”

You did as you were told, sitting beside him in a rolling chair of your own. Han tugged you even closer and handed you his headphones. You put them on, giving him a look that said “let’s see what you’ve got”. He laughed and clicked play on the track he had queued up.

A trap beat began, quickly followed by a funky melody. Immediately you liked it, and leaned forward to watch how the audio layering changed on the program while you listened. Unconsciously, you placed your hand on Han’s knee while you listened, keeping the beat with your pointer finger.

“Wow!” You exclaimed when the track finished, moving the headphones to sit around your neck. “That was amazing Ji, seriously. I can’t believe how creative you are! That was like nothing I’ve ever heard before, how do you do it?” You asked, excitedly squeezing your boyfriend's knee as you turned to look at him.

To your surprise, Han was bright red and biting his lip. “Baby? What’s wrong, are you feeling okay?” You asked, suddenly concerned.

Han coughed awkwardly, nodding. “I’m fine, just warm suddenly.” He wouldn’t meet your eye.

You frowned. “If you say so, but let’s go home if you’re not feeling well, okay? I can’t have you getting sick on me.” You said, squeezing his knee once again as you went to get up and grab your jackets.

“AH-,” He squawked out as you did so, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. You stopped in your tracks, before turning to look at him.

“Are you ticklish?” You asked, and Han’s heart sank. He had been dreading this question since you started dating.

“What? Me? No, what a crazy question! I would never- NAha!!” You cut his rambling off with another sharp squeeze to his knees. Han began to giggled freely, realizing he wasn’t getting out of this without a fight. “Baby, baby please- just think about this okay? Don’t- don’t tickle me!”

There was no reasoning with you. An evil grin spread across your face and you pounced, squeezing and scribbling at his knees, slyly sneaking your fingers inside the rips in his jeans to tickle his bare skin. Han squealed, laughing immediately as he tried to roll away from you or at least push your hands away.

“Bahahaby!! Nohoho!!” He whined out in between giggles, making small whimpering noises when you continued your torture.

“Sorry Hannie, I can’t help it if you’re ticklish!” You teased, only letting up your attack when he began to kick out at you. He may be cute, but tickling him wasn’t worth getting kicked over.

Han giggled to himself for a second longer, before glaring at you. You simply stuck your tongue out at him and turned to grab your things. When you did, he grabbed you around the waist and tugged you down onto his lap. Before you could even protest, he began to tickle you like mad, making sure you laughed just as much as he did.

It was a while before the two of you actually went home.

Felix:

“Leonardo DiCaprio used to be so cute… what happened?” You sighed, laying on top of Felix while the two of you watched Titanic for the millionth time.

“I think his head got bigger- is that even possible?” Felix replied with a laugh, running his hands through your hair.

You laughed with him and gave him a teasing look. “I guess so. But I’m just gonna say that your head better stay the same size, okay?”

Felix made an offended noise at your words. “Hey! What the heck is that supposed to mean?”

"I dunno, Lix. What do you think it means?" You laugh, nuzzling into his chest.

"Uh uh, no. You don't get to be cute right now!" Felix said, trying to hold back a laugh of his own. He reached over and plucked the remote off the coffee table. "No more Titanic for you, it's making you goofy."

"What? Hey! Give that back!" You whined, reaching for the remote in his grasp. Felix shook his head, holding it just out of your reach.

"Nope, I'm turning it off! Sorry baby." At these words, you panicked, desperately wanting to continue watching. And desperate times called for desperate measures.

Just before Felix could turn it off, you grabbed his chin, tilting it down so you could press a heated kiss to his pretty lips. When you pulled away, Felix looked like you had just given him the most mind-numbingly wonderful drug to ever exist. In his daze, he accidentally brought the remote back into grabbing range. You snatched it out of his hand quickly, sitting up with a victorious cheer.

"Haha! I win!" You cried, waving the remote around. Felix groaned, sitting up as well and giving you a pout. "Take that, Lix!" To add to your gloating, you used the remote to quickly jab him in the ribs.

Felix certainly wasn't expecting that and grunted in surprise, bringing a hand to cover the spot you jabbed.

At first, you were worried you hurt him. "Baby? Did that hurt? I'm sorr-," You cut yourself off when you saw the light blush rising to his cheeks. "Did that tickle?" You asked, laughing out in shock.

Felix's cheeks turned dark red immediately, and suddenly he was up from the couch and running towards the bedroom.

"Hey! Get back here!" You yelled out, getting up to chase him down.

Felix had run to your bedroom and he didn't even have enough time to shut the door behind him before you were on him. Quickly, you had tackled him onto the bed, hands finding purchase on his lean hips. You began squeezing and Felix screamed in protest.

"AHH!! NAHAHA!!" Felix cried out, his laughs loud as he tried to pry your hands off his hips. You just laughed along with him, swinging a leg over him to straddle his thighs.

"And to think all of this could've been avoided if you didn't try to steal the remote, hm?" You lamented between giggles, skittering your tickling fingers up to Felix's ribs. He let out another scream, throwing his head back as you began to teasingly count his ribs.

"NOHOHO!! DOHON'T DOHOHO THAHAT!!" The words were hardly intelligible through his screeching, but you understood well enough.

"Do what? This?" You played dumb, but dug your thumbs into a particularly bad spot under his third rib. Felix's hips bucked beneath you aggressively, nearly throwing you off. His laughter fell silent soon after, his hands clawing at your thighs and his face nearly turning purple.

You rolled off of him, rubbing his chest lightly and giving his shoulder kisses until he caught his breath. When he did, he turned his head towards you, blond hair all in his face, and let out a sigh of pure exhaustion. You giggled and pulled him into your chest.

He fell asleep soon after, leaving you no time to apologize for being a tickle monster. Hopefully the cuddles would make up for it.

Seungmin:

"Min! Come look at what I'm making!" You called excitedly from your place on the couch, working on your latest crochet project. It was a hobby you'd picked up recently, and after mastering some basic stitches, you decided to try to make something special.

Seungmin appeared from around the corner, t-shirt crumpled and sweatpants riding up on his long legs. He was rubbing sleep from his eyes and he looked kind of grumpy. "Whaaaat?" He whined, flopping down on the couch beside you.

You giggled at his appearance and ruffled his hair. "Were you napping? You should've told me, I would've kept quiet." Seungmin just grumbled in response. "Anyway," you held up your project for him to see, "Look! It's PuppyM!"

The PuppyM in question was your crochet project. You had found a template online and you decided to recreate it to surprise your boyfriend. The stuffy was definitely sort of wonky looking, but you tried your hardest and you thought it had come out okay.

Seungmin, apparently, did not feel the same.

His eyes widened as he took in the Skzoo's appearance, and suddenly loud, mocking laughs escaped him. "Whahaht the heheck is that?" Seungmin snickered, trying to grab for it.

You held it out of his reach, making an offended noise at his words. "It's PuppyM! I crocheted him..." You whined, feeling disappointed by his reaction. "I thought you'd like him..."

Seungmin sat up, still laughing about it. "He's so squished! What happened?" He exclaimed. You frowned at him and grabbed one of the pillows on the couch, smacking him with it.

"You're a real jerk, Kim Seungmin." You turned away from him with a huff. You took PuppyM and tried to finish the stitching on him, but you felt so mad that it wasn't going well. The crochet hooks were not behaving.

Meanwhile, Seungmin was feeling pretty guilty. He didn't realize you were so serious about the project or else he wouldn't have laughed like that. He held the pillow you smacked him with and stared at your back silently, wondering if he should apologize.

Seungmin called out your name gently. "I'm sorry, baby. That wasn't cool and I-," You turned back toward him quickly, frustration clear on your features.

"Oh now you're apologizing? Yeah, seems about right. You know, I worked so hard on this!" Your words were angry and you jabbed him with your crochet hook to emphasize your point. Instead of arguing back, Seungmin let out a squawk of laughter and clapped a hand over his mouth, eyes widening.

An evil grin spread across your face and you set your project down, moving towards him on the couch.

Seungmin scooted away from you as much as he could, already beginning to beg for mercy. "Baby, baby please. I'm sorry, okay?"

"What are you sorry for? Hm? Because whatever it is, it seems like you need a bit of a punishment." You spoke lowly, moving to cage him in beneath your body. Normally, this would be sexy, but now Seungmin was blushing for a different reason.

Before he could get another word out, you slipped a hand up his shirt and dug into his side. Seungmin bit his lip, desperately trying to hold in the laughter that was threatening to spill from his lips. It was working until you began to vibrate your thumb deep into the muscles in his stomach.

"NAHahaha plEHEase!! I'm sohohoryy!!" Seungmin cried out between laughs, trying to hide his face in his shoulder while his hands grabbed at you in protest. You simply giggled at him, blowing air into his ears when he turned his head.

"You were so mean to me, Min. How am I supposed to forgive you?" You asked, pretending to think while your hand destroyed his ticklish stomach. You made a humming noise and pressed ticklish kisses wherever you could, causing the tall boy to squeak and hiccup around his giggles.

"I'll do anything!! Nohoho mohohoreee!!" His words were pleading, but you still didn't feel satisfied.

"Ah! I know." You stopped tickling him, getting up to sit on his waist. "You tell me just how much you love my PuppyM and I might forgive you, okay?" Seungmin, flushed and teary eyed, nodded. Before he could catch his breath enough to tell you what you asked him to, you threw his shirt up, pressed your mouth to his lean stomach, and blew one long raspberry into his skin.

Seungmin screamed, thrashing beneath you as the raspberries just kept coming. "NAHAHA!! PLEHEHEASEE!! PUPPYM IS- GAHAHA!!! I LOVE HIM!! STAHAHAPP!!" Seungmin could hardly get his words out, and his laughter fell silent just after. You blew just one more raspberry before wiping your spit off his tummy and pulling his shirt down.

"There, was that so hard?" You asked, smiling down at your thoroughly wrecked boyfriend. He only whined in response, pulling you down to lay on top of him. You heard his breathing even out as you cuddled him. "You gonna fall asleep again?"

A sleepy kiss was pressed to your temple, along with an "mhm" from Seungmin before he fell asleep beneath you. You smiled a bit, feeling your heart swell from the amount of love you held for him, even if he was kind of a meanie sometimes.

I.N:

"Thanks for letting me do this, Innie. It means a lot." You said, pulling out your makeup supplies and setting it all down on the table. Jeongin was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, staring up at you nervously. You had asked him to be your model for a project at your beauty school, and he had agreed without thinking. The two of you hadn't been dating for long, and now that he was here, he felt kind of anxious.

Jeongin nodded, offering you a small smile. "It's nothing. I want you to do well on this project so it's the least I could do."

You smiled and leaned down to press a light kiss to his lips. "You really are the sweetest, you know that?" Jeongin blushed and looked away, but he couldn't help but smile when you giggled at his reaction. "Okay, I'm gonna start now. Just stay still, hm?"

He sat like that for a while, letting you pat various powders over his face. You painted pastel shadows onto his eyes, highlighting them with lots of glitter and sparkle to fit the theme of the project. When you finished with his face, Jeongin looked like a fairy.

“There! You wanna see?” You held up your small handheld mirror to him, and Jeongin nearly gasped. His makeup had been done countless times by many different people since he became an idol, but something about the way you accentuated the curves of his face made him feel really pretty. “Do you like it?” You asked softly, rearranging his hair lightly so he could see more of his face.

Jeongin nodded, still staring at himself. “You’re amazing…” He murmured, dropping the mirror from his face and looking up at you in wonderment. “You’ll definitely get high marks on this project, just you wait.”

You laughed at his words, a soft blush rising to your cheeks. “You think so? I think it’s just because I had an amazing model to help me out.” You grabbed something else from the table and your long, fluffy kabuki brush. Jeongin had seen those before and remembered them because of the cool name. “Alright, I’m almost done. I just need to do one last thing.”

Jeongin nodded, seeing you were holding a jar of fine body glitter. “Where does the glitter go?” He asked.

"I was thinking of dusting across your cheeks and your neck, just to highlight the colors on your face," you explained, unscrewing the lid of the jar and dipping your brush into it. "Is that okay?"

"Uh y- yeah! Yes, that's fine." It wasn't really fine, if he was being honest. Jeongin knew how... sensitive his neck was, and he wasn't wild about sharing that information. But you looked so excited, how could he deny you?

You gave him a beaming smile and began to brush the glitter over his cheeks. That spot wasn't too bad, but now you were gathering more product on your brush and-

"Ah!" Jeongin cried out, grabbing your wrist when the brush made contact with his neck. Upon realizing what he did, your boyfriend blushed and looked away, slightly nervous for your reaction.

You giggled, patting his shoulder. "Are you ticklish there?" Jeongin nodded, keeping his gaze on his lap. "You're so cute..." You cooed, tilting his chin up so he'd meet your eyes. "Can I keep going? It'll be over soon."

Jeongin blushed once again, but nodded anyway. You smiled, once again bringing the glittery brush up to his neck. Instead of freaking out or trying to stop himself, he let his giggles flow freely as they came. His eyes squeezed shut and his dimples came out as he cringed from the sensation, which caused you to ooh and awe over him once again.

"Are you really this ticklish? I'm barely touching you!" You couldn't help but tease him, entranced by his cute face and melodic laughter.

Jeongin did his best to stutter out some words. "Yehehes ihit's bahad!" The brush danced up to one of the spots beneath his ear, which made him squeal out and try to hide in his shoulder. "AHH! Nahaha!!" He was back to grabbing at your wrist.

This time, instead of trying to will him to take his hand off so you could move, you used your other hand to jab into his armpit. Jeongin let out another soft scream and clamped his arm down over your hand, leaving the brush free to finish its work. You kept your hand in his armpit, just as encouragement to let you finish up.

"Bahaha!! Nohoho!! It's so bad!!" He cried out, beginning to thrash in his seat as both his underarms and neck were seemingly tortured at the same time. You giggled at him, and worked on the last little area of his neck before you finally let him have a break.

"I'm sorry, Innie. That must've really tickled, hm?" You asked, setting the brush down. "I'm done now, not to worry."

Jeongin's breathing was a bit labored, and his face was on fire, but he looked more happy than anything. "It's okay, it did tickle but... I didn't hate it..." He admitted, once again not looking at you.

You raised an eyebrow as you packed up your makeup supplies. "Oh? I'll have to explore that more later..." You sing-songed teasingly. Jeongin let out a small whine at that, to which you chuckled.

"Come on, I need to take pictures of you, pretty boy." 

[fangswbenefits]

Spicy chocolate:

Okay imagine this…

You have Miguel have been dating for a while now, and let’s just say the sex is….*chefs kiss*.

And you guys usually can’t go two days with out fucking, but you and Miguel haven’t fucked for TWO WEEKS NOW.

And so you’re going crazy, and Miguel would be a piece of shit like he is sometimes and just not say anything nor try to make a move, KNOWING DAMN WELL YOUR A BOTTOM WHO CANNOT MAKE THE FIRST MOVE TO SAVE YOUR LIFE!

So you go your best friend for some advice, and they tell you, to go get that chocolate that turns people on.(I forget what it’s called sorry)

You think they’re crazy but after a while of thinking about you realize that this might be the only way to help you out,

So you go and buy a pack, and when you get home you wait around until Miguel gets home, when he gets back you tell him you guys are watching a movie and that you went to the store and bought everything,

And he seems so happy about it, and when you get up to get everything he grabs your waist and starts kissing you and apologizing for not getting to tuck you, and so he wants to make up for it.

And you blurt out “for crying out loud I bought that stupid chocolate for what?”

Miguel looks at you confused, but slowly picks up on what your talking about, so he lets go of you and rushed to the kitchen as you try to stop him, but by the time you get to the kitchen, HE ALREADY ATE MORE THE HALF THE BAR OF CHOCOLATE. (DONT ACTUALLY EAT THAT MANY GUYS OKAY!)

And he just gives you a smirk before feeding you two pieces, it take a few minutes to finally kick in, and by that time.

You and Miguel are all over each other, and during him fucking into you and rubbing your clit, he whispers in your ear “You wanna know why I haven’t fucked you for so long?” He goes fast as you nod

“It’s because if I did I couldn’t stop myself for fucking you like this until I got you nice a full amor, until your you are wobbling like a penguin around the house swollen with my children. And tits full of milk, only for me and and the baby(‘s)

Y’all would not be leveling that bedroom for a WHILE, only to get food but you had to stay there only Miguel could leave.

RUBY IM LITERALLY ON MY PERIOD DO NOT JUDGE ME OKAY AND BEFORE YOU ASK HOW I KNOW THIS, ME AND MY EX HAD GOTTEN IT AS A JOKE FROM A FRIEND AND WE MELTED THE CHOCOLATE AND HAD CHOCOLATE COVERED STRAWBERRIES, OKAY!

(Also if you want to use this I’m 100% okay with that I would love it actually, but ya if you just give me some credit though, anyways much love <3)

👀

[evilgothmisandrist]

“menopause at 16”

This is a very personal post, please be nice. Also sorry if there is anything grammatically wrong, I was crying while writing.

So, since I was little whenever I wanted to get out of a situation, like going to school (because of anxiety or wtv) I faked having stomach aches, most of the times it actually hurt. In primary school I went to a doctor that told me the anxiety gave me actual stomach aches. At 13 I had really bad depression, from then on I didn’t go to school at least twice a week. I told my mom it was bc of my stomach, so she took me to the doctor, and they actually saw something. I’ve always been the fat kid, I went through an eating disorder during my depression.

Turns out that most of my “belly” wasn’t fat, it was a cyst. I had a really big cyst. It was in one of my ovaries, and they had to remove it. (This was when I was 14) I went through a lot of medical procedures and tests and everything. They had to put me an epidural and a lot of anesthesia. They removed the cyst and the ovary, i have a really long vertical scar in my belly now. I spent some time in the hospital, when I came home, since I was through a “I hate my parents” (I still don’t like my father, but I do love my mom) phase I screamed at them and we “fought”, which was very bad for my not completely healed wound. When I first saw myself without the thing that protected my wound, I was really really happy because I had a “perfect flat stomach”, but whatever, I don’t have that eating disorder anymore, I in fact have gained weight.

Well, since I only have one ovary left, my doctor/surgeon told me that she and other doctors had a meeting were they discussed my case, and they decided I had to freeze my ove in case I wanted them in the future, because having one ovary would make it a little difficult for me to have children (this was after I turned 15). I have never wanted children, I always knew that, I didn’t want to do that freezing ove because I knew I wouldn’t want them in the future, in fact I don’t even want to have a partner in the future. But the decision wasn’t mine, I’m a minor and the doctors decided it already. I went through that too, it was something fast and I thought everything was over (except for the check ups of course).

I was wrong.

In one of my recent check ups the doctors noticed something really really small that they didn’t know what it was, but we waited until the next check up to see if it would grow. (this was like november-december 2024) It barely did, it wasn’t even 1cm diameter. My surgeon told me they knew it was another cyst (or maybe a small piece they couldn’t remove in my surgery that time), but it was so tiny they couldn’t remove it, so now I had to be on constant check ups to see if it didn’t grow more. (Since it seemed like it wasn’t growing, im just being checked up constantly to see if it grows) She told me that she didn’t want to try removing it now (or ever if it doesn’t grow) because maybe they would have to remove my other ovary, which they didn’t want to of course, because this would cause me the menopause. I would have the menopause in my teenage years.

(which could happen if it grows more)

She got emotional because she was going through something similar (actually worse), she had something in her brain but she preferred not removing it because it was dangerous so she decided to be under constant observation. At that moment i wasn’t really paying attention to her, yes it was really sad, but I was thinking about how I just wanted all of this to end. I mean, I wanted the tests and things to stop. I actually liked not going to school because I had to go to the hospital and stuff, but it’s tiring too.

I wanted to tell her that I didn’t feel the same as her, I didn’t care about having my ovary removed and going through menopause and taking hormones, I guess I just didn’t care or just… i don’t know.

I kind of forgot about it, I mean, I didn’t care because I got used to this things.

(16 now)

I only started feeling sad about all of this “probable menopause and fucked up uterus” since I had a weird interaction with my brother and mother some days ago.

I was in the kitchen eating with my brother while my mom was doing the dishes, and we were talking/joking about when we grow up, she said she wanted grandchildren. I thought about making a joke about how her bloodline would end w us bc I don’t want to have kids, so before making the joke, I asked him if he wanted to have children when he is an adult (he is younger than me, 12, I know he obviously doesn’t know about his future but it was just for the joke) and I said I obviously didn’t and that I was sure.

He looked at me with the most serious expression, and said “Of course you don’t, because you can’t.” (referring to my current medical situation) with a very serious tone and it was so obvious he wanted to hurt me.

I don’t remember my reaction, i certainly didn’t say anything bad back to him, I do remember that I wanted to cry right there and then. I felt my heart crushing. I then stood up and left everything there and went to my room.

I cried a little then, but since that happened, I cry every time I remember about all of this. I literally am crying right now like a lot.