#just... get the fuck out of my house; I'm so sick of you lady

[medicinemane]

I'm kinda fucking furious with my mom

Her stupid slob lazy ass has lost my fucking ballot

I fucking brought it in with the mail, but it was such a fucking busy week with so much shit on my plate (think the fridge may have been dead still at that point, can't remember) but I go to check the mail and it's like ah yeah, there they are

Only just remembered cause had so much stuff going on and... she's just been making a pile of trash in the kitchen instead of going through the mail, and she's going "oh I never saw them"

Fuck you, my fucking mistake for trusting you with anything. I should have known you're such an asshole you can't even open your own mail

Like I'm actually fuming right now

[pinkthrone445]

-My wife-

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Gender:SMUT, hurt.

Warnings: Witchy SMUT! Strap on use, magic, insults. Spoilers from the series.

Summary: after loosing your wife, you beg the witch to take you to the road to find her.

An: Thank you @neverfindmegone for the icon babyyyy ❤️ I love it so much

-"Agnnes... Love... Wake up baby..."-a soft voice sounded on the ears of the woman, that voice was sweet, inviting, peaceful-"Please wake up Aggy" - The soft pet name made her smile in her dreams, soft hands caressed her arms-"I'm begging you, wake up, I need you..." - The voice distorted, making her frown on her peaceful dream-"YOU ARE FREAKING ME OUT, COME BACK! WAKE UP AGATHA!!" - a pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and shook her, a high pitch scream made her wake up, sitting straight on the bed, her heart beating like a drum. She looked around the room scared, everything was empty, quiet, dark. Her chest raised along with her scared breathing. She tried to remember the sweet face that pronounced those soft words in her dream, but she couldn't quite place it. She looked at herself and she was completely naked and confused, she felt like she where slepping for 3 years straight.

She remembered something about a case, founding a dead body... Then a girl slipping into her house and interrogating her, getting her arrested. Also another detective talking to her... Something about a morgue and she reliving all the stages that Wanda made the hex live through... Fuck! How long she had been trapped there?

She got up from bed and ran outside still naked, talking to her neighbors she found out that she had been trapped on that fake  reality inside the hex for 3 years and she didn't remember anything from it.

She went back to the house and tried to use her powers but nothing happened, her house was a normal home and the only thing she recognized there was her rabbit.

From the basement she heard noises inside the house, grabbing a spoon, she went to investigate. She pinpointed the surce of the noise from a closet, ready to strike, she open the door, only to find you there, a girl she didn't knew but that she remembered from the night before when she "arrested" you. You were on your knees tied up and with tape on your mouth, your eyes showed a little fear and something else behind them

-"Ah, so that arrest was less like an arrest and more like a kidnapping" - she said looking at you-"But if you are real and not an invention of my prisoned mind, that means..."-at that moment the door bursted open, a girl in black that you have seen at the house the night before, attacked Agatha using a knife and her powers, she was clearly winning, but Agatha was incredible persuasive with her words and she managed to convince Rio to wait for her to get her powers back so they could have a fair fight. The scene was brutal but sexy at the same time, full of passion and sexual tension that made you feel sick on your stomach.

When the lady in black went away, Agatha payed attention to you again

-"Oh right..."-she left you there and went to change muttering a few nonsenses and worries. You started jumping trying to follow her- "The house is yours random girl, make sure to tell the revenge seekers that I said hi"-she said without any intentions to untie you before leaving. With your tongue you manage to unstick the tape on your mouth

-"Take me to the road"-You yelled at her and she stoped on her tracks walking to where you were

-"Come again?" - she told you getting closer, taking the tape from your mouth

-"Take me to the witches road" - You repeated-"Please?" - You smiled at her

-"The witches road doesn't exists..."-she spoked with a anoying face

-"You are lying" - You knew she was

-"Am I?" - she played dumb

-"That's just what real witches say to keep the amateurs out"-she seemed surprised to hear that-"The road will give you what you desire most if you make it to the end... And I can. I will" - You said surely and she looked you up and down, but after a few seconds, she left you behind again

-"The road is no place for a teen" - she told you without looking at you

-"I'm in my latest 20!"-You screamed but she didn't seemed to care

-"I don't know where you heard from the road..." - she began to explain

-"Books, the balad, legends, lore, my wife..."-you tried to explain but she continued talking

-"But it will kill you" - she assured

-"It didn't kill you" - You replied

-"I'm exceptional" - she said arrogantly

-"That's my point... I know a lot about you and that's why I came here last night... To break that spell you where under..."-You confessed and she seemed impressed

-"Well, if you can break a spell made by the Scarlett witch, why do you need the road?" - she asked and you sat on her couch, jumping so much around made you tired

-"I don't seek power... I seek someone... The road promises that what you are missing, will wait you at its end... She is what I'm missing..."-You said honestly and she thought about it for a second, but then she stood and walked away

-"Nope, too risky, no time" - she left you behind again

-"This people that are seeking you are dangerous, do you think you can outrun them with no power at all?"-she turned around after hearing you. That seemed to convinced her, because she brought a par of scissors and told you that you were driving.

She explained that you needed a coven to get to the witches road and that you could find one practically close.

You ended up finding the first one on a pretty cheap store that could tell your future. After some very good tactics of Agatha, you found out that she truly was a witch and she ended up joining her coven, also she gave you the names of the next witches and you found them all, convincing them in different ways, mostly blackmailing them or making them feel shame, but at the end all of them appeared on the house ready to walk the road.

You had a near death experience but at the end you all finally found the road and used it to escape the Salem seven.

The road felt weird, the constant fog and the dark sky, felt like if someone was constantly following you or watching you and it made you act weird too. You decided to say close to the only person that you knew following Agatha every where, and that didn't went unnoticed by the others.

As soon as Sharon or Mrs Heart began to talk, everyone started bickering about each other, about being followed by creepy people, about what trials were about to happen and about how everyone was powerless

-"She is here and clearly she isn't even a witch" - One of the youngest members of the coven spoke pointing at Agatha's neighbor

-"You just need to be a witch to open the path, but no to walk the road..."-you murmured without stopping walking

-"Talking about no witches, who are you anyway?" - one of them asked, you weren't sure what they names were yet because you had only known them a few hours

-"I'm *blurred words*"-for you, what you just said was clear as water but they weren't able to hear you

-"My oh my, someone put a sigil on this girl" - Lilia, the older one said and you looked at her with confusion

-"A what?" - You asked confused and they all turned to look at Agatha.

-"Don't look at me, I didn't put that fancy glam on her, sigils are beneath me" - she said with a disgusting face

-"Is sigil a spell?" - You asked them

-"It's a redaction spell to hide something, in this case you from witch folk" - Now it made sense why when you told all your life to Agatha while you were on the car, there was no reaction at all from her part.  -"Looks like Agatha brought a little mystery with her, probably trying to get her all to herself" - The one with the punk vibe said and you suddenly felt threatened but Agatha covered your body with hers, protecting you from them

-"Look, we don't know why someone put that sigil on her, she could be something special or she could be a pest that a cranky witch tried to hide under a rock, we can crack her open later. The real value lies at the end of the road..."-she tried to get their attention away from you

-"What are you trying to find at the end of the road? "-one of them asked looking at you

-"My wife..."-you whispered

-"The road can't bring dead people back" - all of them said at the same time

-"She is not dead. She is just... Lost" - You confessed

-"Do you ever think to talk to the police about a missing person instead of risking your life here on the road?-the tallest spoke and you signed

-"Nobody believed me, her body was there, but someone else completely different was inside, she doesn't even recognizes me... I just want her back" - You talked looking at Agatha sideways and Lilia's noticed but she said nothing-"Wait, where is Mrs Heart?" - You asked at the same time a scream was heard, leaving you subject behind and running to find her.

When you found her, the road was almost swallowing her but you managed to help her and took her out to continue down the road.

When the first trial arrived, you found a gorgeous house but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching you. Everyone started to drink wine but you quickly refused

-"I can't drink, I... I was an alcoholic" - You lied, scared of them pushing you to drink

-"Who wasn't?" - Agatha jocked and walked away with her glass on her hand.

Soon you found out that they had been poisoned, but following the instructions of the potions witch, you could make the antidote, but it wasn't enough for your ex neighbor that sadly passed away.

Mrs Heart death didn't affected the purple witch, but you couldn't avoid feeling a deep pain on your chest, and rage because Agatha didn't even cared a little even though it was her fault that she got there.

The potions witch took you to a side after burring Mrs Heart to warn you about getting close to Agatha, but even though she was nice for doing that, you knew her a lot more than what they knew, even though she wasn't acting like the person you used to know.

As the time began to pass, you started to get a little mad at Agatha and her careless reaction to losses and pain. Also another thing that contributed more to your anger was the summon of Rio, when she appeared she started to hoard all the witch's attention. It made sense for them to feel attracted to each other, powerful witches, both had many years and they seem to have some kind of history together, but you couldn't avoid to wonder if Agatha really didn't remembered her past life at all. You didn't knew what would be worse, if she didn't remembered at all or if she remembered something and decided not to pay attention to it.

Your soul craved for her attention, for her touches, for her caresses, for just a love glance towards you, but you were getting none of that.

One particular night, after having a talk between you all around a fire, Agatha stood up and you thought it would be a good opportunity to talk to her alone, to see that even with that stupid sigil she could understand anything that you were trying to say. But the road was a tricky place and you got lost, and by the time you found her, Rio and her were about to kiss, thing you couldn't watch and decided to walk away with your clenching heart on your hands.

You were feeling so bad that you tried to stay alone for a bit to avoid crying in front of the others, but the loneliness didn't lasted long, because after a few minutes you heard something walking to were you were. You were supposed to be scared, but you didn't cared much about it at the moment.

After a few seconds Agatha sat beside you on the excluded part of the road, smiling like she always did

-"So... Why are you angry?" - she asked picking a little branch of the floor but you didn't answer to her or even look that way-"It's because you saw Río and I almost kissing?" - she asked and you looked at her surprised but still mad-"Yes, I saw you spying through the branches..." - she said in a mocking tone

-"And what?" - You asked trying to ignore the pain in your heart

-"Nothing, I just fund it funny... You know, you always get mad when I call you pet, but the moment that I turn my attention to someone else, you trow a tantrum like the little whiny pet you are" - she spoke with the same confidence that she always showed

-"I can't believe how disgusting you are" - You grumbled

-"You can't blame me, you are the one that got into my house looking for me. You always say that you are looking for your wife because you love her so much but I found it funny considering how obsessed you are with me. Pet" - she used that name again and your blood boiled, she was such a mean and awful person to you and all the people, that she deserved a punishment, she deserved to feel how painful it felt to be near her. You lifted your hand ready to slap her but she caught your hand mid air and pulled you closer, your face mare inches from hers-"See? You are not even trying to get away from me. You are obsessed with me and I bet that no matter how much you hate me, you can't stop thinking about me fucking you and making you mine" - she said in an arrogant and mocking way, pulling her lips out towards you. In your mind you kept repeating how she almost kissed Rio and how much you wished it were you, and before you could convince yourself how wrong this was, you connected your lips with hers. You always liked slow and full of emotions kisses, but with Agatha, that wasn't an option. Her lips were soft but her movements where rough, she sucked your lips, she bit them and when you opened your mouth, she easily slipped inside to declare dominance.

No matter how much you tried to convince yourself that this wasn't rigth and that you should stop, your body would react in the opposite way.

You wanted to run away, but your body keept releasing sinful low moans every time her teeth pulled your lip. You wanted to stop but your hands kept pulling at her coat trying to make her be close to you. You wanted for her to show you any little bit of affection before doing this but you could feel how ruined your panties were with how aroused you were thinking about she fucking you roughly.

Even though you were walking for a little while trying to get far away from the others, the road had a mind of its own and you knew you were close to the others no matter what you did and that in any moment they could walk where you were and find Agatha and you making out, but for some reason that only made it more exciting.

The witch lifted you from where you were sitting and placed you on her lap, making your legs fit around her waist. Even when she was powerless, her hands were still powerful. With incredible precision, in one pull, your entire blouse opened, leaving your breasts clenched by your bra in full view, your breathing was hectic and that only made the up and down of your chest just sexier. You could see how Agatha's mouth literally filled with saliva looking at you, she licked her lips and her hands squeezed your waist trying to control herself somehow. Her mouth opened and she started sucking your neck, biting it, marking you as her, your eyes closed and you let your head fall back just to give her more access.

Her nails scratched your torso, from the valley of your chest to the end of your abdomen where your pants made her stop, sending chills on your body. Her expert hand pulled your boobs out of your bra without having to unclasp it and started to squeeze them, making it a little painful but so good at the same time. Her mouth started to suck your other breast while murmuring something that you couldn't quite place, making a mess on your chest, letting her saliva drip down your body, making you feel sticky and more sinful that what you already were.

With great strength, she lifted you up a little from her lap and pulled your pants down, letting you only on your underwear. She seemed rushed but you didn't wanted her to stop so you didn't said nothing.

The air on the road made you have chills and your body shook with desire, thing that didn't went unseen from her and made her smile arrogantly again.

Still holding you up, with her other hand she opened her clothes and you were surprised to see a bulge on her panties

-"I still have a few tricks on my sleeve"-she moved her panties to one side and pulled out a big purple strapped dildo and you realized that while she sucked your boobs, she was conjuring a spell to get that toy. Still surprised and lost by that, she carefully touched your panties, she immediately could feel the pool that you had between your legs-"And you keep saying that you hate me?" - she asked and you rolled your eyes trying to not giving her the satisfaction even when she was right. She let you drop on her lap, making you feel preasure between your legs because of the big toy and a moan escaped your mouth, her hand quickly went to your throat grabbing it lightly-"Behave pet, don't roll your eyes or you will regret it" - she told you and you nodded, completely at her mercy. You thought about teasing her, but you were really neddy and you were scared that if you pushed her too much, she would leave you rigth there alone.

Her hand went from your neck to your jaw and she pulled you for another hungry kiss.

Your hips, with a mind of their own, started to move against the big toy that was between Agathas legs, making her groan this time too.

One of her fingers slipped inside your panties, between your pussy and the toy and began to expertly masagge your clit making you see stars. Her thumb manteined her pace on your clit but her longer finger found your entrance and began to tease it, testing how open you were and finding very little resistance when two of her fingers easily slipped inside your wet entrance, your body trembled in her arms, adjusting to the feeling. She made a few pumps inside you building that orgasm that you were so close to reach, but then she suddenly stoped, taking her hand out of your panties and sucking her fingers with the cockiest smile that you had ever seen and you whined for the lack of contact

-"You are fucking delicious, keep lying to yourself that you hate me, I've bet you had never been this wet for someone else" - she said and slipped her hand inside your panties again, moving them to the side so she could make the toy grind against your soaked pussy making it fully coated with your juices.

She easily lifted you a little and found your entrance again, slipping slowly inside you, grinning as the purple dildo desapeared inside you. It was surprising how big it was and how easy you were taking it inside.

As you completely sat on the purple dildo that now was inside you connecting you fully with her, you grabbed her face, making her look at you, looking for something deeper in her eyes than blind desire, for a few minutes you thought that her walls were coming down, but she shucked her head out of your grasp and hid her face in the crook of your neck close to your ear, slowly starting to move her hips

-"Will you be a good pet and make me hear your little whimpers that you were doing earlier and gets me this hard?" - she spoke in a deep voice, clearly aroused. You knew that toy inside you was part or of her spell, but apparently she made it possible for her to feel it too inside you.

You began to move your hips along with her following slowly every movement. You could clearly see the preasure of the big toy inside your lower on your stomach, making you moan lauder.

As the pace began to encrease, your movements became sloppier and you reached a point where you were completely riding her strap, with your boobs bouncing and your hands scratching her back hurting her but in a pleasure way.

Her arms find the depth of your waist and hold you, making your ridind easier.

While you climax was getting closer hers too, and you could swear that you could feel her pulsating inside you.

Her mouth went to kiss you again while you desperately ride her and in a few seconds you came, your pussy clenching so hard that it was difficult for her to keep moving any longer and she came with you too, with the toy inside you, feelings your every move, every clench.

You collapsed on her body and when you could feel your hips again, you lifted yourself from the toy and tried to put your clothes on sitting on the log that you were at the beginning.

-"F-Fuck Aggy, that was amazing" - You said trying to catch your breath beside her, but she frowned and stood up from where you were making the purple dildo desapear and closing her clothes again, looking at you confused and remembering that dream that she had before coming to the road, the one where someone called her name, "Please wake up Aggy"... She looked at you

-"What did you said?" - she asked a little mad and lost

-"I said that this was amazing... Are you okay Agatha, you seem pale"- You sat more straight watching her, not fully trusting your legs to stand up yet

-"Yes... I... I will see how the others are doing" - she left you there confused and alone.

After a few minutes you went with the other too.

As time began to pass (you weren't sure how time was inside the road but that perpetual night made you feel like if you were stuck on a loop) Agatha started to ignore you and put more distance than before and that hurt you, specially because you thought that after sex a spark of connection would revive, but nothing happened.

Trying not to let that affect you too much, you stayed near to Lilia because for some reason she made you feel safe, safer that what the purple witch made you feel.

-"So... How was your wife? Like was she a good woman?"- The older asked trying to make conversation and take you away from your sad place and you smiled

-"She is...was... The best. She always treated me with such care, she was always protective. Every morning she woke up earlier to make my favorite coffee before going to work. She always brought me flowers, the most gorgeous bouquets, always with some little purple flowers like lavender between the other bigger ones..."-when you mentioned the color, Lilia frowned, like trying to find something behind the original gesture-"... She held  my hand in the most soft ways and she always hugged me when we watched movies together or to sleep, she always complemented my food and she always brought the dessert when I cooked..."-your voice was full of nostalgia and sadness and your eyes kept wandering off to Agatha every time you spoke and Lilia couldn't avoid but noticed that. She was about to ask something else but she yelled instead

-"You are pregnant?!"- You looked at her confused and everyone turned to look at you. After a few seconds Lilia's mind came back and she smiled at you - "She sounds so lovely..."-everyone keept looking at her "What?" - she asked unaware of what she said before

-"You are pregnant?" - Rio asked and looked at your belly, instinctively your hands went there in a protective way and everyone realized it was true

-"You ARE pregnant?! I mean, I knew my dick was pretty magical but I didn't knew it had that much power" - Agatha made fun of the situation and you frown feeling vulnerable, you didn't wanted them to find out that

-"Please don't give yourself too much credit, this happened before coming here" - You said avoiding looking at her

-"You two had sex here?" - Lilia asked and you didn't even dared to look at her-"Oh honey... What about your wife?" - she seemed truly concerned- "I didn't imagine you as the cheating tipe..."-she seemed disappointed and you felt sick about talking with them about this

-"I didn't cheat... I would never" - You said looking at her eyes, for some reason you cared for her approval

-"Keep telling yourself that but we both know what happened..."-Agatha said in a mocking tone and you roled your eyes

-"I'm not a cheater! Why you don't fucking remember me Aggy?" - You looked into the witch's eyes

-"Oh god..."-Alice said with the pieces falling into place

-"... You didn't cheat, Agatha IS your wife..."-Lilia said and Agatha opened her in surprise-"The stolen glances, the love in your eyes, the constant search for her attention..."

-"That... It's not true... I don't even know you, the first time I saw you in all my life it's when you broke into my house..."-she said no sure about her own words, she didn't remember anything from her last 3 years after all. When Agatha understood why you were there and why you went after her, even if she didn't belive you, you finally felt how a weight was lifted from you, the sigil was broken

-"I didn't broke into your house, it is our house! We lived there for 3 years! But the last days you went crazy and didn't recognize me and kicked me out... And I came back for my clothes when you started chasing me down the road yelling that you were a police woman and that you were going to arrest me... You worked at the supermarket for God's sake! That's how we met... "-you said mad at her

-"That can't be... You are a liar" - she insisted

-"Who do you think that made you food all those years when you couldn't cook even to save your life?! Who do you think that made you company and kept you safe an loved? You truly don't remember my hand holding yours? Many nights spend slepping together? The way how our bodies fit perfectly together?! Nothing?! - You yelled and her eyes went everywhere trying to stop the memories that were appearing on her head

-"All that reality wasn't me, wasn't real! I was just a puppet, a prisoner of my own mind" - Her voice trembled looking at you

-"It was real to me!" - You snapped back and you felt pain in your stomach, you knew you had to calm down

-"I... I'm not that woman and I'm not your wife... And I don't know how that baby appeared, but it isn't mine..."-the witch said standing firmly in front of you and you signed

-"The baby is yours even if you don't want to accept it, I even bet it will look more like you than me, but you are right... You are not my wife anymore... She is not longer there, the only thing I can see in your eyes is your selfinesh for power and I know you will kill anyone in your path to get it, even if it's your baby or your friend, like you had Miss Sharon killed... There is no point for me to keep going down the road when who I'm looking for is dead"-You said with hurt in your voice and started walking on the opposite direction when you were going

-"Where are you going?!" - Lilia yelled

-"To find an exit to this stupid place" - You yelled back and all the witches turned back to look at Agatha

-"She won't last a day alone..."-Jennifer said with consern

-"That is not my problem..."-she flipped her cape and walked on the opposite direction to were you went.

[im4rmy]

when you first met - haechan (idol AU)

IMAGINE: his cleaning lady got sick and sent her daughter instead, but haechan gets home earlier than expected.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

• he was EXHAUSTED. when he entered his freshly new apartment he didn't even notice the lights on.

• he managed to slip off his shoes before being startled by someone coming from the corridor: you, with huge headphones on, oversized pink sweater and shorts, a vacuum in hand and dancing your heart out.

• he just froze, in shock. and you took a while before noticing him, just standing there.

• you screamed as loud as you could.

• "YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE!" "this is my house tho"

• "well i'm not done" "well i don't care?"

• he just scoffed and walked towards his bathroom to take a shower, little did you know he had to breathe deeply a couple of time because his heart was racing.

• "she's stunning, what the fuck?"

• when he came back, clean and damp hair, he thanked the lord you were still there, collecting your things ready to go home.

• "do you like fried chicken?" "what?"

• "i just ordered fried chicken. it's on its way" "enjoy yourself then"

• "we can eat together"

• you looked at him like he was an alien but GOD wasn't he so handsome.

• "i have wine" "you're crazy...i'm in"

• so you two had dinner together. first of many times.

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

masterlist

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 2 - Under My Skin

Series Masterlist - Main Masterlist

Author's Note: If you're mad at me for getting any lore or myths wrong through this story, consider that Supernatural themselves cannot track their own lore, and I'm doing my goddamn best.

Chapter title from Akaska Sad by Rina Sawayama

Word Count: 15.7k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Dean and John take on an odd, difficult case, and you try—and fail—to avoid them. Usual warnings.

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, enemies to friends to lovers, canon divergence, slow burn, angst, fluff, monster of the week.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3

Read on A03!

Lately, Dean’s life was fucking lonely. It was made of long car rides where Dad wouldn’t speak to him, countless cases where he felt almost useless, and restless nights where he’d get up to use the bathroom, look at the couch, and feel a little piece of him die again when Sam wasn’t there.

Every town looked the same. Every girl did too. He didn’t try to talk to them—he never had—but there was still something in him that was so furiously lonely, he was burning through chicks night by night in a desperate plea that they’d offer him something. Sometimes they’d talk to him, and that would become enough. He was never really all that interested—they all had the same voice and same words and same boring, apple pie lives that Dean would never get to be a part of—but it carried him over until the next one. Until he and Dad got the monster, left town, and nobody there would have to spare Dean a thought for the rest of their lives.

He tried to make them remember. He poured all he had to spare into the sex, and making it good enough that maybe—when each woman was married with kids and some sort of boring office job—they’d still use the memory of him to get off. They might not remember his name, or his voice, or his face, but they’d remember how he made them feel. And that did a little more to curb the loneliness. The pit like feeling of uselessness.

But sometimes he’d strike out, and be forced to wake up on an empty, stiff motel mattress. Dad would already be gone—getting coffee or working there leads or just fucking sick of Dean not being Sam—and it would only be Dean in the whole world. And that wasn’t enough. It couldn’t just be Dean. It’s never supposed to just be Dean. When it’s just him, everything gets too loud and too quiet and so hot, but also massive and empty and cold. Corners are shaper and knives are duller and colors are all muted, because only Dean can see them and he doesn’t deserve to. 

And when that happened, sometimes he’d grab his phone and consider calling Sammy. He’d stare at the number—hidden from Dad with a fake contact, just in case—and allow his thumb to hover over the call button, but never press it. He couldn’t. He’d have no way to get to California, Sam probably wouldn’t want to see him, and Dad would freakin’ kill him for even considering it. Dean couldn’t even say Sam’s damn name without Dad’s jaw ticking and an unsettling tension falling over the room.

So Dean stayed lonely. He worked every case lonely, found every bed lonely, and woke every morning lonely. 

But he wasn’t lonely in his dreams. It didn’t matter why he wasn’t, but he wasn’t. That, at the very least, was something Dean could count on. When he slept, he’d never be lonely, because-

It didn’t matter. They were just dreams, and dreams didn’t mean shit. Even it had been the same person starring in them every night—the same beautiful, twisted salvation to the pit that had formed inside of Dean, that he loathed and craved and couldn’t figure out how to get rid of—for the past year, Dean wasn’t some crystals and tea leaves chick who was going to try and find meaning in his freakin’ dreams.

This lady seemed to be, though. She was dressed like she belonged at Woodstock, there were dreamcatchers and random dried plants all over her house, and she kept trying to offer Dean a palm reading. Telling him his aura was strong. That didn’t fucking mean anything, because that shit wasn’t real, and Dean should know. His whole life was figuring out what things were real, and what was fake.

This magic, witchy bullshit was fake. 

The ghost haunting Woodstock Chick’s house was very real.

“You know,” Woodstock frowned at Dean and Dad from across the table. “I’m a little surprised you’re listening to me.”

Dad shrugged. “Well, ma’am it’s routine to investigate complaints. It ain’t our job to judge, just hear what you’ve got for us. Now, we’ve got the objects flyin’ around-“

“It’s just,” Woodstock let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head slightly. “I’ve been filing these complaints for weeks, and all I’ve gotten is made fun of by my neighbors. Then, suddenly, you’re taking me seriously? Sending three officers to talk to me-“

Dean cleared his throat, shooting Dad a weary look. “Sorry, did you say three?”

“Yeah. You two, plus the one yesterday. Young woman, with the rings and lip gloss. She was gorgeous, good skin and hair, bright aura, just like yours.” she smiled at Dean as she continued. “She kind of looked like a,” Woodstock frowned, tilting her head. “Like a cat.”

Dad scowled. “A cat.”

Woodstock nodded. “You know, just like how he,” she nodded at Dean, and he frowned. “Looks like a puppy. It not about their faces, it’s about their energy-“

“And you’re saying this chick had the energy of a cat?” Dean asked, not allowing himself to dwell on the puppy thing. He had too much shit to worry about already. “Ma’am, we-“

“We’re takin’ your complaints seriously, ma’am.” Dad’s voice was firm over Dean’s, and Dean felt a cringe of shame in his chest. “Now, tell us about the lights, and we’ll let you keep goin’ with your day.”

Woodstock continued, Dad asking more careful, smart questions as Dean sat in silence, and the lady’s problem was pretty obviously a ghost. Kind of a douchebag of a ghost, but just a ghost. The hard part was just gonna be figuring out who it was, because Woodstock was insisting nobody had ever died in this house, that she had no dead relatives, and that she’d never even killed anyone.

That last question did get them kicked out, though.

“We ain’t accusin’ you of anything, ma’am.” Dad remained in the threshold of Woodstock’s door, holding the angry woman’s gaze. “It’s a just part of our report-”

Woodstock let out a dry laugh. “Nice try, officer, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but I do know that’s a lie. If you come back, come back with a warrant, or-“ Woodstock paused, looking between Dean and Dad. “Send Officer Brown. She was nicer, and didn’t ask me stupid questions.”

The door slammed, Dad groaned—running a hand over his face before stomping back to the Impala—and Dean was frozen in place as Woodstock’s words rang a loud, clean, golden bell in his brain. When Dad shouted at him to haul ass he managed to move, but barely. Everything was far away, because things that were supposed to be trapped in dreams were starting to follow Dean into the real world. They weren’t supposed to. Dean had promised himself he’d keep Her trapped down, where he never had to think about her until sleep dragged Her back to the surface of his brain.

And that hadn’t really been working. Sometimes he’d smell fruity perfume on a woman, and She’d flash in front of his eyes. Sometimes he’d have some random girl next to him or over him or under him, and they’d moan, and it would sound like a siren. The worst was when someone would look at him and a tiny, traitorous asshole voice would whisper She’d look at you better. She’d be better. You’re a piece of shit, Dean Winchester, because She’d been the freakin’ best and you left her.

He hadn’t left Her. He’d escaped her. Outsmarted whatever bullshit she’d been trying to pull on him, whatever scam She’d been running. And it didn’t fucking matter that his brain was clinging onto every piece of Her he’d gotten to see that day—that the bells were made of Her beautiful voice saying Brown’s a cop—because she’d probably stopped hunting. Realized it wasn’t the fun little rush She thought it was and crawled back home to her fancy, stupid life. 

But She’d told him she’d been hunting since she was fifteen.

That had probably been a lie too.

It hadn’t sounded like a lie. 

Well, maybe She’d just been an awesome liar. 

Dean needed to snap the hell out of it. He’d tread down this path countless times, the voice—it seemed to live in his chest, a little to the right of his heart—trying to work out what that whole thing had been, and a good reason for Dean to track Her down and ask if She’d felt it too. 

But She’d been playing him, and he never wanted to see Her drop-dead gorgeous face again. It didn’t matter what he’d felt, because Dad was right. It had probably been some sort of trick, made of all those pretty lies and words She’d been using on him. So Dean didn’t mention to Dad that Brown had been one of Her aliases, because he wasn’t supposed to remember anything about Her. Dad was seething in the driver’s seat—grumbling about lone, stupid hunters interfering in their case—but She wasn’t here, probably, so it didn’t matter anyway.

Another three days passed, and they still couldn’t figure out who the ghost was. Everyone Woodstock knew was clean—and claimed she was too—and everyone in this town died of old age like a bunch of freaking suckers, so they had nothing. This ghost couldn’t chill the fuck out, Woodstock had been telling anyone who would listen about how it had started to throw plates at her head—how she didn’t feel safe—so Dad had them on rotating watches. Keeping an eye on the house from the forest in case Woodstock started screaming while the other kept working it, searching for just one goddamn idea of who the ghost could be.

They hadn’t figured out who the other hunter was, either, but Dean was growing more and more certain it might be Her. He could’ve sworn he saw a flash of perfectly styled shiny hair on the street. He was either going batshit crazy, or he’d heard Her voice in a corner store while he was buying aftershave. And a feeling like gravity had reformed in his eyes, bringing his attention to shadows that might be Her and making his every nerve flare when he smelled something sweet. Most of all, he’d been in the motel parking lot a handful of times and felt it. That odd, light feeling that had surrounded him when he’d met Her, making it so easy to breathe he’d been certain he’d been doing it wrong before. That he’d started to do it wrong again, after She’d left. It had felt so good and been so impossibly to duplicate—Dean had really tried to, as well, in body after body after body—but it was back like a fucking asteroid, crashing into him and obliterating everything he’d thought had been right.

But he hadn’t told Dad. To start, Dad would look at him like he was a fucking idiot, and ask if Dean had watched a chick flick while drinking one too many beers. Then Dean would mumble no, and Dad would roll his eyes and tell him to get his shit together, because they had a job to do.

Dean could’ve told Sammy. He would’ve listened, made a little fun of Dean, and then started to ask a bunch of  questions about what made Dean think it was Her. Maybe Sam would have found an explanation about how the vampire baby made men go crazy or something. Maybe She’d been a monster, and Sam would figure out what kind the moment Dean explained it.

But Sam wasn’t here, and Dean didn’t have any real evidence. He hadn’t seen that fancy car She’d been driving, and when he’d very casually asked the front desk of their motel—the only one if town—if anyone with Her name was in a room he’d gotten a no, but she’d probably be in a real hotel. With good water pressure and room service and little shampoo bottles that she didn’t need. 

She hadn’t been in a fancy hotel last year. But that had probably just been another part of the scam.

So he didn’t tell Dad. Dean just took his shifts to watch Woodstock, worked the case, and fucking prayed they’d wrap this up and he could forget the whole thing. Dad would find something soon, they’d gank the ghost, and it would be done. 

Dad had even said he had a new lead, when they’d swapped the watch. Dean had dropped off the car and gotten orders to stay here until Dad got back, to call only if it was an absolute emergency, and to message if he thought of anything new. 

He’d been trying to. Dad was off working the lead, and Dean really wanted to help, but no matter how long leaned against the trees—watching Woodstock’s house and frowning into the air—he couldn’t think of shit. His brain felt numb, because this was freaking boring, and none of it made sense. It was just a ghost, it shouldn’t be this hard. Shit, with another hunter on the case, the asshole should’ve been ash days ago. Maybe it had been Her, and she’d realized they were in town, and She’d left. Been worried they’d try to turn her in for her bullshit, even though She had no way to know they’d figured her out. 

Maybe She hadn’t wanted to see Dean. Which shouldn’t bother him at all, but the thought made his stomach turn and heart split down the center. He didn’t get it. It shouldn’t hurt, because he sure as hell didn’t want to see Her. He was looking everywhere for Her, but he didn’t want to see Her. He didn’t. He didn’t-

He did. He could. That was fucking Her. Walking up the steps of Woodstock’s house with a large bag, knocking on the door and being welcomed in with a warm smile Woodstock hadn’t offered Dad or Dean. 

She looked hot. Dean wasn’t sure it was possible for Her not to—She’d even looked sexy covered in blood—but she’d somehow gotten hotter. She wasn’t wearing that horrible jacket anymore, but well-fitting, casual clothing that She moved so easily in. Clothing that suited Her, that She looked comfortable in, that Dean wanted to touch to see what fabric She liked. It would tell him more about Her, about what she deemed suitable for herself, what she enjoyed, what she wanted. And if She allowed him close enough, maybe Dean could rip it off Her body-

Fuck. It was happening again. Dean had just looked at Her and she’d dragged him under some sort of trance. The feeling had returned in full force, like an inevitable kind of cancer over his brain that Dean didn’t know how to cure. Part of him didn’t even want to cure it—it felt right and natural and filled up that pit with a shifting light that was shaped like Her—but he had to. He was useless like this. Useless to the hunt, useless to himself, useless to Dad. Dad would smack him on the head and tell him to get a goddamn grip, because a girl wasn’t worth falling down for. Dean’s job wasn’t staring at pretty things and trying to make sense of them, it was creating ash and spilling blood. He was a solider, not a prince who was going to save the damsel. 

And She wasn’t a damsel. She was a bitch. The prettiest, funniest, smartest bitch Dean had ever met, who seemed like Cinderella but was really a stepsister. Dean didn’t need Her, and he shouldn’t be sparing Her a single thought at all. He should just text Dad that She was the other hunter, that She seemed tight with Woodstock, and that She’d been in the house for a long time.

A really long time. 

Too long. It had been almost an hour since She’d disappeared off the porch, and unless she was there for a sleepover, she should’ve been out by now. Maybe the ghost had gotten the jump on Her and Woodstock. Maybe Dean had to go in and save Her, not because it was Her, but because that was his job. And maybe She’d thank him, and kiss him because She was so grateful he’d put his grudge aside to save her life, and it would be awesome and She’d taste like sugar and be soft under his hands-

“Dean Winchester.” 

He nearly leapt out of his goddamn skin, spinning around with wide-eyes and clenched fists that couldn’t seem to remember how to fly and land square in Her pretty, mocking face. She was standing barely three feet away, Her arms crossed and brows raised, her bag nowhere in sight.

“Fucking hell, Princess.“ The nickname slipped out of him without thought, because She really did look like royalty. He knew why that was now—easy to look smoking hot and fancy when you had the money for it—but it didn’t change the fact. Her lips were glossy, her eyes seemed to shimmer with that pretty color that washed over his dreams, that causal clothing really did look like it was made to touch Her, and Dean couldn’t believe he was jealous of a fabric-

“What are you doing here.” Her voice still had that haunting, angel-like quality, but it was flat. Bored. Almost dead.

He gave Her a smirk, and he wasn’t sure why it hurt that She barely even blinked back. “Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing. What could a bitch like you be doing in a place like this?“

Her eyes narrowed, and Dean could’ve sworn She curled a little into her body. “I asked first.”

Dean shrugged. “I asked louder.”

“I- You know what? I don’t care.” She stood a little taller, her voice somehow growing colder. “Whatever you’re up to, stop. This is my hunt. I got here first, I’m handling it, and you’re only going to slow me down.”

Dean let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Ghosts aren’t really gonna respect dibs, sweetheart.”

Her eyes flashed with something Dean didn’t really understand. “They don’t, but I’m not that worried about it, De. Like I said, I’m handling it.”

He glared at Her, ignoring how something in his chest was humming, trying to get Her to call him De over and over again forever. “Sorry,” he drawled Her name, leaning forward and trying not to think about how she didn’t flinch away. How he could smell that same, fruity perfume and sugar from before. “I guess we’ll just have to let the better hunter win.”

She raised Her chin, holding his gaze. “I’m warning you, Winchester. Leave.“

He chuckled. “I’m good, Princess. Think I’ll pass, but trying to warn me was cute-”

“Listen to me.” She hissed, leaning close enough that Dean could pick out every small bump on Her face, isolate every color in Her eyes. “I’m not asking. Go back to Sam and John, tell them you figured it out and it’s done, and get the fuck out of my way.”

Something brittle snapped in Dean’s spine, his jaw clenching as the words pushed out of him like vomit. “Sam’s not with us. He left.”

He didn’t know why the fuck he’d tell Her that. She wouldn’t care. She seemed to hate Dean as much as he hated Her—probably bitter he’d got the up on Her, didn’t want him to mess with whatever scam she was trying to pull on Woodstock—and She’d met Sam twice. He shouldn’t have told Her that, because Dad hated even talking about it. Hell, Bobby barely knew about it. It was family business, and She wasn’t family, and that perfume had to be some sort of pheromone because it was making Dean a freaking dumbass-

“Is he okay?”

Dean blinked at Her, and her expression wasn’t soft, but it wasn’t empty. She didn’t seem like a statue anymore, and whatever was behind Her eyes looked real. Just as real as it had been last year, like there was a whole universe inside of Her that Dean had wanted to explore. To find out what She was made of, and if it was as similar to heaven as it seemed.

It wasn’t. Dean knew that, in his working brain—rather than his heart that stretched for Her and his dick that ached for Her to be just a little closer—She wasn’t heaven. She was temptation in a beautiful form, determined to make Dean weak and pathetic and soft, everything he couldn’t allow himself to be. But he still told Her the truth. His voice lower and without any venom, his body tensed slightly, his brain spinning as the strange look in Her eyes seemed to glow, dragging the words out of him. 

“He’s fine. Off at college. Decided he didn’t want-“ Dean cut himself off with a small shake of his head. He wouldn’t be that weak or dumb, exposing a gap in his armor she’d use to make him crumble to his knees. “He was done hunting. Wanted a normal life.”

She was just looking at him. Scanning over him carefully, holding one of Her own hands and just fucking staring, like Dean might be an illusion or his words might be a lie, and She was trying to look for evidence of it.

“That sucks.” She finally said, and it sounded so real. Like She might actually give a shit that Dean was lonely. That Sam had left him. “Sorry.”

 “I don’t need your pity, sweetheart-“

“I don’t pity you.” She snapped, Her features growing harsh once more. “I’m saying that fucking sucks, I know you cared about him. I’m apologizing because it’s probably complicated and messy and not all that fun to deal with.”

Dean scowled, something raw snapping along his heartstrings. “I’m doing just fine, Princess. I’ve got my dad, and Sammy’s safe in California. He’s still my brother, and it’s not like he’s fucking dead. So I’m good.”

She raised her brows, an amusement that made Dean’s gut boil written over Her face. “Yeah, you really sound it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Watch it-“

“Or what.” She hissed, leaning forward until Dean was almost drowning in Her. “You gonna run to John and tell him that the little moroi bitch is bullying you? That you need to hurry up on the hunt, because you can’t stand that I’m going to get this thing all by my fucking self-“

“All by-“ Dean stared at Her. “You’re still hunting alone?”

Her face twisted, her words hushed and furious. “That is none of your fucking business-“

“It is if you’re going to get yourself killed-“ 

She snorted. “Shut the fuck up. Don’t pretend like you give a shit about me-“

“I give a shit if you end up monster chow.” Dean sneered, pretending something wasn’t cracking along his ribs at the certain, settled hatred in Her voice. “The job is saving people, not choosing who. You try and jump in front of that ghost, I’ll stop you-“

“Please,” She scoffed, narrowing her eyes. “I’d like to see you fucking try.”

Dean’s breathing was ragged. His heart was violent in his chest, and his hands were curled at his side, and She was so fucking infuriating. Dean shouldn’t give a shit about Her, but his skin felt like it was being flayed at the thought of Her in danger or pain, and She shouldn’t sound like she was wounded by being the little moroi bitch, because She was, and Dean wanted to grab Her by the neck and slam his lips to Her’s-

“Stay out of my way, Winchester.” She hissed, still so close, and looking so warm and soft, and Dean was so close to figuring out what the hell that fruit was-

She was gone. She leaned back in a rough, sharp movement—like Dean was a magnet and She was only just strong enough to pull herself away—and just walked away. 

He might be stuck here forever—on the edge of the woods outside Woodstock’s haunted house—his body trying to cling to her and his brain trying to erase Her forever. It was something he’d been trying to do for a year, something he’d never managed, and something that was made so much more difficult by the fact that She looked back. That their eyes met one last time, and it was like lightning through his blood.

He would have chased Her in Dad hadn’t called right then. He spent the next two days trying to convince himself he wouldn’t have, but it was a fucking lie. He wasn’t sure what he would have done when he caught Her, but he would’ve chased Her. Rushed after Her and asked why had She lied, why did She look like she wanted to punch Dean when She’d been the one to hurt him, if She had looked back because she could feel it too. Feel the gravity, feel the drug, feel the storm that threatened to consume Dean in Her name. Ask if She dreamt of him, ask if She saw him in shadows, ask if She was a monster and beg her to set him free.

But he hadn’t chased after Her. So it didn’t matter. Dad had picked Dean up—long after She’d been gone, Dean still rooted in place, his head still spinning—and he hadn’t seen Her since, so it didn’t matter. Maybe She’d left. Maybe She’d just skipped town, and Dean would never see her again.

That shouldn’t feel horrible. It should be relieving, the idea that he’d won. That he’d gotten the hunt, gotten Her away from him, gotten a justification for why he hadn’t told Dad he’d seen Her. It would mean that She was gone, and Dean could pretend that had never happened at all. But it still felt like fucking shit, and Dean couldn’t figure out how to stop it. It ate away at his brain as the days blurred together, and they hit dead end after dead end. She remained at least out of sight, Dean still didn’t tell Dad that She’d ever been in town, and the hauntings just fucking stopped. No more lights, no more temperature drops, no more screaming Woodstock. 

It couldn’t have been Her. There were no graveyard disturbances, She hadn’t entered the house since their conversation, and it wasn’t like the EMF was gone. On the second day of no activity they’d had broken into Woodstock’s house, checked to see if it was gone, and it wasn’t. It had just stopped haunting.

Dad was losing his mind. He was barely speaking to Dean, shooting down all his ideas, and mostly just reading book after book and grumbling that it didn’t make any goddamn sense. Ghosts just didn’t stop, they still didn’t know who the hell the son of a bitch was, and they couldn’t leave until this thing was dealt with.

Dean suggested drinks—the motel room was starting to feel like a cage, they both needed it, and maybe the answer would be one or two bottles deep—and Dad had grunted an agreement. It was a small victory, but a victory all the same. Maybe Dean could find a woman there to distract from this disaster, distract him from Her-

He didn’t need to be distracted from Her. There was nothing to distract from. Dean might be dreaming about Her still—dreams where he did grab Her and kiss her, She fell to her knees and he went right down with Her, and it was fucking awesome—but She wasn’t anywhere real around him, so it didn’t matter. Every shadow on the darkened street was shaped like Her, but shadows weren’t real. That gravity in Dean’s chest was trying pull and pry Dean open so She could take a look, but that was just an emotion, and Dean wasn’t about to be some sort of pussy about his feelings. The whole bar seemed to smell like that strange fucking fruit and sugar, but Dean could just be losing his mind. The woman in the booth looked exactly like Her, and sat with her knees tucked up like she did, and was wearing the same shirt-

Shit.

“Dad, I don’t feel great, maybe we could-“

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Dean felt the blood drain from his face. Dad had seen Her. His face was drawn in a scowl, the glare he used during hunts was furrowing at his brow, and there was a glint in his eyes that set everything on edge.

He was fucked. She was going to tell Dad they’d run into each other, Dad would fucking murder him for not mentioning it, and She’d just fuck off and get herself killed with the ghost. Dean didn’t know why that last one felt just as terrifying as Dad’s wrath, but it might actually be worse. Dad wouldn’t actually kill him. He’d get yelled at and probably banned from driving for a month, but Dad would never hurt him. 

Dad would hurt Her. He was already stalking over to Her booth—She hadn’t even looked up, which didn’t increase Dean’s faith in Her lone hunting abilities—with white-knuckled fists that would have probably collided with Her face if she wasn’t a chick. Dean barely ran after him in time for them to reach the booth, to stop at Dad’s side right as he slammed his hand on the table.

She flinched slightly as she looked up, and the air around them became wired and electric.

“What the hell are you doin’ here, girl.” Dad lowered himself down to Her eye level as he spat the words out. “Ain’t no way you’re in town just by fuckin’ coincidence.”

She huffed a dry laugh, holding Dad’s gaze as she answered. “Not a coincidence. Just me, having the worst luck in the world.” Her attention finally turned to Dean, he felt alive, and Her words remained just as flat as before. “Hiya, Deano. You look like shit.” She looked back to Dad, her pretty lips curling into a smirk. “You both look like shit.”

“You think you’re smart-“

She snorted, cutting Dad off with a bored grin. “I am smart. Sit down, you’re drawing attention.”

She waved a loose hand around the bar, and She was right. People were wide eyed, watching them nervously, and they didn’t need that. Attention was bad in this line of business. It was downright dangerous. And Dad knew that, so he gave Dean a curt nod to listen to Her, and slid into the booth once Dean was settled across from Her. 

It was a little freaking insane, how She only got prettier. How in the low, golden light of the bar she seemed to have a halo around Her head. But it wasn’t real. Nothing about Her was real, and Dean would have to remember that. Dad was real, was looking at Her like she’d tried to key the Impala, and Dean needed to figure out where that hatred for Her had gone and bring it back. Convince Her to skip town—because She’d get in the way, not because the idea of Her being thrown across a room by a spirit made him sick—and cover his own ass, because he was still in danger of Her snitching on him. 

But She was hardly looking at him. Her attention was divided between Dad, her own hands, and the neon red, cherry and ice and paper umbrella drink in front of Her-

“Are you drinking a fucking Shirley Temple?” Dean spoke before he could stop himself, and She shot him a glare.

“You got a problem with that, Winchester?”

“Nah,” Dean shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I just didn’t know you were that much a prissy little princess-“

“They’re good drinks, dick.” She snapped. “It’s called having fun. Something you two buttheads,” She gestured between Dean and Dad. “Clearly know nothing about.”

Dean learned forward, bracing his elbows on the table. “I know plenty about having fun, sweetheart. Some might call me a master at it.“

She snorted. It was freaking adorable. “Some might call you a manwhore-“

“Watch yourself, girl.” Dad snapped, and Dean’s whole body tightened. Everything was rigid from the fury on Dad’s face—all directed at Her, all sick in Dean’s stomach—and raw from Her words. 

Manwhore. She wasn’t wrong, and he’d been called a lot worse, but it still stung like a freaking hornet along the cavity of his chest. There was no way for Her to know that, unless Dean’s whole face just screamed lonely. Lonely fucking trash to be used up and forgotten. It didn’t. He was so goddamn careful to ensure it didn’t. Even Dad didn’t know the extent of that pit, so it was impossible for Her to, and why did it feel like She’d just punched him in the gut-

“Listen to me,” Dad hissed Her full name, and it was a low threat that snapped Dean back into his body. “Skip town. This is our case, and we don’t need some fancy brat gettin’ in our way.”

She glanced at Dean, and he almost didn’t catch the small frown on Her face. It was fleeting—barely a flash on Her gorgeous features—but strong. Reaching all the way to Her eyes and filling them with an emotion Dean didn’t understand.

But then it was gone. And when She looked back to Dad her face was in bored and taunting once more. 

“I’m hate to break it to you, buddy, but ghosts don’t care about dibs.” Her lips curled into a smirk, and this was it. She was going to rat Dean out, he was dead-

“Lucky for you,” She picked up Her drink and leaned back in her seat. “It’s not a ghost. So maybe if you ask it really nicely, it’ll refuse to be killed by anyone but you.”

Dad scowled. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, girl. This ain’t another moroi thing, this is a fuckin’ ghost-“

“It’s not.” She grinned at them from around Her straw, and shit She had nice lips. They were a little puckered, Dean could still remember how soft they’d been, and they’d probably look even better wrapped around Dean’s-

“Whatever game you’re playin’,” Dad hissed at Her, snapping Dean out of his thoughts. “Cut the shit and say what you mean.”

She hummed, still wearing a bright, mocking grin. “You think it’s a ghost.”

“It is a ghost,” Dean muttered, watching Her carefully. “You’re not stupid, Princess, EMF plus random flying plates equals evil Casper.”

“That’s true.” She dropped Her empty glass on the table, leaning toward with a shrug. “But it’s still not a ghost.”

“You heard Dean, girl, it’s a ghost, plain and goddamn simple.”

“Have you seen it?” 

Dean glanced at Dad, and he’d bet a lot of money that their expressions were identical in pure freaking confusion.

“We don’t have time,” Dad grunted, his voice low and edged. “For fucking riddles. You-“

“It’s not a riddle.” She raised her brows, picking a cherry out of the glass. “Have either of you actually seen your alleged ghost? Did Maggie Rose tell you she saw it?”

Maggie Rose. Woodstock. The woman who would’ve definitely seen the ghost by now.

And who hadn’t mentioned it a single goddamn time.

“I’m guessing you haven’t found remains either.” She hummed, picking the cherry off the stem with Her teeth. “And you’ve been looking for who the ghost could be, but you’re not finding anything. You’ve been looking in the wrong place. Poltergeist’s don’t have to haunt the places where they died, and they often have little to no connection with their victims.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed. “This thing ain’t nearly violent enough to be a poltergeist-“

“That’s because it’s been getting enough attention so far. Maggie’s been screaming about it, and it’s found that satisfying enough.” She spun the stem between two fingers, looking between Dad And Dean with a triumphant grin. “Poltergeist.”

Dean was pretty sure Dad was going to leap across the table and strangle Her. His jaw was clenched, his body stiff at Dean’s side, and his words—when he finally spoke—were pushed through his teeth. 

“Dean.” He grunted, not looking away from Her. “I have to make a call to your uncle. Deal with her.”

“Yes, sir.” Dean nodded, and Dad slid out of the booth without another word. Leaving Dean.

But not alone.

Dean blinked at Her. Dad was gone, and She hadn’t mentioned that they’d seen each other before. Shit, She hadn’t even mentioned Sam, and his obvious absence. Dad would just chalk that up to Her being a bitch, but Dean was clinging to it. She should’ve said it. She had every reason to. But She fucking hadn’t, and some part of Dean was desperate to know why. To know if it was because the idea of him in trouble made Her feel like her skin was being ripped to shreds. It felt like that for Dean, whenever he was reminded that She hunted alone. Whenever a memory of Her covered in blood flashed through his brain. 

And he could still feel it. Feel the electricity in the air that was so different than before. It was charged and tense, but in a way that made Dean feel like he was breathing. He could feel things that didn’t make sense, but they were right. She was right. Across the table, running Her hands over her calves and watching Dean like he might try to take a bite of Her, She still felt like she could fit against him like another piece. 

“You’re not going to deal with me.”

Dean frowned at Her. She wasn’t meeting his gaze, poking the paper umbrella around the glass. “What?”

“What your dad said,” She muttered. “He told you to deal with me. You won’t.”

“What makes you think that?”

She finally looked at him. Really looked at him, for the first time since last year. On the curb She’d seen him, but not looked at him. Not like before. Not like that. Where Dean felt like She was seeing right into the pit—how empty and fucking pathetically worthless he was—and filling it up with something peaceful and silver and molten in his gut, like a melted star lighting him up from the inside. He wished it was real. Dean wished, more than almost fucking anything, that he didn’t know that this was part of Her scam or game. That She was looking at him like that because he made Her feel stripped and raw too. Because She saw something in him she wanted, and just kept digging for more without fear of him breaking Her.

But he also wished he wasn’t so fucking lonely that he could care about that. That he could get a hold over himself and just deal with Her. That She wasn’t giving him a strangely soft smile, and he wasn’t caving from how it made his heart freaking glow like a night-light. 

“Because,” She said, like it was simple. Like Dean should just know what she meant. “You won’t.”

“I might.” He leaned forward, holding Her eyes on his as he smirked. “You’re putting yourself in danger, Princess. Dealing with you would be the responsible thing to do.”

“Really.” Her voice was dry, disbelieving. “How would you deal with me, Dean Winchester?”

God, She was trying to kill him. She was looking at him like that, and there was a smug smirk on Her full lips, and Dean had spent the last year hating Her but now all he could think about was how the universe that existed in Her eyes, and how he wanted to see every inch of it. Bare skin and brilliant eyes that had been phantoms in is sleep, now real and touchable. He had a million ways he’d like to deal with Her, and all of them started with those blinding fucking eyes. Rolling back in Her head and fluttering under him and sparkling on his. Her voice saying his name like it was more than just a breath, like it was the blood in Her veins-

“I’m afraid that’s top secret, Princess.” Dean dragged himself together to shoot Her a wink, and he could’ve sworn she flushed. “But I’ll tell you if you give me that answer you owe me.”

She gave him a strange look. “We were even.”

Dean shook his head. “You had asked me two questions. I only asked you one.”

There was a small, frowning pout on Her lips, and Dean realized She might be trying to work out if he was lying. He wasn’t. That conversation lived in the corners of his brain all the goddamn time, he couldn’t forget it if he tried. And he had. He’d bet his life that he was right. She’d asked him two questions about Dad and Sam, called him De, and his whole brain had short-circuited. He’d only realized on the drive back, and he’d been planning to use that to try and get Her to do the game again, but-

But She’d been tricking him. A con-woman and spoiled bitch who had been planning to use him. He’d seen the evidence. He knew that’s what was real. That between them, Dean wasn’t the liar.

He should care about that more. He should stand up and leave, or threaten Her to get the hell out of Dad’s way, or at least stop fucking smiling at Her. But She’d nodded, dropping Her knees down to lean closer, and he was drugged on Her voice and smell and face.

And he stayed.

“Fine.” She said, and Dean felt a thrill-like rush through his body. She was so pretty. “Go.”

He didn’t have a question ready. He hadn’t really expected Her to agree. But She had, and now he was staring at Her, trying to find something. Anything at all that didn’t make him look like a gaping dumbass, lost in Her eyes and high on her smell. He should ask everything he’d wanted to scream at Her on the street, and throw in a shout of why the hell didn’t you tell my dad I knew you were here. It didn’t make any goddamn sense that She hadn’t, and Dean needed to know why. That’s what he should ask. He should just freaking ask why.

“Where are you staying?”

Son of a bitch. That wasn’t what he’d meant to ask, now She was staring at him like he was some kind of creep or asshole, and Dean had to figure out how the hell he could justify asking that.

“For the case,” he added quickly, his voice drained of most of the artificial, cocky arrogance he prided himself on. “Ya’ know. In case we need to find you.”

“You won’t.” She said, Her finger running over that scar on her palm. “This is my case-“

“Yeah, and you’ve got it handled.” Dean drawled, raising his brows. “You gonna answer the question?”

She sighed. “Same motel you’re at. Down the road.”

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t seen your car-“

“You remember my car?” 

He felt a little heat rush to his face, only worsened by how there was a little, dancing light in Her eyes that was trying to draw him into Her, as if he was only a moth and she was the freaking sun. And of course he remembered that car. It was Her car. He’d felt something seize in his chest every time he’d seen one like it for the last year. 

“I like cars,” Dean grumbled—hoping She wouldn’t see it for the half-lie it was—and a small smile pulled at her lips. It looked a little too real.

“Like your dad’s.” She nodded, starting to fish ice cubes out of Her glass. “The Impala.”

It was Dean’s turn to grin. “You remember my car?”

She definitely flushed that time. “Yeah,” She mumbled. “It’s memorable. Shut up and answer my question.”

Dean raised his brows, remained silents, and tried to bait Her into saying it again. It worked.

“You’re such a-“ She cut herself off with a sigh and roll of Her eyes. “How would you deal with me.”

“I’m so glad you asked,” Dean drawled Her name, feeling his grin overtake his face, every bit of his confidence returning—stronger than before—as She swallowed under his gaze. “I’d deal with you however you’d like.”

She blinked at him, and he was certain Her voice was higher than before. “I don’t, um, I-“ She glanced down at his lips, Her tongue poking out between her teeth. Dean wanted to bite it. “What?”

“However you tell me to,” he winked, and She looked like he’d shot her. Good. “I’ll deal with you. My question is how?”

“How-“

“How would you like me to deal with you, Princess?” 

Dean was pushing it. Shit, he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, or why he couldn’t bring himself to sneer at Her, or mock her, or deal with her the way Dad had definitely meant. But he did know that Her eyes were wide and blown out, and Her lips looked soft, and he wanted to know if could get Her to be speechless. To gape at him all needy and dumb, so he could show Her exactly what fire She’d been playing with. That he wouldn’t roll over like a puppy, that whatever spell She’d cast on him—whatever aphrodisiac she’d been using—Dean might not be immune, but he could give better than he got. Maybe he’d get Her to bend enough that She’d admit what she’d been doing last year, and Dean would forgive Her because he didn’t know how not to. Because She was like tattoo on his brain that he didn’t want to get rid of.

Maybe he’d get to keep Her.

Maybe they could start over.

“I…” She trailed off, and Dean wanted to smash his lips to Her slack, open ones and start over. She was still gaping at him with a wide, open expression, and fuck he wanted to start over so bad. Against every bit of willpower and intelligence he had, Dean wanted to give into this strange instinct and start over.

“C’mon.” He drawled Her name, shooting her a wink. “Use some words.”

She glared at him, something hot flashing in Her eyes. “Pass. Ask me a different question.”

Dean scoffed under, dropping his voice to under his breath. “Who’s not fun now-“

“I heard that.”

“Course you did.” He rolled his eyes. “Fine, party pooper. What do you like?” 

She blinked at him. "What do I like?"

"Like you said, sweetheart, I like cars." Dean said, trying to make his words sound casual. Like he wasn't desperate to learn everything about Her that she'd offer. "What's your thing?"

"My thing." She said slowly, still looking at Dean like he was insane. "That I like."

He nodded, watching Her carefully, and she frowned into the air as she continued. 

"I don't know. Books? Movies and music?"

Dean gave Her an amused, flat look. "C'mon, you can gimme more than that-"

"No, I can't." She snapped. She was really hot when she snapped. "Movies and music is my answer, Winchester, deal with it."

Dean drawled Her name. “Everyone likes movies and music-“ 

“That doesn’t make it any less important to me.” She said, narrowing her eyes. “How would you like it if I said everyone drives cars-“ 

Dean scoffed. “They don’t drive them like I do, Princess-“ 

“And you don’t watch movies and listen to music like I do, Deano.” 

He chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright. Point proven.” He titled his head at Her. “What’s your favorite movie?” 

She laughed. A real laugh, and it sounded like music and rain and a soft summer breeze that shot right into Dean’s blood like a drug. “It’s my question, De. But nice try.”

He grinned at Her, clicking his tongue. "Bossy-"

"Shut up." She tilted her head at him, and Dean just grinned. "What's your favorite movie?"

"Untouchables." He said with a shrug. "Your turn."

She just looked at him with a small, teasing grin, and Dean realized she was waiting for him to repeat the question.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine, sweetheart. What's your favorite movie?"

Her face split into a wide, full grin, and God, he was fucked. Nothing in the world seemed to matter more than that smile, and the way it made him feel like he was circling the sun, crashing down to Earth in a ball of fire, and turning to steam as She swallowed him in her gravity. He really didn't give a shit if it was real. Maybe Dean could get himself to be bloody and bright enough to match Her, and she'd feel this too. She'd feel this, and stay, and offer an explanation about last year. An explanation that would prove it wasn't all that bad, and that She was just as fucking empty as Dean was, and he'd fill Her up-

Fuck, he couldn't think that. Not right now, when She looked like that—beautiful in a way that might be deadly—and was smiling at him, and he couldn't get a damn grip and just hate Her. He wasn't supposed to be crashing back up into Her. Dad would be so freaking disappointed that Dean was dumb enough to fall for this act again.

But he was. His jeans felt tight, he couldn't stop grinning at Her, and that siren-like voice kept Dean in her orbit, with absolutely no desire to leave.

She had a million favorite movies. And She hadn't been lying. She watched movies differently than Dean did. Differently that anyone did. He'd never heard anyone use so many big art words in a row, followed by about twenty, very creative swears at a speed he could only describe as frantic. Like if She didn't get Dean to understand exactly why Indiana Jones was the perfect adventure movie, why chick flicks had irreplaceable cultural value, and sitcoms could be the best medium of television, the world might end.

And it should be reminding him that they weren't the same. That Dean was trapped in the mud—he'd been born here, he'd die here, and he belonged here—because it was the only place for things like him. Gut covered weapons, made of rust that would crumble to dust before they made it out alive. And She was just visiting. Using the mud to make Her feel alive or important until she could return to a world of people with ivory and marble who all spoke like this. She was using Dean to do the same, maybe more. Maybe worse. Maybe trying to pry him open and steal what little he had inside him. 

But, son of a bitch, She could have it. He'd stay right here with Her for a million freaking years, just as long as She kept smiling and rambling and giggling at Dean's small jokes between Her breathes. Maybe he could take that bite out of Her. Taste sugar and fruit and whatever else he was starting crave. He could take Her flesh and blood and call it even for what She’d done, because She was still so pretty, and Dean felt like he could be valuable under Her bright attention.

He’d repay Her for that bite by offering himself. He'd be that smeared, dulled weapon for Her. He shouldn't be. Dad would kill him. But he wanted to be. He wanted to stay here forever. And when the waitress came over—with plastic tits and syrupy words—he didn't even fully realize until She cleared her throat and jerked her head to the side. Even then he just frowned at Her, a drunken trance of her voice and smile still clouding his attention, because what the hell could possibly be more interesting—more important—than listening to Her talk?

Then the waitress leaned down, almost blocking Her from view, and Dean frowned.

"What?" His voice was irritated, impatient, but he didn't really care. He needed think lady to freaking move, before She somehow vanished like a dream through Dean's fingers, and he was alone again.

"You want anythin' to drink, handsome? The waitress asked, and Dean nodded. He could use a beer—it might help dull the raging wildfire inside him, trying to tear him between his hatred of what he knew She was and the raw, feral instinct to latch onto Her and never let go—and Her glass was almost out of ice cubes. If he got Her another glass, he could keep Her here just a little longer. As long as he could.

"Beer for me," he raised two fingers, pointing between Her and himself. "Virgin Shirley Temple for the lady."

The waitress blinked at him for a second, but got the message. Dean had Her. He didn't need to company of another pretty face, because none of them could be prettier that Her's. Shit, it wasn't even a fair comparison. Leaving this booth for anything—leaving Her for anything—would be like trading a burger for a fucking salad. Insane and pointless.

When the waitress finally moved, She was gaping at him, her words suddenly soft. Almost nervous. 

"You, um-" She shook her head slightly. "Thanks."

Dean shrugged. "Not a big deal, you blew through that fancy girl drink in like a second anyway-"

"No, that's not-" She frowned at him, and Dean realized she was touching that scar again. "You remembered. That I don't drink."

"Oh." Dean stared at Her, his tongue almost glued into his mouth, his brain a little warm and soft from Her almost vulnerable gaze. "Yeah."

They were just staring at each other, and all Dean could manage to do was clear his throat, scratch the back of his neck, and force himself to speak. 

"You, uh," he swallowed, fidgeting with the cuff of his jacket. "Never mentioned why."

"Why-"

"You don't drink."

"I'm not twenty-one yet, Winchester, I don't think I-" She cut herself off, leaning a little away from Dean with a small frown. He waited, the silence resuming for a long, heavy second that sat and froze in Dean's lungs. She wasn't looking at him anymore, twisting a ring on Her finger, and when She spoke again, her voice had dropped to a mumble. "I want a clear head. It's safer."

"Safer?"

"For our job." She curled a little into herself, like Dean was trying to peel her apart. "I mean, I can't really afford to get drunk. It could end, uh, badly."

Something became sharp over Dean's skin. That wasn't it. It wasn't a lie, but Dean could read it all over Her—he wasn't sure how, but he could—that there was more to it. But that's not why there was a sore prickle rooted in his muscles. 

"Because you hunt alone."

She nodded, bringing Her knees up to her chest, and the ache worsened. 

"You could drink." He muttered, leaning back with a slight slam of his hand on the table. "If you'd hunt with a partner."

She sighed. "I'm not going to hunt with a partner-"

"Why?"

He'd snapped. He hadn't meant to, but the ache moved to his mouth and he needed Her to understand. To get that hunting alone was fucking dangerous, and would get Her killed, and he cared about that so goddamn much for no real reason. He shouldn't care. But the thought of Her covered in blood make his gut twist and his heart burn in his chest, so She needed to get it. Now.

She narrowed her eyes, finally looking at him. "Why what."

"Why won't you hunt with a partner." He grumbled, holding Her gaze. "What would make that so fucking bad, sweetheart?"

"Because, as I've told you all week, I don't need to.” Her words were firm, dropped to a hushed sneer. "Anyone else would get in my way."

"I haven't even seen you since the freaking house," Dean said Her name with a low huff. "How could that be getting in the way-"

"I'd be fucking babysitting." She hissed. "I don't need a bunch of assholes tell me what to do, how to fight, how to kill something, how to-"

"Be safe?" Dean cut Her off with a sneer. "Not act like you're too good for anyone else?"

"I never said that, you asshole." She was starting to hug herself, and Dean felt ill, but he wouldn't be the one to break. "I am not too good, I just refuse to be a little hunter fuck-doll beating bag."

Dean blinked. "What?”

She sighed in flat, unamused disbelief. "Hunter's don't have great track records with women. I mean, be fucking real, dude. It wouldn't be the monster's that kill me."

"You," he shook his head. "That's- There are assholes out there everywhere, that doesn't mean you just roll over and accept death-"

"So what should I do?" She raised Her brows. "Be your partner? Be you and your father's little fucking toy until one of you puts a bullet-"

She cut herself off, and Dean gaped at Her, fire crawling over his veins.

"I-" She swallowed, and Dean wished he didn't give a fuck how She suddenly seemed so small. "I'm-"

"Do you seriously believe," Dean muttered, unsure if the fire in his voice was for himself, Dad, or how She looked like a wounded animal. "That we'd- Shit, are you fucking kidding me-"

"It's- I-"

"Save it," He snapped. "We are not killers or fucking savage trash-"

"That's not-"

"You listen to me, Princess-"

"No! I just-" She sounded panicked. Cornered. "I’m sorry, I didn't mean it like that, it's complicated-"

He scoffed. "Not that complicated, sweetheart, you think I'm just as bad as that shit we hunt-"

"No I don't-"

"You do," he hissed Her name. "Drop the act. And, just so we're clear, I'd never hurt you-"

She laughed, shaking Her head. "You can't be fucking serious. That’s-“ She tensed, her face twisting slightly as she scratched at Her skin. "You don't get to tell me what I should and shouldn't do, Winchester. You don't get to act like you give a fuck if I hunt alone."

Dean's hand curled into a fist. "Nobody should hunt alone, it's, fuck, it's stupid-"

"I am not stupid-"

Dean huffed a dry laugh. "I got that, Princess. But you know what? I think," he leaned forward, letting the words fall out of his mouth before he could think about them. Before he could stop them. "That you're just too much of a crazy bitch to have anyone stick around."

It was silent, and She was just staring at him, her features moving through a million emotions that Dean couldn't understand. He'd won. She looked like he'd taken a knife right to Her heart, and she wasn't fighting back, so he'd won. And he couldn't fucking breathe. He felt sick, and faint, and freaking awful-

"Choke on my dick, Winchester.” She snapped, but there was something weaker in Her voice. Something that told Dean he’d hit on something fragile. That he was a piece of fucking shit that went for the killing blow because he couldn't help it. Because he was the very fucking, lower-than-the-sewers trash She'd just accused him of being-

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, to take it back or say they'd both gone too far, and he felt like shit and still wanted—despite literally everything—to start over. To at least ask Her to tell him the truth, to at least tell Her how hating her like this made him feel wrong-

But She was gone. She'd left the booth and stomped out the door before Dean could even make a sound, and he just goddamn sat there. She wouldn't come back, but he was still just sitting there. Dad was probably waiting for him, ready to demand a reason why he'd taken so long, but Dean still just sat there. Shit, they might have a poltergeist to deal with, but Dean wasn't freaking moving.

What finally got him was the waitress, making her way back to the table and saying some snide comment about his girlfriend not appreciating him. Dean didn't even spare the woman a look as he shot up, shoved past her, and marched out into the parking lot to find Dad and get the hell out of here. If Dad asked, Dean would say he'd taken care of it. Not of Her—She'd looked like he'd torn Her to shreds with his teeth—but the situation. She'd probably be gone by morning, not wanting to be anywhere near two mud and gut covered hunters. Near Dean.

Dad was still on the phone when Dean saw the Impala. Sitting in the front seat with a frown, the windows rolled down to combat the flat heat of air, speaking in a low, gruff voice to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"I don't care," he was muttering as Dean approached, his voice carried on the wind. "I can get the asshole no problem, Bobby, the poltergeist ain't my issue."

It was a poltergeist. If Bobby said it was a poltergeist, it was a poltergeist. She'd been right. And as Dean got closer, Dad obviously couldn't see him in the shadows, so he should probably say something to alert Dad that he was here

"Obviously it's the fuckin' girl." Dad snapped, and Dean froze. "Shit, she just shows up again? On another weird fuckin' case, bein' right about what it is, sinkin' her claws into Dean-"

Dad stopped talking—Bobby was probably saying something Dean couldn't hear—and Dean's breathing was shallow. He shouldn't be eavesdropping. Dad would kill him, and he just shouldn't. He trusted Dad, and if this wasn't something Dad wanted to hear, it wasn't something he had to hear. But She hadn't sunken Her claws into him. She'd just scratched him over his brain and scarred him, but Dad couldn't see that. She just haunted him, and drove him mad, and made him want to-

"She's the one Dean's obsessed with."

Dean frowned. He was not obsessed with Her. 

"She's a hunter alright. That moroi case me and the boys worked-" There was a small pause. "Yeah, moroi. Freakin' nasty little vampire baby shits. She-" Dad huffed, and Dean could hear the muffled sound of Bobby's voice. It sounded urgent. 

Then Dad said Her full name into the speaker, and Dean could hear his frown. "You heard of her, Bobby?"

Bobby must have said no—there was no reason for him to know Her—but whatever he did say made Dad's hands grip the wheel with white knuckles.

"The hell you mean you have to go- Bobby-" John groaned, the click of his phone being closed snapping through the air and Dean swallowed. The call was over. Time to pretend he wasn’t a piece of fucking shit that had been invading Dad's privacy.

Dean moved out of the shadows and opened the car door, Dad barely waiting for him to be seated before he started talking.

"We got a poltergeist." He grunted, turning on the engine. "Let's go."

Dean blinked. "Go? Like, now?"

"Damn right, now." Dad shot him a raised brow. "Why, you fuckin' waiting for somethin'-"

"No, sir." Dean shook his head, and Dad nodded, still watching him carefully.

"You take care of the girl?"

"Uh, yeah." Dean hated that the words tasted rotten in his mouth. "She's gone."

Dad nodded. "Remember, son. No pair of tits are worth more-"

"Then family." Dean finished. He'd heard that sentence enough to recite it in his sleep. It didn't matter. She didn't matter. Dean felt like a fucking asshole, but She didn't matter. "I know, Dad."

"Good." Dad muttered, pulling out of the lot. "Let's kill this fuckin' poltergeist and get the hell out of here."

—————————

Bobby doesn't know you're here. He thinks you're in Louisiana still, dealing with the kelpie.

You're not. You're in Illinois. Trying something on a poltergeist.

You'll tell him when you get home. Explain that you'd just wanted to test your ghost ritual again, and if you'd told that him before, he would've snapped that testing that stuff was dangerous, and the thing had already worked once, so there wasn't any goddamn reason to risk it again. 

And he was right. The rituals and spell and curses that had started to come to you in the dead of night—when it was just you and the White in the world, and the darkness became consuming—weren’t exactly safe to test on hunts. Not because of the rituals themselves, but because of the exposure. The danger of using magic where you could be discovered by another hunter. But you had to test them. You didn't know where they were coming from or how to stop them, but they always worked. You wake up and know that, if you said all these words and mixed these things together, you could make a veil between dead spirits and the living. A barrier that didn't kill the ghosts, but stopped them. A blockade that could be torn down, but bought you plenty of time and minimized any casualties. 

It was why Bobby wasn't stopping you. He insisted you stay far away from other hunters, and update him after every test to make sure you hadn't blown yourself up or worse, but he wasn't trying to hold you back. Convince you to just drown in the darkness until it eroded the White, and you lost control forever. But he still wouldn't be happy about the second test. And you could've justified it by pointing out that this was actually a poltergeist, so you'd had to figure out how to alter the ritual, but then you saw the Winchester's Impala in your motel parking lot. 

Which meant this it would be stupid to keep working the case. It meant you were in danger, because they were probably hunting the same poltergeist you were trying to do magical experiments on. 

Worse, it meant Dean was here.

And you're going to fucking scream.

He'd never left your brain. You haven't stopped moving, you never stop moving, but Dean has followed you everywhere. Into your head every second, still circling around his handsome face and pretty face and beautiful smile. Into the darkness when it started to slip out of you, fueled by an echo of unworthy and sick, edged with the phantom feeling of his body at your side.

He was in countless, lonely motel beds where you looked to the side and expected him to be there. He was on the curb when you were covered in grime and monster guts, and you looked up to find the shadow above you only a shadow. He was in your bag, because you’d never thrown out his shirt. It didn’t smell like him anymore—he was there too, in wet grass in the spring and the spice of cheap aftershave on a man in a bar—but you were still holding onto it. Holding onto Dean.

You weren’t sure what could make you let go. You’d even started to fish for information about him from Bobby with careful questions about the Winchesters. What they usually hunted, so you could avoid them. What Sam and Dean were like, in case you ever ran into them, so you’d know what to expect. If they always hunted with John, or if they ever went off on their own. Bobby would always give you a strange look and a short answer—whatever they ran into, they’re good boys in the same shit situation as every other hunter, and John never let them hunt alone—but you’d pieced more from what you already knew. Sam hated hunting, and Dean loved it, their relationship with John was complicated—you could’ve gotten that one yourself—and Dean was what Bobby called eager with women.

He slept around. He’d probably been trying to sleep with you, and given up when he realized that you weren’t easy. That you were tired and rough and so, so angry all the time. That you might be beautiful, but the same was a thunderstorm is beautiful. The same was a statue is beautiful.

Something you shouldn’t touch. Something you shouldn’t try to hold, even for a night.

Something that wasn’t worth Dean Winchester time. Something he’d seen, turned away from, and then left you. He’d left you because he’d seen you for what you were, and he hadn’t wanted anything from you in the first place, but he’d still fucking left you. And you hated him for that, because you’d been ready to offer him whatever he wanted. Against all reason and logic and caution, you’d wanted him more than you could describe. 

And against all your willpower, you couldn’t let go of him. Because you’d seen the Impala in the parking lot—the one you’d been searching for on every highway, in every small town and city—and the force of Dean is here had hit you like a hurricane. Everything had felt so fucking big, and you couldn’t hold onto the darkness in your body as your breathing became heavy and you attempted to keep yourself together. Nails digging into your skin as the wind howled through your room, the peeled paint on the walls cowering from you as your attention became vigilant, everything crashing back down into you when you bit down, and a lightbulb shattered across the room.

You’d avoided him. You’d hidden in crowds on the street when you saw him, and ducked behind shelves when he entered the corner store. You’d kept your shades angled so you could see the parking lot, and pushed down the way the White howled at the sight of him coming and going. You’d planned to handle the hunt in silence, and then just go.

The house owner was a sweet hippy who agreed to let you do the ritual when you told her she had the aura of a swan. You’d give it a few days after to ensure the barrier could hold, get rid of the poltergeist for good, and then leave without the Winchester’s ever even knowing you were here.

Then you’d seen Dean in the woods, and you couldn’t resist talking to him. He’d seen you anyway, so there wasn’t anything left to lose. And he’d still been so pretty, and your knees still felt weak, and the White still whined for him no matter how much of a dick he was being. It was insufferable, you’d left with darkness eating at your blood, and you’d looked back. You couldn’t stop looking back. Every time you had run on the street you’d turned around to see if he was frowning in adorable confusion around the busy sidewalks. When he was in the parking lot you’d checked to see if he was still pretty, even though you knew he would be. Of course he would be. He was an asshole like that. 

You’d looked back outside of the poltergeist house because you had to. You had to see if he was real or just another flickering dream, and you couldn’t resist the desire to see him—staring at you on the street and suffocating you with that same smell from last year—one more time. It’s why you hadn’t skipped town right after. It’s why you’d stayed so long in the bar. You just fucking had to. You could fight against his winks and grins and smooth words, making you smile when you hated him, making you laugh when you should’ve been running. It had seemed—for whatever strange reason—that Dean hadn’t told John you were here, but he definitely knew now, and you were certainly in very real danger. But Dean had carved you open again, and you’d stayed in that stupid booth until he’d given you a good reason to leave.

And it was a great reason. It would’ve been kinder to shoot you in the temple than say that. At least he would’ve killed you, and you wouldn’t have had to wage this war in your body. The war between your hatred of him, and how you want to go back. He’s such a fucking asshole, but you still want to turn around and go back. To ask him why he left, why he cares, how he seems to know your every raw nerve and if he's still feels this too. If he felt it before. 

You don't really want to know that last one. Because if he felt it before, that means he felt it and left. That he can feel it now and hates you for it. 

Because he does hate you. If it wasn't in his words, it was all over his face. How he’d laughed like you were just a silly little girl. How he’d looked right into you like he could see the darkness. How he’d grinned at you like a wolf, like he wanted to rip you apart. He sees what you are, and he despises it.

And you were fine with that. You despise him. He was an arrogant, smug, dickish, charming, controlling, annoying, handsome, caring, selfish, funny, sexy, adorable, funny, strong, sweet-

God fucking damnit. He was an asshole. He'd left you, he hated you, and you wouldn't fall for the cowboy-in-shining-leather thing again. You were going to take care of this poltergeist now, and leave town right after. Dean and John could be here another week trying to figure out if it was even dead for all you cared. You just had to go. Before this all got worse.

You've barely parked when your phone starts to buzz. You don’t look at the contact when you decline it—you don’t have the time—but then it just starts buzzing again. 

It’s Bobby.

You still don’t answer. If he’s in danger, he wouldn’t call you. If it’s an urgent question, he can handle it himself. If it’s a non-urgent question, he can wait for this to be done. If he was dying-

You almost pick up the phone. The thought flashes through your brain, a small stone grows in your throat, and you reach for the phone with a frantic movement. You’re about the dial him back when the first message comes through, and you sigh in relief.

You better call me back now, kid, we need to talk.

Not dying. Can be dealt with later. You’ll call him back when you’re done, because this will be quick, and you’ll get through it. You always do.

You’d convinced the homeowner to get out of town for a few days, to stay with her sister until you were done. The purification ritual was in the trunk of your latest stolen car—you’d meddled with the ingredients, giving it an extra kick—and this would be quick. 

There’s no blur as you start. You’re alert for your barrier to break—keeping in iron poker in your hands—but there’s no disturbance, so you just go through the motions. The basement is finished in five minutes, the first floor in ten, and you’ve only got two bags left when glass shatters downstairs, and the blur starts to cloud your head. Something cracked in the ritual, maybe because you’re almost done, but now you have to fight-

“Dean, you got the guns?”

You freeze as John Winchester’s voice sounds from down the stairs, and everything becomes too sharp. There’s a creaking sound from downstairs, the darkness is starting to spread up your spine and over the white popcorn ceilings of the house, you’re fucked, and the White is reaching out to-

“I got it, Dad, but I thought poltergeists-“

“Son of a bitch wants attention.” John snaps over Dean, and you might crush the bag in your hand. “We’re gonna give him some until he shows himself, and we find the asshole’s remains and burn them.”

This is bad. That’s not how poltergeists work at all—you’re a little shocked John thinks it is—and they’re going to fuck up your barrier, and you can’t tell them they’ll fuck up the barrier or John will turn one of those guns on you-

“Is the hippy chick home?” Dean asks, snapping you out of your panic as the White howls inside you. “I can deal with her while you take care of-“

“No need. Car ain’t in the driveway.” There’s a pause, and you can hear them shuffling downstairs. “Plus I know how you deal with the vics, Dean. We don’t need that right now.”

Something’s bitter in your mouth that has no right to be there, and no right to vanish at Dean’s grumbled words.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Dad-“

“I don’t care how you meant it. Focus up so we can get this shit done.”

There’s another few muffled sounds, an unmistakable click of a gun, and you’re moving before you think better of it. 

“Stop!” You’re almost shrieking—dropping the poker and shoving your last two bags into your pockets as you run down the stairs—and barely stop your body from colliding with Dean’s in the entrance hallway.

“What the fuckin’ hell are you doin’?!“ John’s roar makes you flinch, his rifle aimed right at your head. You take a stumbling step back as darkness wraps around your hands and your heart kicks into a rapid, frantic rhythm you can hear in your ears. John can see you. He’s going to kill you. You going to die, and they’ll burn your body, and shit you never called Bobby but the darkness is going to burst out of you and John’s going to kill you-

A hand steadies you by your shoulders, grass and spice and leather ease the darkness down, and you wish you didn’t relax into the warmth of behind you, that the pretty, rolling voice a little over your head didn’t soothe your panic.

“Woah, Dad, it’s just-“ Dean says your name, and John scoffs, not lowering his gun.

“I know who it is, Dean, that ain’t my issue.” John’s eyes narrow on you, hatred painted all over his face. It’s worse than Dean’s somehow. There’s something pure about it, like John didn’t have to look into you to see what an atrocity you are. He just senses it. “Why the fuck are you here, girl.”

“I’m hunting my poltergeist.” You snap, forcing your voice to sound angry and not terrified, your face to be a mask of annoyed and not painted in dread. “What possible other reason could I have.”

“Could be looking at real estate.” Dean mumbles with a shrug, and he’s still touching you. You can’t help but glance back as you jerk away from him, and the expression on his face is unreadable. Guarded but cautious, like when he’d watched you and John snap at each other in the booth. Like he’s waiting for a bomb to go off. “I hear this is a good neighborhood.”

You give him a flat look. “This house is haunted.”

He shoots you a wink, clearly fueled by you not just ignoring him. “Won’t once we’re done with it-“

“Once I’m done with it.” You narrow your eyes at him. “This is my hunt, Winchester. I was here first.”

“Poltergeists don’t respect dibs, Princess.” Dean snaps. “And you don’t even have a freakin’ gun.”

“I don’t need a gun-“

Dean lets out a dry, shouting laugh. “I take back what I said earlier, you are stupid if you’re about to try and kill this thing without a freakin’ gun-“

“You’re stupid if you think I’m just going to let you fuck this up-“

“We’re saving your ass from getting whacked by a poltergeist, some gratitude might be nice-“

“You’re getting in my fucking way-“

“You’re-“

“Enough!” John’s shouts over Dean, and you both freeze. You hadn’t realized you’d been shouting, or how close Dean had gotten. You can see his every freckle, every shade of green in his eyes, how his lips are slightly parted so his breath fans over your face-

“I don’t want you two talkin’ unless it’s telling me where the poltergeist is.” John hisses, and you force your body away from Dean’s. “We’re killin’ this thing right fuckin’ now, got it?”

Dean nods, bowing his head slightly, and you just glare at John. All you have to do is get upstairs place the last two bags, and you’ll be fine. If agreeing to work with them does that, you’ll do it.

You split up. John goes to the basement, Dean takes the first floor, you rush upstairs. The bags are in your pants, and you’re so close, but John and Dean are waving around guns and talking about ganking the poltergeist, and it can definitely fucking hear them. The paintings shake on the walls as the temperature drops, and it’s trying break through. You get the first bag just as the lights begin to flicker, and you sprint down the hall to the last wall. Just one more and it will be done, and you can leave-

“Fuck-“ Dean shouts right as you reach the spot, and your blood goes cold. “Dad! It’s on me- shit-“ 

Then he roars your name, and you’re moving before you can think. Grabbing the poker, half-falling down the stairs, and reaching Dean just as his gun is yanked out of his hands by nothing at all. His eyes widen as they meet your, his mouth opens to say something and-

“Dean!” You can barely hear your own scream as he flies across the room, his head knocking on the counter. 

His body slumps, and you’re not in a blur. This is a rush. Everything is wide around you, there’s an airy chill in your lungs, and the darkness is pouring out of you as the lights grow too bright and the windows bang on a windless night. The darkness starts to ignite over your hands—a phantom flame you’re not sure is real, burning and stinging at your skin—you whirl around, and, on instinct alone, shove the air. There’s a high, shrill, horrible sound of pain as the air goes up in flames, and then it all comes down. The room grows warm, the house goes quiet, and the darkness returns to you without a fight.

And Dean’s still slumped on the floor. 

“Dean!” You fall to your knees at his side—rolling his face to the side, grabbing his hand to take a pulse—and only notice John as he silently joins you, taking Dean’s face between his hands with a set jaw. 

You don’t know how long he’s been there.

You don’t know what he saw.

“What the hell-“

“Poltergeist.” You whisper, watching John examine Dean’s head. “Threw him across the room.”

John scowls. “You just let this shit happen-“

“I didn’t- I got the asshole.” You hiss, clawing at the skin near your nail until it stings. “House purification ritual, which I was already doing before! Nothing would’ve happened at all if you didn’t jump in with fucking guns-“

“Just-“ John raises his hand, and you fall silent. You’re still holding Dean’s hand. You don’t let it go.

“He’s okay.” You mumble, mostly for yourself. Mostly to fight the bile in your throat at the sight of him, sweaty and pale, not bleeding but moving, eyes fluttering but not waking up. “He’s gonna be okay.”

You almost miss John’s strange look. You almost forget about the axe over your head, and how he might know what you are. All you can really think about is Dean. You barely hear John order you to stay here while he grabs the car, and it feels a little pointless. You would’ve stayed here no matter what. 

He’s groaning. Dean keeping making low noises of pain, and his hand keeps flexing in yours, but he’s breathing. Shallow breathes, but he’s breathing. And he’ll be okay. He has to be okay. It’s just a Poltergeist, not even a strong one, and he’s young and strong, and he’ll be okay. Your breathing has become a little uneven, and you can feel the White rioting and bellowing inside you as he shudders slightly, but he’ll be okay. You won’t let him not be. He feels clammy when you press your hand to his brow—your fingers brush his hair, and it’s soft, and that’s not important but you’re going to think about it for a million years—so you shrug off your own jacket and toss it over his body. He’s still holding onto you, so you don’t drop his hand. When John gets back you loop his arm over your shoulders, your own arm around his waist, and haul his dead-weight up until John grabs the other side. 

When you reach the Impala—you working in silence with John to slide him carefully into the backseat—he clings to you. John drops his arm and it shoots over your stomach, his head falling onto your chest as he makes another low grunt of pain. And there’s such little color on his face, and he’s still shuddering when you move the jacket back over him, and you could fix this. You’ve never healed anyone before, but you could. You can feel the darkness moving into the tips of your fingers and over your heart as Dean takes a stuttered breath, and you have to-

“Get out.”

You look up and find that John has walked around the car and opened your door. “I-“

“Leave.” John grunts, not even sparing you glance as he speaks. “Now.”

You shake your head, and it’s a weak movement. There’s that feral instinct of survive still in your bones, but it’s not bigger than Dean. Nothing’s bigger than Dean. “No, I-“

“I ain’t askin’-“

“It’s not up to you-“

“My car. My rules.” John’s words sound pushed through his teeth. “Out.”

“I,” you swallow, glancing back down to Dean. “I could help-“

“You’ve done enough.“

“I could fix him!” You shout, and your sounds pleading. You feel like you’re pleading. It’s pathetic, and you don’t care because Dean makes a low, strained noise and you feel like you’re choking. “I could-“

“Listen to me very fuckin’ closely.” John sneers your full name, finally lowering down to meet your gaze. “The out of my fuckin’ car, and stay the hell away from my son. I don’t need you fixin’ him, because he’s not broken, and if he was the last thing he needs is some high horse brat making him weak.”

There’s a high ringing in your ears, and your voice is soft. “I-“

“He’d be fine if you hadn’t interfered with our work.” John snaps. “You’re out of your little pond, girl, and if I ever see you distractin’ Dean or fuckin’ with his brain again, I’ll put a bullet in yours. Got it?”

You nod, something vast and numb spreading over your chest as you carefully climb out of the car—making sure not to disturb Dean, or make his head worse—and leave John without another word. But you look back. You can’t help yourself from turning and watching the Impala pull away, from digging your nails into your skin as you cling to yourself until their headlights vanish around a corner. 

You’re already packed. Everything’s in your car—clothing, tools, books, makeup and hygiene products, first aid kit—and you could just drive out of town, but you don’t. You toss the last purification ritual bag into the truck, sit behind the wheel, just stare into the darkness.

You need to call Bobby. You need to go. John wouldn’t kill you with an injured Dean to care for, but he’d seen. He had to have seen. And not leaving now would be a death sentence. 

But you just sit in the car. Sit in the cancerous darkness that’s alight in your body, the image of Dean’s pained features burned into your eyes, flashing in front of you whenever you blink. All that boiling hatred for Dean is gone. Evaporated into thin air, leaving you ill and pained and empty. John was right. You hadn’t been fast enough, and Dean got hurt. Your barrier against the poltergeist made it violent, and Dean got hurt. You’re the sick one. It’s why he left to begin with. 

He was better for it. He didn’t need you—no one needed you—and John’s threat hadn’t been empty, so you need to drive away and never look back.

And yet you end up in the motel parking lot. Hunched in your seat as you wait for just a little proof that Dean’s okay. That you hadn’t held him and shattered him, like he’d shattered you. You’re there until the sun breaks the sky, until it’s beating over your head and you have to crack the windows. 

You’re there when your phone starts to ring, and you realize you’d forgotten to call Bobby.

You’ve barely picked up when he starts shouting, and you flinch away from the speaker. 

He uses your full name. First, middle, and Singer. He only uses your full name when he’s proud of you, or furious. And this feels more like the latter. You’re in trouble.

“You wanna tell me,” he hisses. “Why John fuckin’ Winchester knows who you are?”

“I, uh-” You swallow, twisting a ring with your thumb. “I don’t-“

“And I ain’t gonna buy your bullshit, kid, that shit doesn’t work on me.”

You sigh. “Bobby, look-“

“No, you look. I didn’t teach you to be a goddamn idjit dumbass,” he snaps your name, and you curl a little further into your seat. “You know what he’d do to ya’. Shit, what are you plannin’ on doin’ if you have a slip? If he sees that hoodoo shit happen?”

“Um, he might have already seen it.”

There’s silence on the other end for a long second, then a low, “What.”

“We just finished a poltergeist case.” You mumble, hoping he’s too angry to catch onto the why are you on a poltergeist case part. “And it attacked Dean. And I killed it.”

Bobby says your name slowly. “How the hell did ya’ kill a-“

“With my hands. I just, um, burned it.” You take a long breath. “And I think John saw.”

“And he just let ya’ off the fuckin’ hook-“

“Dean got hurt.” You whisper, and the words sting your tongue. “He was focused on that.”

“Balls.” Bobby mutters, and you can picture the frown on his face. “Well, you’re outta there now, we can-“

“No.” You sigh. “I can’t go, I have to-“ You cut yourself off, because it sounds stupid in your head. You do not have to make sure Dean’s okay. He hates you, everything logical in your brain says that you should be remembering how to hate him any time soon, and he’s not yours tocare about. John made that clear with his threat. Dean made it clear by leaving. But you’re still in the parking lot. And you still have to make sure Dean’s okay.

Bobby says your name through the phone, his voice slow. “You gonna tell me what happened last year. On that moroi hunt.”

“I ran into the Winchesters-“

“I ain’t slow, kid, I worked that part out. What happened that made you call me and flop around the house like a widowed fish for a week.”

You bring your knees up to your chest, shaking your head. “It’s… I can’t-“

“What if I ask if that was Dean’s shirt.” Bobby grunts. “That you were wearin’.”

“Yeah.” You drop your head back on the seat, letting out a heavy exhale. “It-“ 

You freeze, watching Dean finally step outside like he’s been summoned. He’s walking slowly, but walking, and he seems really okay, and he’s looking around the parking lot with a frown-‘

Shit.

You drop down in your seat, out of the view of the parking lot, and pray he didn’t see you.

“Bobby, I gotta-“

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere, we still got some shit to sort out-“

“I’ll come right home.” You keep your voice hushed, in case it could carry on the wind. “And you can yell at me there.”

Bobby sighs. “I wasn’t gonna yell-“

“Yeah you were-“

“No-“

“Lying is a sin, Bobby.” You smile, carefully pulling the car keys out of your jacket. “You’re not a very good role model-“

“Well, I’m gonna fuckin’ yell at ‘ya now!” He snaps, but you can hear the slight amusement in his voice. “Get home quick, and we’ll deal with this. John don’t know you’re with me, and unless Dean needs a week after your hunt-“

“I think he’s fine.” You mumble, craning your head up to see Dean gone from the lot. “I’ll be safe at home.”

“Not if I kill ya’ for pullin’ this shit on an old man.” Bobby grunts, and you grin he falls silent, a long moment of static before- “You okay, kiddo?”

“I’m okay.” You mumble, and you’re not, but you will be. You always are. “And I’m really sorry for-“

“Apologizin’ ain’t gonna help us,” Bobby mutters. “Get home, and keep outta trouble till we sort this.”

You nod. “I will.”

You’ll try. Dean’s still pulling at you in your chest and consuming your head, but you’ll try. If only for Bobby’s sanity, you’ll really try.

You’ll pretend you don’t stay in the lot for a minute longer to watch Dean walk back to his room, that you don’t glance back at the room as you drive away, and you’ll keep yourself away of trouble. 

Away from Dean.

End Note: I’d say this story is about to be John vs Bobby on who’s a better dad, but that would be like making a mouse (John) fight a dragon (Bobby).

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

Taglist (If you want to be added, please fill out the form!)

@brtodd @artemys-ackles @sthefferrete @lyarr24 @deansbbyx

@bakugotypecrashout @dailybakugocrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @Zuberweirrd @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco

@ambiguous-avery @elle14-blog1 @impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @heyimolive

@itsdearapril @speedypersonawhispers @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused @kamisobsessed

[the-fiction-witch]

Bracken Bunny P3

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Davos Blackwood Couple - Davos X Reader Reader - (OC) Lady Y/n Bracken Rating - 18 + nudity / non con / eating out / orgasm / forced orgasm Word Count - 1178

Requested -

Anonymous asked: Bracken bunny part 3? Por favor? 👀👀👀👀👀 tiredsleepyhead asked: I hope there's another part of bracken bunny.... it's soooooooo good ..please say there's more Anonymous asked: Omg I need a part 3 to Bracken Bunny. The story is getting crazier each time I read it Anonymous asked: Whenever you can, can you please make a part 3 for Davos Blackwood? The story is so juicy, I gotta see if the family is gonna pay up or not 🤣🖤 fr tho if you’re down to make a part 3 I’ll be so happy. bruhxtechnoblade part 3 pleaseeee go-on-eat-shrooms Part 333³333 fortunatelyshadowypirate Plsssssssss part 3 hardkiddonut I need 1 million more updates of this😖 thornsandtulips Part 3 please 😔 liafiction we need part 3!! cant-control-the-crazy I'd read a novel of this, pleeeease do more?

I did my best to find a way to escape but found myself unable to even get out of the chains. But still, I tried no matter how much I failed, and after a good while the door opened and Davos returned. Immediately I tried to weasel my way out of the chains but he just smirked and came over grabbing my hip hard and digging his nails into my tender flesh,

"Miss me my little bracken bunny," he asked with a coy smile,

"No." I spat,

"Awww come now, I know you did," he smirked "I sent the raven, with a nice long list of... prices," he smirked,

"Prices?"

"For bits of you. I'm sure we'll go back and forth a few times to find out how much they are willing to pay, and just which bits they value most." He smirked, "I have a feeling..." He whispered, "You're cunt is going to be a hot bit of debate," He growled biting my ear lobe and slapping my ass,

"You're a bastard!" "You wish I was," he chuckled, "No, true born. And Heir to Raventree Hall... So, that makes me your lord."

"It makes you a fuck-" I began but he clamped a hand over my mouth,

"Quiet now," he demanded, he unlocked my chains and grabbed me by the neck forcing me down onto the bed on my back, meeting his smirking face, "...You know little bracken bunny, I've been sucking on my fingers since I left you," he growled taking my hands and pinning them to the sheets restaining them above my head with the chains, "you just taste so good. I think... I'm getting hungry," he purred taking my ankles in his hands and forcing my legs open as far as they could go so much it was painful, I squealed but he had no care for me, my pain or my dignity... or what little remained of it. "and I want to feast." He demanded licking his lips,

"Don't. You. Dare." I grit my teeth,

"I love how you still think you have a choice," He laughed down at me,

Davos wasted no time thereafter forcing my ankles over his shoulders, I tried to scream, squeal and squirm but that only amused him and made his sick smile grow, he dug his nails hard into my thighs flesh keeping them as wide as physically possible.

He first pressed tender kisses to my lower stomach and my mound, kissing slowly and delicately, he made a point to lick slowly over both lips before moving to kiss down my thighs nibbling on the skin as with each kiss he got more intense and violent, he reached my knee so swapped to the other leg and began the kisses down closer and closer to me with each harsh and erratic so much so when he reached my lips once more he bit my thigh hard enough to make me scream out, but still the offered me no mercy.

He rubbed his nose between my folds before he flicked out his tongue between them moving his flat tongue in a long and purposeful stroke from clit to core which caused him to salivate,

I whined and squirmed trying to escape his grip but he held me far too tight,

"Such a squirmy little bunny," he chuckled, "Why? You know what I'm going to do to you, you know I'll make you feel good."

"Let me go!" I screamed,

"Ohh I'll let you go, when your family pays for you. And not until." He growled swirling the taste around his tongue as he used his thumbs on my lips to force them as far as they'd go,

I felt so exposed, so utterly at his mercy, all I could do was scream and try to fight against his grip and try desperately not to let my body react the way it wanted to as he mercilessly began to lap at my clit, I screamed and begged for mercy but I was ignored,

"Davos Please!"

"Ah ah ah." He growled, "Properly my little bracken bunny."

"Lord Blackwood Please! Have mercy!" I begged,

He chuckled sealing his lips around my clit and sucking hard often swirling his tounge in circles as he works,

I screamed and whined, writhing against the restraints unable to control my body,

"Awww look at this, so wet." He growled, "Glistening," he growled licking my wetness from my folds, "A positively dripping cunt my little bracken bunny," He teased

"Fuck-" I gasped, "My - My lord-"

"Awww you're adorable," he growled as he slipped his tongue down and inside me,

"AHhhhhhh!" I screamed,

He smirked and fucked me with his tongue fast and hard with rapid thrusts,

"Please! Please no more Davos!"

"Humm alright, but I still wanna watch you cum," he growled returning to kissing and licking my clit with fluttering licks and gentle sucks,

I was already beyond overstimulation from earlier but he wouldn't take no for an answer, "Moan my name. When you cum..." He whispered against my core,

"...yes my lord,"

"No... My name." he growlers as he makes eye contact,

I nodded already feeling my orgasm building once more, the throbbing too hard to ignore as he worked on my swollen clit, his hand coming from my thigh to push his fingers knuckle deep inside me only making me scream even louder, throwing my head back, tears slipping from my eyes, and my body squirming trying to release this pleasure somehow as the pleasure builds, My fingers grip desperately to the sheets of the bed, my screams and moans somehow becoming the same, my hips buck up towards his lips which only makes him smirk more and nibble against my skin as he sucks,

he savoured my reactions and only moved his fingers at a faster pace making sure to keep his sucks and his thrusts at the same pace,

I felt my body tremble and quiver unable to hold back my body from squirting as I balanced on the very edge of thrill, until it suddenly hit, one thrust of his fingers timed with a suck on my clit and that was it my whole body flooded with pleasure, I squirted and squeezed around his fingers, my whole body trembling and shaking as the shockwaves rush though my vision slightly blurring,

"DAVOS!" I screamed,

His eyes met mine as he gradually slowed to let me ride it out, my body convulsing and jumping with the aftershocks but he made sure to milk every last second for me until my body went limp and I gasped desperately, "Perfect my little bracken bunny," he smiled licking his chin where my squirt dripped down his face, "...Too perfect," He growled,

I gasped a little confused barely any energy left as I looked at him,

He smirked and kneeled on the bed with his head high as he unlaced his britches and pulled out his long stiff cock already quivering and dripping with precum. "Look what you've done to me little bunny," He gasped, "You were far too perfect for me... now your lord needs attending too," He growled, "So... Come here little bunny." 

Commissions here

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 16

So... in my defense I was really sick yesterday and accidentally scheduled the post for 10:17am and snuck in chapter 16. And I didn't even realize it until the other chapter had several likes, comments, and reblogs.

So I'm posting this now as a sort "Sorry I fucked up! Enjoy an extra chapter on me!" type thing!

In this we have Steve's no good, horrible, rotten bad day and the end of Act 2.

Also? Cliffhanger!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

~

Steve was feeling all the stares from both his fellow employees and the customers. He felt like shrinking in on himself every time it happened. It was like they couldn’t figure out what was so wrong with him that his dad would chase him out of town. Because most of the town didn’t know.

Clint Harrington had seen to that. Oh, his buddies knew, his wife’s sewing circle and club ladies knew, but the lessers? Nah, they only heard rumors. And whoo boy did Steve hear some wild ones.

Like that he had been caught in an orgy, or that he been dealing drugs out of the pool house or even that he had been caught with an underaged girl.

Thankfully most of the people didn’t believe that one one bit. But it was near thing and if Steve got his hands on Hank Tippets he was going to wring the man’s neck for that rumor.

It was Robin’s day off, and while usually the boss had them work together, Steve was with three other kids.

Three kids who had been slacking all day, making Steve handle the rush and refilling both the ice cream and toppings, and generally just being asses of themselves.

He was on his last nerve.

“Okay, guys!” Steve huffed putting his hands on his hips. “I’m all for slacking, but I am not the only capable of getting out the ice cream. It’s someone else’s turn!”

The two girls rolled their eyes but did what they were told. The boy on the other hand refused to budge.

“Just because you’re older,” he huffed, grabbing a handful of M&Ms and just shoving them in his face, “doesn’t mean you get to boss us around, man. Go back to whatever bridge you crawled out of.”

Steve’s lip curled. “That’s gross.” He rolled his eyes and put one hand on his hip. “And besides I didn’t crawl out from under a bridge, you did. Look at you. You’re hair is greasy, you smell like you haven’t bathed in years, and you have a stain on your shorts I don’t even want to think of what that is.”

“It’s chocolate,” the kid said with a sneer. “So if you aren’t living under a bridge then where are you living?”

Alarm bells went off in Steve’s head. “The only address anyone needs is my PO Box where to send my paycheck.” He shrugged. “Other than that, why do you care? What are you the Feds?”

The kid rolled his eyes at that and walked away. Steve shook his head. He just had to keep his head down and his mouth shut until he found something else.

Suddenly both girls were giggling and shushing each other.

“Hey, Steve can you come here for a moment?” the one called out. “I think the door to the freezer is stuck.”

Steve sighed and went to the back area, but as soon as he opened the door, a bucket of warm, melted strawberry ice cream fell on top of him. It hit the side of his head, knocking the hat off and clattered to the ground. He was covered head to toe in a gooey, sticky mess. It was in his hair and in his shoes and his socks were drenched.

Suddenly laughter filled his ears as he realized what had happened. This had been their plan all day. To get him annoyed enough that he would just barge through and get it dumped on him. He felt like fucking Sissy Spacek in ‘Carrie’.

Hot tears welled up as he tore off apron, stomping on the stupid hat and storming out of there. All the to calls of telling to come back, that it was all a joke, that he needed to lighten up.

He dashed off to his car, leaving behind a trial of melted ice cream. He tried to put the key in the door, but his hands shook too bad. He was forced to sit next to the car as he sobbed.

A man came up to him, waving his hands and shouting. “You there! Get away from that car! That mess will ruin the paint job!”

Steve looked up at him in shock. “But it’s my car!” he protested and showed him the keys. “See?”

“You’ve clearly stolen this car!” the man bellowed. “I’m going to call the police!” He made a grab for the keys but Steve was faster. They wrestled for them.

“Get off me!” he cried. “Help!”

Suddenly the man was being pulled off of Steve and the sense of relief he felt when he heard Hopper’s growling voice asking what the hell was going on, was palpable.

“This boy stole this car!” the man howled, still trying to get to Steve and take the key.

Hopper, who was dressed for work, leaned down to look closely at him. “Harrington? Is that you under all that goop?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said, lifting his tear stained face up at the police chief. “My coworkers dumped old and melted ice cream on me and I was just trying to go home.”

Hopper sighed. He shook the man he pulled off of Steve. “That’s his car and if you don’t stop your screaming I’m taking you in for assault and attempted theft.”

The man’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to get away from Steve and Hopper.

Hopper turned back to Steve. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you into your car so you can go home and clean off.” He took the keys from Steve and unlocked the door. “Now drive real careful, all right? Don’t want you in an accident because you’re too emotional to drive.”

Steve nodded. He got to his feet and drove off, clearly being mindful of his state of mind, taking time to do things he wouldn’t normally think about.

Now to go raise fucking Cain with the manager of Scoops Ahoy.

~

The kids were still doubled over with laughter when Hopper came storming into the store.

“You kid!” he barked causing all of them to stop laughing and stand up straight. He peered at the name tag. “Kyle. Get a mop and a bucket and you mop every inch of the mall that has even one drop of that pink goop.”

Kyle opened his mouth to argue but closed it when Hopper glared at him. He ran to grab the mop and bucket and started with mess in front of the store.

“You two,” Hopper growled, “Close the store now. This the scene of a crime. An assault. I will also need the number to the owner or manager. And I mean I want it yesterday.��

The first girl whose name tag read Mary hurried to pull the front gate closed most of the way. Enough to show they were closed, but open enough so Kyle could get back in.

The other girl crossed her arms and scowled at Hopper. Her name tag said Linda. “No one’s been assaulted. We’ve been here the whole time, we would have seen something like that.”

The gate rattled as Kyle forced his way back in with the bucket and mop. Hopper looked over his shoulder.

“Good,” he huffed in annoyance, “you’re all here. That means I don’t have to repeat myself. I’m referring to the assault on Steve Harrington. Dropping a bucket of that size, filled with melted ice cream could have seriously hurt him. What would you lot have done if the bucket had his his head dead on and knocked him unconscious?”

Kyle scoffed. “Like that could happen. Not!”

“Yeah, kid,” Hopper growled, “you a cop or firefighter or even EMT? You some Doogie Howser or some shit? Because if you’re not any of that then you don’t get to tell me what’s possible or not.”

Kyle gulped and looked away as the girls eyes went wide.

“We weren’t trying to hurt him,” Mary insisted. “We were only trying to humiliate him a little. I mean have you seen that fancy car of his. He doesn’t need this job. We do.”

“It doesn’t matter why he’s working here,” Hopper said gruffly. “He was hired to do the fucking job, just leave him alone. You didn’t even have to like him. Just. Not that.”

Hopper called the manager and he was over in a heartbeat. He spotted the gate down first and then splattered mess everywhere.

“What the hell has happened here?” the man shrieked. He spotted Hopper and first he went deathly pale and then he went bright red. “I want to know the meaning of all this!” He yanked the gate up and slipped inside.

Hopper walked up to him. “Mr. Bauman, I’m Chief Hopper and three of your employees set up a bucket trap filled with bad strawberry ice cream, causing it dump all over a fourth employee’s head. A Steve Harrington. I am taking the three kids in for questioning and if I feel it’s serious enough, pressing charges on Harrington’s behalf.”

Murray straightened his back and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Now see here. You have no proof they did anything of the sort. Just Steve’s word.”

Hopper advanced on him, like a panther seeking its prey, but Murray didn’t even flinch. “You’ve got cameras in his place right?”

Suddenly Linda was running for the manager’s office, but Hopper’s voice cracked out like a whip. “You touch that tape and I will absolutely haul your ass in for tampering with evidence.”

Linda skidded to a stop and Murray stared at her agape. “What the honest fuck?”

“I’m gonna take that as an admission of guilt,” Hopper said, narrowing his eyes at her.

Linda ducked her head and slowly walked back to stand next to Mary and Kyle, her hands clasped in front of her.

“I’ll look at the tape and bring it over to the sheriff’s station,” Murray vowed. He turned the three stooges. “And if I find anything on that tape that even so much as hints you did what Chief Hopper is suggesting. Don’t bother coming back into work. Because you’re fired. And I’ll make sure no one in this mall will hire you.”

Hopper nodded at Murray and then turned to the kids. “Now I don’t have enough handcuffs for all of ya, but I’m about to get really creative.”

~

Steve came home and just stripped his uniform off and just face planted into the bed. He didn’t care about his hair or that he was still covered goop. He just wanted to bury himself under the blankets and never emerge.

He must have fallen asleep because he woken up by Robin on the phone.

“No, Mom,” she hissed. “I don’t care what you say. I’m not going back to working at Scoops. Not after what they did to Steve. And I’m not quitting the Corroded Coffin job. He needs me.”

She paused for a moment. “Nope there is nothing you can do to change my mind. Look there’s another call coming through. Chief Hopper said he’d call with more information.”

Robin slammed the phone down and muttered, “Oh yeah, I’m so grounded. Worth it, though.” The phone rang immediately and she picked it up. “Chief Hopper. No, he’s still sleeping. I would be too after after everything he’s gone through.”

She listened for awhile, putting in the appropriate hum where required.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him,” she said. “I think he’s waking up. Did you want to him? Not a problem. Thank you.”

Steve gave up all pretense of sleep and sat up, rubbing his eyes. His arm was still sticky and gross but he didn’t care.

“I’d tell you to cover up,” Robin said with a grimace, gesturing to all of him, “but you don’t have to.”

He looked down at himself and realized that he had fallen asleep on the covers in just his underwear and socks. “Oh. Sorry.” He pulled a pillow over his junk and stared up at her.

“So as you could probably guess, that was Chief Hopper,” she said. “He said to tell you that he gave each of the perpetrators a little scare down at the station and made their parents come get them. The dude that tried to assault you about your car, was picked up later for erratic driving and given a ticket. Sgt. Callahan pegged him as the guy because he still had ice cream all down the front of his expensive suit and tie.”

“Good,” Steve said dryly. “Bastard. I was literally sobbing my guts out and he was more concerned with the paint job.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “Karma bit his ass hard.”

She sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about what happened. I know it’s not my fault or anything, but it really sucks that they did that to you.”

“Thanks Robs,” he murmured.

She stood back up. “I’ve told everyone to leave you alone for a couple of days so when you’re ready to see people again, reach out okay?”

He nodded as she walked to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. She turned back. “Just one more thing. Hopper says he told Joyce about the bullying and she has said she’ll back off about the job now. So there’s at least that silver lining.”

“Yeah.”

~

Steve wasn’t sure how long he laid in bed, but it was obviously enough for a welfare check up from his friends on the staff.

This time it was only Bob and Rosa, but they both looked concerned.

“There is gunk everywhere,” Rosa huffed and waved her hand over his room. “The bed sheets stink and you are wallowing, mi amor.”

“You’ve got to at least shower,” Bob said with a note of distress in voice. “Give Rosa time to clean the room, change the bedding.”

Steve shook his head. There was no need to get out of bed ever again.

Then the door of the hotel room swung open and Bob and Rosa turned.

“Just who are you that you can just be walking in here?!” she bellowed, rounding on the stranger with her duster.

The man raised his hands up in surrender. “I’m Eddie Munson. I pay for the room.”

End of Act 2

~

Part 17 Part 18

Oops! When I took people off the list, I forgot to add the new people on!

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

8- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

9- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts @steddieislife

10- @fearieshadow @kultiras @thesecondfate @tartarusknight @genderless-spoon

[respectthepetty]

The Loyal Pin - Episode 5

To know if a dish is good or not, pay attention to the tortilla. If someone eats the entire plate and the tortilla, the dish is fine, but if someone eats the whole plate, then uses the tortilla to clean the plate, that dish is one of the best damn meals ever eaten.

The Loyal Pin is a plate cleaned with a tortilla.

Because just like Pin's amazing dishes, it's fucking delicious!

To begin this episode with Pin running away from Anin and locking herself in the room WHILE IN ANIN'S BLUE and Anin crying outside to be let in is exactly how I want my meal served!

Because Pin loves this Blue Beauty but she cannot bring herself to admit that such a love is possible.

So having Anin give her color and her love to Pin only to be left standing outside alone is the exact angst I needed from this sixteen-course meal.

Anin is making herself sick as she is quickly shut out, but all I know is Becky and Freen better win all of the awards because we are only five episodes in and I. Am. Invested!

Pin shows Anin she still cares by cooking her favorite meals, but she cannot bring herself to face her because she knows what is in her heart. Her pink is so light, it's almost white, yet her skirt is lines which shows Anin is always on her mind.

She is barely herself and the servants are running scared going as far as contemplating eating the food just so Pin will snap back to herself.

So by time her mother returns (still not in her color!), Pin has started turning into an AKA with the pink and green (This is a Greek-letter org joke, but I don't want no smoke from them very kind and fine ladies. They have phenomenal branding is all I'm saying, so good for them. Please and thank you.)

But, thankfully, Prik is a real one and quickly runs back to her princess upon her return only to find her talented and intelligent Blue Beauty passed out on the floor, so my girl runs to save the day.

Because Anin truly has made herself sick over Pin's rejection.

And her color-coded brother is freaking out already making arrangements for his sister-in-color and blood to move back into the big house immediately!

Luckily, Pin decides to take it upon herself to lift Anin's spirit, so Anin takes advantage of the situation and tries to lift some other things as well.

But that backfires and Pin reinforces that she feels nothing for Anin which makes Anin a different kind of blue.

And just like that, Anin loses her color!

She is putting on a brave face for her brother, but then she gets hits with even more bad news from her other color-coded brother.

Ueangfah's father has died!

But leave it up to the realest one in the house because Prik makes sure to always stay loyal to her beautiful and intelligent princess by spinning this dark tragedy into a golden opportunity to make Pin jealous! Sidenote: can we all appreciate the button on Looknam's top that is fighting for its life because it was all I could think about in this scene?

And BOOM, just like what I wanted to happen to that button, Pin snaps and is fully back in her pink color with a knife in her hand and jealously in her heart!

Sorry for your loss Ueangfah, but whatever gets the plot moving works with me.

Pin isn't afraid of what is in her heart anymore. She is a Pink Person once again in her floral skirt!

So once her mother returns (not in her color, so now I'm very worried!), Pin wears her pink skirt with lines for Anin and runs straight over to The Palace of Pines when she hears Anin is back.

Because even though Anin lost her color for a moment, she is as radiant as ever in a blue floral dress. It's clear her heart still belongs to Pin and @babyangelsky and I cheered!

But now it's time for Pin to give her heart to Anin (as well as a few other things).

And we finally got the title-relevant pins!

SO LET'S GO, LESBIANS! IT'S YOUR TIME TO THRIVE!

(well, until the angst returns again next week but until then . . .)

LET'S GO, LESBIANS!

[viktoriaashleyyx]

This is a pro Tamlin, anti Rhysand self insert revenge fic. All characters belong to SJM, but she wasn't treating them right. Tam x reader, Tam x Rhysands Sister (OC), First person narrative. This will also reference Elucien and Neris in the future but we aren't there yet. Contains slight violence, poisons, broken bones. Also profanity. I'm not sure what else to tw if I miss something let me know. This is my first fic. I honestly don't know how to find word count, but it's roughly 4 pages on word docs. Criticism welcome. Rhysands Sister is back and she's pissed. Rhysand gets his ass whooped and Tamlin gets shown love. Enjoy.

Ch 2. Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10

Tarquin BC

Chapter 1:

I crash landed on a stone surface. A balcony of sorts? It was well built if it was, considering how long I've been falling, I'm shocked I didn't crash right through it. I know now that making a deal with the gods is a lot like making a deal with a damn djin. 

“Who goes there??” A booming male voice barked. I could hear swords drawn. Fuck where am I? My ears were still ringing, vision blurred, and chest heavy from the impact. I blinked my eyes open to find a winged male looming over me. Another illyrian? Have I finally made it home? Fuck, then that means I am in the night court. Damnit, 7 fucking courts in Prythia and I just happen to land here. At my brother's court. 

This ones expression shifted from threatening to complete shock as his gaze landed on my eyes. “Sky?” 

At my brother's court and at his fucking house, Freya has a sick sense of humor. I slowly sat up, ignoring the hand the illyrian extended to me. 

“Your wing!” He gasped. So thats what that throbbing pain was. My wing seemed to have been snapped in the fall. “You need a healer, go get Madja” he commanded the other brute. 

“Don't bother” I dismissed, standing up slowly. I pulled a small glass vial out of my pocket, a healing potion, I always kept a few on hand, never know when you're gonna need it. I downed the bitter red liquid as I've done a thousand times and grabbed the dagger off my hip. I put the handle in my mouth and bit down on it as I grabbed my own wing and straightened out the bone. I held it right for about a minute until the potion worked its magic. It hurt like crazy but I was careful not to show these idiots, the fear and shock on their faces was satisfying if I am being honest. 

“I'm guessing you are Azriel and Cassian, though I can't tell which is which” I admitted, trying to seem just polite enough to leave. 

The one next to me spoke first “I'm Azriel, he's Cassian” okay, Azriel short hair, Cassian long hair “this is Mor and Amren and she is Feyre, High Lady of the Night Court” 

“So my brother is dead?” I had hoped my excitement would come off as concern. 

“No, no, they rule together, as equals” Cassian spoke

“Got it” this conversation is dragging. I need to leave. 

“It's so nice to meet Rhysands sister, we thought you were dead, I'd heard so much about you” Feyre gushed, “Rhys is out on important business at the moment but he should be back soon.” I had no use or interest in this small talk. 

“How old are you?” I looked at her as if to study the young thing in front of me. I was never good at pleasantries. I spent a good while in isolation and I tend to just blurt out the questions on my mind. 

“I am 21” Feyre replied sharply, yep I angered her with my lack of class. 

“Ew, 21 years? Ugh, my brother always did like them unreasonably young.” I'm just gonna keep going with it, hopefully she'll throw me out. 

“My age is not a disability” Feyre snapped. 

“It's adorable that you think that.” I'm in too deep. Oops. “Anyway, I am sorry I crashed into your home, I had little control, but I would like to leave now.”��

“You will apologize and bow to your high lady.” Cassian growled. Azriel stepped in front of the door. 

“She is not my high lady, I am not a citizen of your court, in fact, I am starting to feel like a prisoner.” It's not lost on me that I have bore the title of Queen, multiple times. In both cases I have dismantled the monarchy entirely, setting up a system in which the people vote on who leads them. Her title meant nothing to me. I bow to those deserving, not the one who rely solely on birthright. But she doesn't need to know this. I have more important things on my mind than to argue with a child "I will request one more time, you move and allow me to leave.” 

“Or what?” Azriel snapped. Unmoving. 

I did not want to show this much of my hand just yet, knowing this magic is not native to Prythia. But, if they want to twist my arm, so be it. A swirling purple circle opened up under me and I fell though, closing it quickly behind me. Portals were my favorite magic to do, in more cases than once it ensured my freedom.

Landing softly on my feet, I took in my surroundings. Cool air, rolling green hills, and the sounds of birds chirping in the distance, the Spring court. I was finally home. I eventually spotted the manor I spent so much of my time at as a child. Mother didn't make me train with the illyrians as she did my brother because she feared the treatment I would receive, also by the time I came along she had befriended the ladies of the other courts. We would spend weeks here at times, the children would play together and the mothers would discuss adult things we didn't care about. One of those things being alliances, and what better way to encourage an alliance between Spring and Night than by an arranged marriage.

I didn't mind them encouraging me to play with the cute blonde shapeshifter. He was kind and silly and only a couple years older than me. The other kids, mainly Autumn boys, were rough and volatile, and I just had no interest in what they considered fun. When I would get flustered by my wings knocking things over and getting in the way, the youngest Spring boy would remind me how beautiful they were, or how powerful they made me. The few times he would get a chance to practice his fiddle, I would dance and twirl, even if it was just the arpeggios. He was the 3rd born, and I the second and a girl, they didn't expect either of us to become High lord. 

The manor was about a mile away, I shot up another portal to the door, I was tired after all and, if I'm being honest, a little excited to be back.

When I reached the door it was broken in half and wide open. I creeped inside, cautiously. It looked to be abandoned. Dirt and dust coated the walls and floors, priceless artifacts shattered and books thrown from the shelves. I noticed claw marks in the furniture. “Please just be alive, after everything, I can’t be too late.” I whispered to myself. My heart sank as I looked around. 

Further into the dilapidated manor, I heard muffled voices coming from the kitchen. “Get out.” a tired weak growl. I ran to the entrance and just as I rounded the corner I saw my brother's boot kick in the chest of.. Tamlin. He began spitting up blood. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?” I hissed at my brother. 

Rhysand whipped around towards me, Tamlin looked up from the floor, eyes wide. 

“You're alive??” Rhysand darted towards me and I shoved him to the ground, rushing to Tamlins side. I knelt down beside him, held his head up from where he laid on the floor and pulled another glass vial out of my pocket. 

“It'll be bitter but swallow” I commanded gently. He didn't argue, he took the healing potion and I kissed his forehead as I laid him back down gently to address my brother. 

I stood tall. Nothing but pure rage in my violet eyes toward my brother. I always hated how much we looked alike. “THIS is the ‘important business’ you told your wife you had to take care of?” 

“I thought he killed you, he hurt my mate.” Rhysand admitted, no remorse. 

“And I finally make it back home after 300 years in exile to find you kicking mine” I state through gritted teeth. 

Rhysands eyes narrowed “your what?” It was obvious he wanted me to retract my statement, not going to happen. I didn't waste my time away, I knew I was more powerful than all of Prythia, I had to be, in case I had returned to Amarantha still terrorizing the place. 

“You heard me.” I maintained his gaze. In a split second he lunged for me and I reached my hand out into the small portal that appeared to my side. I grabbed one of the curved blades I was gifted by the warriors I previously trained with. These blades were specifically enchanted to drip poisons into the wounds they create. This one? Bloodbane, or as Prythians call it, “Faebane.” I slashed him across the face in a controlled move, just enough to leave a scar and allow the poison to sink in. 

He screamed in pain and looked back up at me. My eyes fell entirely black and cracks formed across my face as I spit my curse at him, lifting up his chin with my sword to make him look me in the eye “IF YOU, OR ANY OF YOUR LACKEYS, ENTER THE SPRING COURT BORDERS AGAIN, ALL OF THE AIR WILL BE DRAWN FROM YOUR LUNGS, AND IF YOU CANNOT GET OUT BEFORE YOU PASS OUT WE WILL FEED YOUR BODIES TO THE PIGS.” I relaxed, my face returning to normal. “Now get out.” A portal opened below him and he fell, leaving him only halfway up the steps to the House of Wind. 

I turned my attention back to Tamlin, he had sat up, the healing potion having done its job, looking up at me with a million different emotions on his face, shock, fear, concern, confusion and relief. I sat down next to him, draping my legs over his. He embraced me like I was going to disappear any minute. “You're alive. Or I am dead, I do not care as long as I have you in my arms again.” he sighed as we just sat there on the floor. 

I awoke the daemati powers I hardly used as I pressed my forehead to his. A gentle knock on the walls of his mind, and he allowed me in. I shared the memories I held dear for all these years, of us playing in the fields of Spring, the days he would spend with me in the gallery his mother gifted me, watching me paint, the mischief we would get into and the giggles we would share. His face relaxed into a soft smile as I kissed his cheek.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

@ladythornofrivia asked to be tagged❤️

[lovelywritinglady]

hi can i recwest a uzui x reader where uzui have a argment and gat a divors and yn is pregnet years later when the child and he rillast that it is his child and has a tak whif yn and trase to fics everifing

if you canpleas do thak you and have a grat day

I’d love to!💜

Mistakes

Tengen Uzui x fem!Reader

You and Tengen got into a heated argument after a demon hunt gone wrong. He says some extremely hurtful words. You decide to leave him because you know you don’t deserve that. What you didn’t know was that you were pregnant with his child. Angst, slight fluff, Tengen being a dick, mentions of pregnancy, cursing, and other mature themes.

Your pov

"You nearly got us killed, what are you and idiot?" My husband Tengen yelled at me.

"It was an accident, I'm sorry!" I yelled back

"You cannot afford accidents like this Y/N!" He roared stepping closer to me causing me to flinch slightly.

"I'm sorry." I whispered

"Sorry won't even begin to cover the fucking stupitity of your actions! You have no right being a demon slayer with how dumb you are. I can't believe I married someone like you!" he yelled looking me dead in the eye with fury.

"Fuck you!" I snapped as my anger began rising as tears filled my eyes.

"Real mature Y/N, get the hell out of my house until you can learn some respect and basic combat moves." he said as he began walking away as I began to sob.

"Where the hell am I going to stay! Tengen, I'm your wife!' I cried walking towards him.

"Hell if I care, just get your things and don't come back until you aren't so incopitent." he snapped walking away into another room.

I stood there unable to think, feel, or understand the situation. My body moved on its own and next thing I knew I was out of mt home with a bag packed walking only god knows where. It was getting dark, but I didn't care all I knew is that I was no longer wanted, needed, or loved by the man that swore he would protect me and love me no matter what. So much for promises. I kept walking until the sun began to rise, my thoughts much clearer now and my tears no longer flowing down my face. I decided to go live with my older sister, Misa, who lives on the other side of the country. Her and I have always been close, and I just hoped I would never see that asshole again.

One Month Later

I feel unbelievebly sick, as every morning and evening I spill my guts out. I have an uncontroable hunger and yet anytime I try to eat something I feel once again that I want to throw up. I feel miserable not just physically, but mentally too. Despite his words, I still love my husband. He use to be my everything, but I suppose I was never his. He claimed that he couldn't believe that he married me and just thinking about those poisonus words make my body ache once more. Tears I try not to spill came fourth with so much eagerness that I had no time to stop them. I hated myself for crying over him, but I suppose I was really crying for the man he use to be. I knew in my heart that I would always love him, but now I can never be with someone who so easily made me feel like my very existence meant nothing. I heard a faint knocking that pulled me out of my thoughts as the sweet voice of my sister filled the room.

"How are you feeling this morning, Y/N?" Misa asked as she sat next to me putting her hand on my forhead.

"Not great." I sighed smiling at her wiping away my tears.

"Y/N, I really think we should get you a doctor. This has been going on too long." She suggested taking her hand off my head.

"I think your right Misa." I sighed

"I didn't want to say anything to you, but I really think you're pregnant." she said in a whisper

"What!" I whisper yelled

"You're showing signs and don't worry if you are. I will always take care of you." Misa reassured

"Lets hope I'm not then." I said nervously.

Two days later the doctor came, she was a sweet older lady that had a warm smile and a small figure. She came into my room and inspected me in all they ways she could. My nerves at this point were all consuming as I really did not want to be pregnant, especially since I knew who the father was.

"My dear you have no fever and no true illness. What you are expierencing, is early signs of pregnancy." she said with a smile

"I see, I guess my sister was right then." I stated sadly

"Are you not happy, I'm sure your husband will be." she stated with a concerned look on her face.

"My husband no longer wants me." I answered doing my best not to cry once more.

"Oh, I am so sorry, my dear." She said grabbing my hand.

"Thank you, I just have no idea what to do now." I said honestly

"That's just something you're going to have to figure out for yourself. At the end of the day you need to do what's best for your child." She spoke seriously

"Yes, I suppose you're right." I sighed

"Of course I'm right dear, I am a doctor." she joked

"Hey, is everything alright in here?" my sister asked as she knocked on the door.

"It will be." I whispered touching my belly.

Three Years And Six Months Later

My son, Kei, is now nearly three years old. He's a rowdy child that seems to always be obsessed with what is going on outside. Whether is rainy, snowy, or sunny, he's always begging to go outside. I can't complain though as I love nature and seeing his little cheeks puffed up when he askes is always so cute. Kei looks a little bit like his father as he got most of his features from me. His eyes are the same color as my ex husband and his personality matches. His hair is a lighter shade of h/c, which gave me relief. I still haven't told Tengen about our son, nor do I want to. Part of me feels selfish, but part of me doesn't want to subject him to a man like Tengen. Although, when they do meet, I hope he is kind to his son. Kei is too sweet and kind to have to be around a father that verbally abuses him. I just couldn't live with myself if I let my baby be hurt by him.

In these three years, I haven't had a full time job. Mostly they have been part time jobs and my sister has been providing for me and my son. She claimes that since she doesn't have a family that this is no trouble, but Kei is old enough where I can start working full time. It took a long time to find job, but one day my sister came into the house screaming that she found a job that was perfect for me.

"Y/N, this is a landscaping job." she nearly yelled in my ear

"Huh, that's a little different than the jobs that I'm looking for, but hey if they are hiring then I'll take it." I said confifently

"Mama what's going on?" Kei asked as he walked into the room with a sleepy expression.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to wake you up." I cooed opening my arms for my son. He then picked up the pace and ran into my arms crushing me with all of his nearly three year old strength.

"Its okay." he sighed playing with his fingers with a small tired pout

"Your mama just found a job, Kei." my sister said with a smile at her nephew

"Okay." he said disinterested. I smiled at this, he's so small and perfect and despite the fact that my pregnancy was not the easiest, it was worth it.

Two weeks later I found myself walking towards my new job. It was a sunny day and part of myself wished Kei was here to enjoy it with me. I can almost hear his voice calling my name begging me to play with him. I was lucky to have been blessed with him. My thoughts of my perfect child came to a halt as the gates of the house I would be working at came into view. Taking a deep breath I began walking to what I thought was the front door. This property was absolutely beautiful. Everything seemed like it was perfect, not even a pebble out of place. It was a calming place that seemed to inspire peace. For some reason this place looked oddly familiar and it only now hit me that this was the place where the master lived. Tengen had taken me here years ago when he became hashira while I was just starting to become a demon slayer. Before I left, I was one rank away from being hashira. I thought about training again, but now that I have my son I felt it was irresponsible. Plus I could never leave him.

"You must be Y/N." The master suddenly said and it made me wonder how long he was there for.

"Yes sir, its very nice to meet you. Thank you for having me." I said bowing to show respect to him.

"Of course. I am aware of your situation and am happy to give you work here." He said with a smile." Come with me and I'll show you the grounds.

Two weeks later

Working at this mansion feels peaceful and the work is harder than I expected, but the pay is well worth it. Today I raked, cut grass, and tended to the luscious gardens. The sun beamed down on me giving me a slight headache. Thankfully the day was almost over for me so that I could go home to my son and my sister. Kei has been begging me to take him here ever since my sister told him that the hashira train here. I have been reluctant of it since seeing Tengen might be a possiblilty and seeing a child in my arms was a conversation that I simply did not want to have yet, even though I knew one day it would happen. I heard light footsteps approach me. turning my head I saw one of the other workers and smiled at him. He was a kind man that was around my age and he and I had talked a few times.

"Hey there, how's the work today?" He questioned with a sweet smile.

"Same as always although its a little hotter than usual." I responded

"Yeah, but I like it when its hot because I know that cooler weather is around the corner." he said with a content smile

"That would be nice." I chuckled

"Oh, you should know that the hashira will be here tomorrow." he said seriously

"Well, I'll make sure to make myself scarce." I said trying to mask my nervousness.

"Don't, all you need to do is smile and show them respect." He smiled

"Will do." I laughed standing up.

"Well I will see you tomorrow and tell your son I said hi." he smirked

"I'll make sure to tell him, see you tomorrow." I bowed

I watched him leave with a fake smile on my face. As soon as he was out of sight I sighed as my stomach throbbed with uncomfortable uneasiness as I began waking to the shed to put my tools away with my head hung low. I was no where okay with the fact that Tengen was going to be here tomorrow. I thought that maybe I should call in sick, but no one would believe that. Even if they did, I’d feel too guilty about it. The best thing to do was to avoid seeing him and focus on my work. If I keep my head down and not do any quick movements, then he won’t see me, hopefully. My thoughts were completely consumed with my nerves that I didn’t even register that I had bumped into someone until I heard someone speaking.

“Hey watch where you walk, alright.” The voice snapped

“Forgive me, I wasn’t looking.” I said frantically bowing as to show respect and forgiveness.

“Y/N?” The voice questioned lowing its tone. I then stood up and as my eyes met with the stranger I immediately tended up. My breath hitched and my stomach dropped into the ground. The one and one Tengen Uzui stood before me in all of his flashy glory.

“Uhh, you gonna say anything?” He joked as his eyes raked over my body.

“Um hi.” I stuttered slightly unsure of what the hell to even do. And I tended even more so when his body came crashing into mine in a bone crushing hug. I could feel his urgency and I almost allowed myself to met into his arms. But I couldn’t because I knew it wasn’t right.

“I missed you.” He mumbled into my hair. “I’m so sorry Y/N, you didn’t deserve that.” He cried.

“I know.” I said monotone still unsure what to do. Do I tell him about our son or do I keep my mouth shut and pretend like any of this is okay?

“Where have you been?” He questioned breaking the hug but still standing close. I looked up at him and sighed.

“Here and there, but mostly I’ve been living with my sister.” I said honestly. I really couldn’t lie to this man he’s really good at sporting liars. As much as I hated him, I really didn’t feel like lying to him.

“Ahh so that’s where you’ve been. I though your sister moved away from here.” He said curiously.

“She was going to, but she decided to stay.” I responded trying not to show too much emotion.

“Guess I should’ve looked there.” He joked

“You looked for me?” I questioned as I raised an eyebrow.

“Of course I did you’re my wife and I love you.” He scoffed as though he was offended.

“I just thought you wouldn’t care.” I mumbled

“Of course I care.” Tengen sighed

“Well you sure as hell didn’t act like it then.” I snapped

“You’re right, I didn’t I was too hard on you. You made a simple mistake. Hell I’ve made mistakes too. Making mistakes in this line of work is never good, but no one died. I should’ve been easier on you and I’m sorry.” He spoke. His eyes were pleading with mine saying silent apologies.

“Thank you for apologizing, but I can’t forgive you right now. You make me feel like I was nothing and I’m not just going to forgive that easily. I know one day I will, but I just can’t now.” I whispered as tears threatened my eyes.

“That’s understandable, I just hope one day that we can be together again. I miss you and honestly you’re the best aspect of life.” He said with a longing gaze.

“I’m not sure about that. That might take a long time. I don’t exactly trust you.” I spoke honestly.

“Fair enough.” He sighed. I reluctantly decided that I should just rip the bandaid off. Kei was his son and as much as I hated to admit it, Tengen was honest about his apologies. That man doesn’t half ass anything. So I thought this might be the time.

“Look Tengen I-“Just as I was about to tell him the screeching voice of my child filled my ears and I knew I was fucked.

“Mama!” Kei screeched as he ran straight towards me crushing me into a hug. He nuzzled his head into my thigh and despite how nervous I was I smiled at how cute my baby was.

“We have a child.” I finished with an awkward smile. Tengen stood there stiff and unmoving which was strange for him. I had never seen him tense up like this ever and I began to regret not going home sooner.

“Mama who’s this and why is he so tall.” Kei questioned waking up to Tengen. “Hey, you okay?” He said as he poked Tengens hand.

“Ummm.” Tengen said still shocked at the fact that Kei, his son, was standing right there. Matching pink eyes and all.

“Ummm?” Kei questioned craning his head to the side. “That’s a weird name.” Kei said in disgust.

“Baby this is Tengen Uzui and he’s a hashira. And he’s also your father.” I said trying to stay as calm and collected as possible.

“You’re my dad.?” Kei asked Tengen with cute excited smile on his cubby face.

“Yeah, I guess I am kid.” Tengen whispered crouching down and pulling Kei towards him in a loving him. “I’m your dad.” Tengen cried.

I began to shed a few tears at how cute this meeting was. I felt slightly bad that I didn’t tell Tengen about our son, but I had good reasons not to. I’m just so glad that he seems to be a better and nicer man. My thoughts then came to a haunt as I noticed my sister wasn’t here nor was was neighbor that Kei likes to hang out with. Meaning he came here alone.

“Kei honey, did you walk here alone.” I questioned with my hands on my hips.

“Umm no.” He quickly said.

“Kei answer your mother honestly.” Tengen said sternly but not too much as to scare the child.

“Yeah okay I came here by myself. But I really missed you!” Kei cried quickly to defend himself

“I missed you too, but you need to wait until I get home.” I sighed looking at how adorable my son looked with a pout.

“Okay.” He said reluctantly. Smiling at my son hugging his father brought peace to me. And I then decided to do something that would bring us all together.

“Tengen, would you like to join us for dinner?” I questioned still looking at the cute scene before me.

“Absolutely I would!” He exclaimed standing up and picking up our son, swinging him in the air.

“Yay!” Kei screeched

Making eye contact with Tengen I have him a small smile. His eyes looked relaxed and happy and I’m glad that he found out about or son. He then came up to me smiling as well.

“Y/N thank you for allowing me to be with him. I will do by best to be the father he deserves and hopefully one day the man you deserve if that’s what you’d like.” He spoke

“Thank you, I’m sure you will. And for that second bit only time can tell.” I joked

“Sounds good to me. Alright shall we go?” Tengen suggested

“Yeah, I wanna show you my room!” Kei said

“I bet it’s the flashiest room ever.” Tengen said matching Kei’s energy.

“It sure is!” I exclaimed content about the situation that I was in. But I wondered something.

“Hey why are you here early?” I asked Tengen

“The master told me to come early.” He spoke

“Why?” I asked

“No idea, but something tells me this was the reason.” He spoke softly

“Maybe.” I responded shaking my head at the thought that the master was trying to play match maker again.

We walked to the house as Kei held Tengens hand as well as he could. While the adults caught up on the years and for the first time in a long time I felt happy to be near Tengen.

Thank you so much for reading💜 Thank you to whoever requested this! Sorry it took longer than expected.

Please fell free to comment, repost, and request.

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n and any original characters•

-L.W.L

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

what are thee best drarry fics to read in this day and age? I've not read any for a few years and I don't know what's good 🤔

what an incredibly flattering question! i do not know what your tastes run to, but here are a few of my recentish favorites in no particular order. i think these are all m or e, as that tends to be what i go for. they're also properly adults, well out of hogwarts, and the stories are sort of mid length, over 10K, under 100K. make sure you read the tags!

Necro-romance by @thehoneybeet coming in hot!!!! i feel like this is a very very profoundly drarry story. we are fucked up in some of the same ways so let's do weird sex about it. dark, weird, very tender. incredible atmosphere. loved it!!!

In Every Universe by @skeptiquewrites this is like an AU hopping fic where draco is on the run for Reasons, and harry is chasing him. not with state violence in his heart. please come home. EXQUISITE worldbuilding, one of my favorite things about Tee's fics. This fic is so fun and there are also some really heartwrenching moments that i won't even come close to spoiling. god i love it it's so fucking good

Anatomy of a Wolf Heart this fic is orphaned but i actually do know the author very well (and love him with all my heart). this is an amazing draco. he's dealing with some significant trauma on top of what he went through in canon. all i'm gonna say is werewolf draco cinematic universe my beloved. i love this harry, too. compulsively doing the right thing even as it fucks his whole life up. yum.

Home Truths another @skeptiquewrites fic bc Tee's writing got me WEAK. i rlly love the ensemble here!!! harry and draco are both amazing characters whom i adore, but they are also surrounded by other characters who feel so real and so lived in. wonderful worldbuilding as per usual w this author. and. harry is a pro athlete at the peak of his career so uh. he do be inhabiting his physical form. it's sexy okay. damn. Tee has a talent for capturing Draco's drama and prissiness without making him feel like a caricature. i found this story genuinely inspiring for lots of reasons, and i can't say enough good things about it.

Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo (this one is locked to the archive, so you'll need to be logged in to read it) god i love this story!!! food as a love language? gender magic? fucking YES PLEASE. it's nice to see them get out of the typical Stately Homes backdrop (i enjoy that too, but. well i'm not going to go off on a tangent about it now. variety is the spice of life!). lots of sensuality here and a heaping dollop of straight up fucking. i just love this depiction of them. i love draco's offers of vulnerability and harry's diving in face first. LOVE.

A Gift of True Esteem by ME! i am big enough to acknowledge that i write fucking good fic okay!!! hogwarts professors, chronic illness, historiography, gratuitous use of patronuses, fun world building in general. harry has been self-isolating a little bit. burying himself in his work. he has to let himself feel things again. joy, love, pleasure. draco makes him want to.

Names for a House this is also by me bc it's my fuckn list and i do what i want!!! harry is raising teddy lupin after andromeda gets sick (don't worry i do not kill off any old ladies in this fic). harry is also the wizarding world's first novelist. teddy lupin is a budding werewolf about to go off to hogwarts, and harry is not sure how to do right by him. FORTUNATELY harry's erstwhile nemesis and current cursebreaker is also a werewolf and teddy's cousin, and he's more than willing to help out.

[morehousebites]

Quotes as House MD

Random shit my friends have said as House MD

for contex, I'm in training to get my Medical Assistant certification and most of my friends are also in/going into the medical field

House:

My mysteries are falling out

Can't a mortal want for death?

That's assault. Don't make me elevate it to battery

No no, don't be embarrassed, you all did bad

I'm going to Hell AND I have to pay with quarters? This is the worst day ever!

It's only like the fourth gayest sport. Behind football, chess, and competitive pole dancing

Either kill yourself or get over it

Don't touch these without gloves, they will irritate your tits

Well y'know, some people come out of the closet, [Chase] goes into the closet

I only let my [fellows] teethe on them occasionally. They're mostly slobber-free

Am I not writing right now? With my words? Like a poet?

You're a sick degenerate fuck! I like you

OSHA is for pussies

I can hurt you and then it will have to be my fault

I'm American I'm entitled to piss where I want

Happy erection day. Your penis hard?

I LOVE bullying children

Sorry ladies, this cock is all mine

It's not abuse if they're living. That's why you kill them first

Chase:

Being lesbian is masochist (referring to Thirteen)

As the youth are fond of saying these days: dope, sick nasty.

I'm a cunt not a whore

He's fat, he needs a vasectomy

She's 14, her uterus is gonna wither up

My dad has a PhD in Jesus

I don't even have a thought process

Ow, don't hit me, you're ugly

The part I'm confused on.... Is all of it?

Victim blaming, it's the right thing to do

Ketchup is such a good moisturizer

Aw man that sucked ass, I guess I'll just die hairy

No sin here, move along

Cameron:

I'm not a lesbian, stay away from me

Numbers, organs, same thing. What am I, a doctor? A medical student?

Not gonna lie I kinda like heroin

Them's the house rules, and I'm the coolest bitch

Wow she's pretty! Oh she's dying

Do you not want to smoke weed on the bus to the hospital?

Not even in a sexual way just vulvas are dope

Shawty is a state of mind

Honey no one wants your organs

Alright I'm gonna go finish my work and disappoint [House]

They can't know I'm a freak YET

Supportive parents? In this economy?

I can't cry cause the makeup's too slay

Whoever said laughter is the best medicine was a man

Gravity is a bitch sometimes

Pleasure myself, weep, and repeat

If I had a dollar for every time someone has told me that, I could actually afford therapy

This is pirated, by the way

I've got my own knives: they're called fingers and I swear to god if he talks to me again they are going in his eyes

Foreman:

I'm no one's babygirl, I'm someone's baby MAN

I can ethically own him in the free market space of debate

You think you have rights here? This is [the hospital]

You're taking a speed bump at 5 miles an hour, I'm gonna actually enjoy my life

There is no opinions on the gays

You spilled spaghetti on the church?! (directed at Chase)

That's not a hehe moment

Do any of you... Hear in the ears?

Infidelity ain't lookin so good right now

I'd be full of shit if I told you I knew the answer all the time

I sympathize with you but you're making funny noises

THE DOOR WAS UNLOCKED THE WHOLE TIME AND I SLITHERED THROUGH THE WINDOW?!

Don't antagonize drunk old men who hate you

[kim-the-miserable-rat]

I SAW A TIKTOK WHERE A GUY SAID THAT "LES MIS" WAS JUST A THREE HOUR MUSICAL OF THE FRENCH COMPLAINING

(and I mean, he's not entirely wrong.)

(JUST ACT 1 CAUSE I UNDERESTIMATED HOW LONG THIS WOULD TAKE ME)

So here's a list of what they complain about in each song:

LOOK DOWN: the prison system sucks

PROLOGUE: the life of an exconvict sucks

VALJEAN'S SOLILOQUY: this guy is too nice how dare he? And also the prison system still sucks.

AT THE END OF THE DAY: my workplace is full of cunts

I DREAMED A DREAM: men are the worst

LOVELY LADIES: selling my necklace, hair and becoming a prostitute to help my child is something that I have all the right to be mad about (she's completely right, Fantine you deserved sooooo much better queen)

FANTINE'S ARREST: (to the bourgeoisie asshole) stop dehumanizing me I will fight you (to javert) your justice is not fair (to Jean Valjean) It's kinda your fault that im in this situation tbh

THE RUNAWAY CART: (javert) YO HOMIE WTF ARE YOU HULK? [suspecting]or are you buff because of slavery?.....

WHO AM I?: Oh poo! Now I have to choose between lying (it will make god sad) or going back to jail (hundreds of people will lose their jobs and end up living in misery by my actions) Fuck them workers, im an honest man, lets save that one innocent man.

THE TRIAL: the justice system is flawed. Look at my sick ass tattoo in my chest. Ok nvm im going to se Fantine fuck you all.

FANTINE'S DEATH: I will never see my daughter again this is so unfair (it really is)

THE CONFRONTATION: (Jean Valjean) Javert could you FUCKING WAIT A SECOND! I HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO DO(Javert) Im going to drop all my lore in two lines that you will not get cause were all singing at the same time; and NO, you can't just go, WTF?

CASTLE ON A CLOUD: HELLO, CHILD SLAVERY???? SOMEBODY HELP THIS CHILD ASAP!!!

MASTER OF THE HOUSE: Madam Thenardier has a solo just to talk shit about his husband (and he deserves every bit of it)

THE BARGAIN: (Thenardiers) NO, OF COURSE YOU CAN'T TAKE OUR LITTLE TREASURE AWAY -unless you pay for her, that is-

PARIS (look down reprise): EVERYTHING IS AWFUL, WE HATE IT HERE!

THE ROBBERY: (Eponine) FUCK YOU MARIUS MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! (Javert) Ewwww... i hate criminals! and also poor people. Same thing to me, really.

STARS: I'm so obsessed with that fugitive that it's starting to blur into an homoerotic desire. Also HOW DARE HE to be free? I will hunt him for sport

EPONINE'S ERRAND: (Eponine) So now I have to help YOU, the boy im in love with to find a random girl? ALSO WTF DON'T GIVE ME MONEY YOU ASSHOLE.

ABC CAFE: (Enjolras) STOP WHINING MARIUS, NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR NON EXISTENT LOVE LIFE, WE ARE PLANNING A REVOLUTION HERE, YOU KNOW? Also please guys can we take this thing seriously? Please please please :(

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?: (the people, obviously) time to eat the rich or die trying!

RUE PLUMMET/IN MY LIFE: (Cosette) father, ur cool to be around and all that but.... Who the fuck are you? And why do we act like we are convicts running from the law (cause ur dad kinda is, sweetie)

A HEART FULL OF LOVE: (Eponine) It fucking sucks to have helped my crush find the girl he's in love with[who would have thought?] Guess I will look at them longingly from like five feet away while they confess their love for each other and purposefully ignore me.

THE ATTACK ON RUE PLUMMET: (Eponine) GODAMNIT they will think I'm one of those assholes I have to do something! Go away or I'll scream IM INSANE I WILL FUCKING DO IT. Also fuck you dad. (Babet) I DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT THE LORE, GIVE ME MY FUCKING MONEY THENARDIER (Thenardier) Im surrounded by idiots! (Jean Valjean) TIME TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, FUCK EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO SEE MY DOWNFALL.

ONE DAY MORE: (Jean Valjean) Kinda sucks to have to run from the law [yeah homie we noticed that] (Marius & Cosette) OH NO! I'LL BE SEPARATED FROM THE LOVE OF MY LIFE THAT I MET A WEEK AGO. WHAT A GREAT TRAGEDY (Eponine) Marius still doesnt care about me. (Enjolras) He's not complaining, he's having the best time of his life. Good for him. Enjoy it while it lasts, citizen! (Javert) Guess I'll go as a spy with this cool new outfit. [Again, not a complain but important to notice]

OK, THIS DESCENDED INTO MADNESS.

EXPECT ACT 2 SOON :)

[hyqerfixation]

WAITER SAT AT THE TABLE

-art by ringorenji88 on twitter.

OKKK YAKUZA PILLARS WE LOVE..

Kny boys Drabble NOT FINISHED..

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

"oh shit for real? The pillars are here!? " the pianist asked in shock

"yeah u can see them in the vip seating on the other side of the casino"

"oh for fuck sakes, another fight is probably gonna happen some time soon. "

"you bet"

After hearing the two colleagues gossip Y/n placed her old hairbrush back into her bag.

“What the fuck are pillars?” Y/n thought.

The strip club was definitely something,a popular angle wing in the outskirts of the city of japan

But how could she describe this club?

Utter shit

Female hookers only had a little bit to get ready for their customers, and the bartenders had even less time to change into their uniforms and set the stools down before the casino gets ready

Too add on, the club didn't have a wonderful dressing room for performers to get "all dolled up," as many owners put it, so she dressed up in the ladies employees restroom as long with her female colleagues.

____________________________________________

"HELP Y/N I CANT ZIP MY DRESS UP AND I HAVE TO GO OUT ANY MINUTE!"

"ume calm down jesus fucking crist, Turn around ill do the zip."

Y/N zipped up the performers outfit, which was way more flashier then her skutty uniform.

"daki ur late ur supposed to be on stage letter A right now!"

Another performer exclaimed, rushing daki out of the females room.

"OKAY OKAY I'M COMING ALRIGHT" daki turned around to y/n who was also supposed to be out on her shift right now.

"LET'S MEET UP LATER MM K?"

Y/N sighed lightly while giving a suttle smile

"sure" y/n replied on her way to follow daki to the exit.

Y/n exited the bathroom, leaving her aftershow clothes in on the bathroom sink as long as her bag, and began shifting her fingerless gloves.

“I should’ve pretended to sick today smh” she thought.

"hey y/n! What's up w being late all the time. We could've had a smoke break together."

"i would of been here five minutes ago but I was helping your sister "

Y/ns workmate, also known to be gyutaro rolled his eyes as he gave y/n her note pad and biro pen.

"whatever dude, but come tell me when your on your next break so we can go smoke mm k?"gyutaro said

Y/N waved him goodbye as she slowly walked away.

"we could've talked longer if u came on the right fucking time."

"mm k!" y/n mimicked, taking notes how the siblings act like each other.

Y/N walked out of the bar counter and pushed a stool aside her to continue on to taking orders.

Yet while she looked around she noticed all her work mates avoided the back left,also known as the more "mightier side". Was there someone big there? But if it was someone famous there wouldn't everyone be offering to take their order?

It didn't make sense.

Y/N walked towards to back without a ponder. There wasn't anyone to take the people's orders since the waiters scurried to take their orders, as if they were avoiding a certain table.

'whatever this is; i need that bag, so I guess I'm just going to have to deal with whatever hits me.' y/n thought.

High heels clanked on the ground while y/n search for a table to assist, only for-

"y/n! Y/n!"

She turned around.

"sasumaru? What's up with you?"

Sasumaru was one of y/ns closet friends at the casino, besides the siblings. She wanted to be a volley ball player but failed at everything ever since she was put under house arrest.

"I'm begging you to do that vip table! All of us are to scared to do it!"

"Well why, its not like they are gonna try to kill u for getting their order wrong."

Sasumaru laughed sarcastically

"they tried to kill yahaba because he asked if they wanted ice in their drink!" sasumaru exclaimed, rocking y/n back and fourth by the collar.

"whatever, I'll do it" y/n dead panned

"Are u so sure after hearing what I just told u!" sasumaru panicked even more

"yes it's fine I'll just do what they say, no questions, no ice."

Sasumaru stopped and starred at y/n

"Now will you let me go?" y/n asked.

"AAAAA UR SO COOL Y/N!!! SO BRAVE TOO, JUST LIKE ME"

Y/N pulled sasumaru off her and continued to walk to the vip room

'if u were brave like me, u would be walking to the vip lounge' y/n giggled to her self.

"hey babe what's ur number?"

"look at the fat in her back!"

"I would smack that"

Y/N grumbled to her self about these comments, much to her dismay shes pretty much used to the cat calling here. The manager doesn't really give a shit about the treatment his female employees get here.

'tch, whatever. Fucking saddos'

Y/N walked to the vip table, no in closer inspection she saw a group of men.

Rich men.

Rich and powerful men.

How could y/n tell they were powerful? Doesn't the silent tables of men around them tell you enough? What about the employees refusing to serve any where over here? Is that enough?.

"what could I get for you guys" y/n asked carefully, remembering what happend to yahaba.

"finally someone flashy to help us order!" one of the men said. His hair silver white with magenta eyes that popped. Jewellery coated his body with a expensive tuxedo.

"can I please just have some water? I hope that's okay." the other man said, he was way more bigger then the others and had a red beaded necklace on, his eyes were-wait, is he blind?

"CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME HOT WINGS" a booming voice asked, his eyes were orange and red, matching with his hair.

"shut the fuck up Kyojuro. I want a sex on the beach cocktail" another white haired male asked, his appearance way more scary then the others with his scars that show from his face to where the tuxedo is undone to show more scars.

"I want the same as sanemi!" the male from the start exclaimed again.

Y/N noted all of these

"anything else?"

"how about you darling?" the flashy man asked. y/n internally screamed inside.

"can uzui shut his mouth for ten seconds" the man known as uzui smacked the scar face beside him while the others laughed.

Y/N walked away when they finished their order.

Okay! Maybe they are a little bit imtimidating.

Yeah, especially when she realised she saw them on the news for murder half way through their order.

But it's fine. It won't bother her THAT badly. Would it?.

"what's up with you? You are all shaken up."

"I just realised I was taking the fucking pillars orders"

"Are you fucking stupid? Everyone knew that's why they stayed closer to the entrance."

Y/N clicked her tounge, she knew that she was stupid but she Just wanted some more money! Cut her some slack!

"I did hear the pianist talk about it outside of getting changed. I didn't really deep much into it though."

Gyutaro placed the drinks on a round black tray along with some hot wings.

"I mean it's your problem now, and to be honest if they didn't like you, you would have been dead by now."

Y/N awkwardly smiled, knowing shes fucked.

"yeah yeah whatever."

She grabbed the tray and started to walk back towards the mobsters

I mean are they really mobsters? even though how imtimidating they were, they somewhat respected you.

They respected you way more then other people you are close with.

"look at her body."

"she's hot."

"yo guys should I ask for her number?"

At this point y/n couldn't even hear the things that were said about her. She was too focused about the men on the Vip table. Is she scared? Incredibly. Is she going to act like nothings bothered her about them? Yes. She is.

The platform heels platters the floor, alarming the men on the table.

"I see your back so soon"

The bling guy said, clasping his hands together.

"took her time didn't she." the scarface complained, tapping his finger on the table.

"don't be so rude sanemi."

" and how the fuck am I being rude?!?"

Y/N placed their drinks down, ignoring how her body's shaking from the pillars infront of her.

"so lady! How long have you been working here?"

Y/N paused at what she was doing and looked up to the fire head who just asked her a question.

"just under a year."

Kyojuro nodded and smiled

"that's nice, you look so young though how old are you?"

Sanemi who sat on the edge of the table hanged his leg out

"I bet not a day over 19"

Y/N chuckled lowly, letting her guard down

"I'm 23"

Uzui spat his drink out

"HUH"

Gyomei smiled towards y/n, he felt comfortable around her arua.

He couldnt explain it, she just seems nice to hang around with.

Y/N chuckled again

"do I really look that young? -"

"NO WAY UR MY AGE"

Uzui shouted light heartily, maybe he could have a 4th wife.

"how about she sits down with us? Since u guys are obsessing over her like bitchy dogs."

Sanemi complained, true they were acting like dogs, but he would be lying if he didn't want to talk to y/n too.

"that's not a bad idea!" Rengoku exclaimed while tengen patterned on the the sofa like chair in between him and Kyojuro.

"how about you sit here precious?"

Y/Ns face paled, does she have a choice? I mean she doesn't mind sitting between them she's just worried her boss would think she's slacking off again.

"don't force her, remember she has a job to do." gyomei said to the two, for sanemi to agree

"I'll pay her to sit with me, her job is to get money from customers right? Come sit down with us darling."

Uzui said, while rengoku took a few papers out of his wallet.

"It's fine if you don't want to! We will still pay for our drinks." Rengoku re assured y/n.

Y/N smiled softly, forgetting her worries about any of them.

"cmon girl they will be asking all night if u don't say anything." sanemi grumbled, embarrassed of the two weirdos on the table with him.

"sure.but not for to long"

"BETTER THEN NOTHING!" Rengoku shouted, for uzui to nudge sanemi to move for y/n to get in.

Sanemi stood up and put his hand on her shoulder.

"come on uzui we don't have all day."

"Sorry my fatass Is making it harder to get out, I know you can't relate sanemi" uzui chuckled to make sanemi embarrassed. Y/n chuckled lowly, just to embarrass him more.

"whatever, in you get girl"

Y/N nudged over to Kyojuro, only to smile at each other while ignoring gyomei telling uzui to not body shame anyone.

"It's not my fault he fails at squats" uzui said nudging over to sit next to y/n

Which made her sandwiched between two physco extroverts who wears expensive tuxedos

Nothing else could get worse then it already is.

"so pretty face, what's your name?" sanemi asked, fed up of the name calling.

"I bet her name is really cool!"

"I bet its something snazzy"

Gyomei took a sip of his water and looked over to y/n

"whatever her name is, it would be beautiful."

Y/N was going to answer sanemis question once she had some of uzuis drink, that he offered her.

"my name is -"

"Y/N."

[sebsbarnes]

letters to a loved one || tangerine

tangerine x reader

summary: the only form of communication you and tangerine can use when he is on a mission is email, however, as the weeks and months go by, your words have been left unanswered.

warnings: angst

word count: 1.4k

masterlist

a/n: this is a lot different than my normal works so i hope you enjoy this different format

aug 5th, 2022: i know it's only been two days since you left but i miss you so much already! good luck today, kick some ass!! mwah! xoxo

aug 15th, 2022: hi honey. i hope the mission went well a few days ago! even though email is the safest way we can communicate while you're gone i know you can't always respond even if you're in a safe house. i'm not too worried, i know how skilled you and lemon are. tell him i say hi! i can't wait for you to be home, you estimated you'd be back on the 17th so i have a nice dinner planned. <3 love you so so much my sweet tang!

aug 27th, 2022: hey tang, i can't lie and say i'm not a tiny bit worried but i keep telling myself you've been gone longer before with zero communication. maybe it feels different now because of how long we've been together. i miss waking up to you and grabbing our keys and heading out for the day. if you see this message me back! even if you can't fully respond i'll settle with a smiley face if i must! haha. oh by the way i still cooked that dinner i had planned for us, it came out soooo yummy. but it took so long omg! you're lucky i love you and i'm willing to spend 8 hours in the kitchen again. it will probably taste better this time since you will be by my side. love you lots!

sept 12th, 2022: i only just saw the news of the bullet train derailment in japan on august 5th. that was your mission wasn't it? you said the 5th. i'm worried more now, i can't lie, but like i tell you every day i know how skilled you are. even though i never want to wish you are in a hospital i hope that's where you are recovering with lemon by your side. when you get the chance please email me back, okay? i love you.

sept 14th, 2022: tangerine if you see this please email or call me.

sept 30th, 2022: i wish i could talk to you just once. one word so i know you are okay. i can't reach lemon either. i wake up every day hoping you will be laying next to me. please, please give me something so i know you are alright? anything. where are you tangerine? i don't want to keep crying but that's all i can do. sit here in our empty house and cry. the walls feel like they are closing in on me. i went to our favorite breakfast spot the other day and i got that really sweet older lady with the grey curly hair as my waitress. she asked where you've been. i don't know how much longer i can keep saying you are gone for work and people believe it... i no longer believe it either. i hate typing it out. i don't want to believe something awful happened but something did, didn't it? i can feel it in my body. please reach out to me, i miss you so much and i love you so so much tangerine, please.

oct 26th, 2022: i love halloween, you know that more than anyone. decorations everywhere, piles of candy, and everyone dressing up pretending to be someone else for the night. now i feel bad about how much i bugged you about this year's halloween. my friends keep telling me to come out and join them, but if i'm being honest it's hard to do anything these days. it doesn't help that they think you just left me, ghosted me i guess. but they don't know what you do for work and i can't tell them. so i have to listen to them talk shit about you and i sit there trying to convince them you aren't this evil guy who ditched me and never looked back. maybe i should listen, maybe it's easier to believe you just left me than admitting to myself you're no longer here. i'm holding out, i'm trying so fucking hard to, tan. maybe in some sick joke you will pop up on halloween dressed in some stupid costume with a mask covering your face and in some grand reveal you will pull the mask off and i'll be in your arms again. it's wishful thinking. well, i have to go now, i'm meeting with a co-worker. love you.

dec 1st, 2022: i should be waking up this morning with your arms wrapped around me nearly crushing every bone in my body. but i didn't. and i haven't since the beginning of august. is it cruel now to admit i think you are gone. i really think you are and part of me has thought this since i saw the news of the bullet train. i feel scared. i'm starting to forget the little things about you. i can't play back the sound of your laugh in my head. i can't really picture the way your eyes crinkled. it makes me feel ill. i don't want to forget the small details about you. i crave to whisper goodnight and i love you to you. i crave just for your body next to mine. in the most innocent forms i crave you, like the way you'd absentmindedly play with my hair or pull out my chair or charge my phone when i always forget. the simple things i'm missing the most. i didn't realize i had so many forms of love until you've been gone. happy anniversary, dear.

jan 17th, 2023: tangerine, i'm not sure why i opened this email account. it's been over a month since i've checked it. maybe it was because i heard your favorite song earlier and thought of you a bit more than usual these days. i secretly hoped there would be a new message but that's foolish of me.

april 7th, 2023: Dear Tangerine, I know you won't read this email, but I felt as though I needed to explain what life has been like recently. My friends no longer bring you up in conversation which I am grateful for. I had to stop visiting our favorite breakfast place, each time I went they asked about you, even as recently as three weeks ago. I will miss their egg sandwich that you recommended to me on our third date but it is better off I no longer go there. Work has been great, a bit busy, but good. I removed your picture from my desk at the beginning of the new year. I saw the way my co-workers would stare a bit too long at it, I guess seeing it reminded them how I never mentioned you anymore. Speaking of co-workers, a few emails ago I mentioned I was meeting up with one of them. We've been seeing each other a lot outside of work, I enjoy their company. I can never say this to them but when they kiss me and hug me I sometimes think it's you. That's wrong to admit especially since I think I'm developing feelings for them, but they will never see this. They are kind and treat me well which I know you would be pleased to hear. I packed up your clothes in my house and put them in a box. I couldn't keep looking at them. I cried so much that I don't think I can cry again for years to come. I would hug your shirts and jackets so much that they lost your smell. I regret that a bit. I opened the box a few days ago and it smelled like me. Almost all signs of you are gone now that the remnants of your cologne is worn off the fabric. I think I might sell the house. It's too big for a single person now. It's too quiet in here and it almost feels like someone is watching me, it doesn't feel safe. Maybe that's because you provided me with safety. I'm not doing much today, it's actually pretty early right now, maybe I'll cook that dinner I never got to cook for you. I haven't since that day. I'm realizing how silly I sound in my own head as I type these words. Maybe I'll invest in a journal soon.

[seeingivy]

how to fly

satoru gojo x f!reader

content: fear of heights + stairs. reader calls satoru the worlds strongest cunt and satoru's a little bitch but also kind of a lil sweetie. megumi + tsumiki kiddos too :))

an: based on a request I received from @luna0713hunter I hope you like it sweetie pie!!!

request: satoru helping reader get over a fear of heights/stairs

--

You love Satoru Gojo. Your partner in crime - since you were mission partners during your first year at Jujutsu Tech and now partners in everything else, that mattered anyways. Life, love, two very grumpy pre-teens. What’s not to love? 

His affinity for being a little bitch. 

He’s currently sitting on the porch of your tiny town house, ankles danglinging off the black tiles. His back is pressed against the angled roof, resembling the black cat that often sunbathes in your shared lawn. 

You grab one of the sticks from the yard and throw it up, catching his attention. At the stick making contact with his face, he sits up, rubbing the now pink spot on his forehead.

“Ouch, sweetheart. You could have just hollered for me.” 

“Get off. Now. We have to go pick up Megumi from school.”

“No, I love you? No light of my life, father of my children-” 

“We don’t have children.” 

“Yes, we do!” “They’re not our biological children, asshat. Can you just come down now? Please?” 

You can feel it - the itching in your throat, the sweating in your palms, pins and needles burning in your stomach. Satoru’s just so, so high and just so, so close to the edge that even the sight of him makes you sick. 

Logically, rationally - Satoru Gojo is the strongest. A fall from a few feet high wouldn’t hurt him and knowing him, he’d take it as an opportunity to start doing some next level gymnastics to show off to the old lady who lives across the street. 

But fears aren’t logical or rational. Because in your heart of hearts, you know that Satoru will be okay if he falls. And you’ll be okay walking up and down the stairs and Satoru trying to take you on a date to the tallest building he can find so you two can get a view of the city would actually be very, very romantic. 

But it isn’t. Not for you anyway. Because that sinking feeling, that chill down your spine returns every time he brings it up.

Logically, rationally - Satoru’s your partner, you’ve been together in everything since you were fifteen. A mere fear like this should be nothing when you've shared almost everything with him.

But it feels silly to tell him that you’re scared of heights when you two basically dance with death every time you leave the house. You’ve hung upside down in curses mouths, literally been stuck in the most harrowing of situations, but free suspension in the air is what gets you. 

“Asshat? You wound me, doll. Now you have to come here and kiss it better.” 

You can feel your eyes nearly boggle out of your sockets as you look up at him, smirking down at you. His blindfold is hanging loose around his neck - a habit of his whenever he’s around you. He just knows that his pretty blue eyes can make you do almost anything he wants, even climb onto a fucking roof to kiss him. 

“Satoru. It’s almost ten past three. Megumi gets upset whenever we’re late.” 

“Then make it quick! Climb up here and give me a little kiss and we can leave.” 

You love Satoru Gojo. And you really, really hate his affinity for being a little bitch. 

“How do I get up there? I'm not the world’s strongest cunt like you.” 

“That’s two kisses now, pretty girl. And there’s a ladder up the side.” 

You feel your knees wobble as you walk over, a silver, very rickety-looking ladder, mind you, propped up against the door.

You close your eyes, uncurling and curling your balls out of their little fists as you brace yourself to go get him. It’s just a ladder. It’s just a few steps, and then you’ll be on the roof, which is plenty safe. And Satoru’s right there. Nothing can happen to you if he’s right next to you and-

“Whatcha doing, Y/N?” 

You look up to find Satoru’s little tufts of white hair peeking down at you, a glimmering smile still pressed on his face. 

“Praying to the gods. Hoping they can make you less of an idiot."

“Three kisses now, my sweet. Quit insulting me!” 

You shakily put your hands on the first rungs, your hands so clammy and sweaty that you can feel your grip shaking. He’s still watching you - rather laxly though since he’s literally on the phone with Ijichi. 

“Yeah, yeah. You might have to go get Megumi. Y/N is taking forever on her ladder.” 

“Well,  I asked her to go on it. She has to come give me three kisses for insulting me before we leave to get him.” 

“No, I am not messing with her and fine, we’ll go get him if you’re so busy.” 

He clicks his phone off, shuffling around on the roof as he puts it back in his pocket. You’re nearly halfway there, your stomach a horrible mess of knots and the tears burning in your eyes. 

When you reach the top, Satoru holds one hand out to you, which you begrudgingly take as you try your best to plant your feet on the ladder. 

Don’t think about it shaking. Don’t think about falling back. Don’t think about the ladder breaking. 

His face is a few feet away from yours, the smile on his face spread wide. You’re trying your best to blink away your tears, nearly heaving in front of him. 

“Hi princess.” 

“Satoru.”

“That’s a total of three kisses for me. For asshat, world’s strongest cunt, and praying for the gods to fix me. You should know by now that this problem is unfixable.” 

“Evidently.” 

“Four now, baby.” 

You roll your eyes as you lean forward, pressing two kisses to each of his cheeks, one on his forehead, and a peck on his lips. You pull back quickly, getting ready to get the fuck off this ladder so fast, but he pulls forward, basically hanging his torso off the roof as he grabs your face, locking your lips together again. When he pulls apart, he’s smiling at you like there’s no tomorrow and the panic in your stomach is so bad that you want to vomit off the side of the roof. 

“Let’s go get ‘Gumi. He’s probably pissed already.” 

--

You lean against the cold glass, trying to soothe your headache as you watch Satoru harass Megumi in the pick-up area, a very horrible habit he had. Satoru, the charismatic freak he was, loves to talk to all of Megumi’s little friends, much to Megumi’s dismay. 

He’s currently hanging Itadori and Megumi both by their ankles, swinging them around in the air, as they wait for Itadori’s grandpa sick. Even the sight of them, the tiniest bit above the ground makes you nauseous, making you hold your head between your knees. 

You keep your head there for what feels like an hour and you know the two of them have returned when you can hear Satoru’s teasing and Megumi’s protests. 

“Satoru. You’re so embarrassing.” 

“Aw, Megumi-chan. Don’t talk like that to your father.” 

“You’re not his father.” 

“You’re not my father.” 

You lift your head up to give Megumi a smile through a rear-view mirror, which he acknowledges with a nod when Satoru starts driving. Satoru mindlessly reaches over, locking his hands with yours as he talks to Megumi. The softness of his hand is comforting and you crack each of the knuckles on his hand, as you listen to Satoru and Megumi bicker. 

When you reach home, Megumi running off into the house to pee, while you find Tsumiki home from her class, lying down across the porch. You lean against the back of the car as Satoru grabs Megumi’s backpack and joining you at your side. 

“You okay, love?” 

“Yeah, Toru. Why?” 

“No reason. You were cracking my knuckles in the car. You only do that when you used to get all…anxious, when we started doing missions.” 

“Oh. That was just retribution for earlier. You can be really annoying.” 

“That’s one kiss for m-”

“No.” 

He pouts as he drops Megumi’s backpack onto the curb, snaking his hands against your waist as he smirks at you. You can feel your heart drop in your chest as you realize what Satoru’s about to do. 

“Wait, Toru don’t-” 

You pinch your eyes shut as you feel the cold air and Satoru laughing in your ear. You can feel that there’s no ground beneath your feet and knowing Satoru fucking Gojo, he’s probably suspened the two of you so high in the air that you’ll vomit if you open your eyes. 

“Open your eyes.” 

You shake your head blindly, clinging on for dear life as you wrap your arms around Satoru’s neck and your legs around his waist. 

“Sweetheart, this is kind of kink-”

“Satoru. Please, please put me down.” 

“Where’s the fun in that? Look down, Megumi and Tsumiki look like little ants looking up at us.” 

Little ants. Meaning your two tiny little pre-teens are so far that they look like ants. That you can’t even make their faces out. Meaning, Satoru took you so fucking high that you can barely even see people standing on the ground. You clench harder on his shirt, burying your forehead into his neck as you try to focus on his senses. 

His smell, the feel of his hair in your hands, and the sound of his voice. Granted the latter isn’t quite helping when he’s telling you how high you fucking are and his stupid hands are the reason you’re in this situation, you try your best to stop it. Stop crying, stop panting, stop freaking out. 

The second you sniffle, you hear all of the joking leave Satoru’s voice. 

“Hey, sweetheart are you crying?” 

You choke back your own tears, your voice breaking as you respond. 

“N-no, Toru. Please put me down.” 

“Love, hey. I’ll take you down right now, I’m sorry.” 

You’re not sure when you feel your feet back on the ground, but you’re still clutching onto Satoru for dear life when you hit the curb. You’re only cognizant of the fact when Tsumiki and Megumi wrap their arms around your legs, their soft voices asking you if you’re okay. 

You open your eyes to find the three of them with matching, concerned looks on their faces, Satoru’s jaw tight against his mouth. Tsumiki tugs on the bottom of your pants, her brown eyes staring back up at you.

“Do you want to eat ice cream, now?” 

“Sure, Miki. Let’s go.” 

She holds her hand out, leading you back into the house as you wipe away your tears, with Satour and Megumi following. You can hear the two of them bickering behind you, your head pounding too hard and your breaths too uneven that you can’t tell them to stop. 

“What did you do, Satoru?” 

“Nothing, ‘Gumi! I was just showing her the view.” 

“One day, when she leaves you, I’m going to go with her.” 

“Gumi.” 

You sit down at the kitchen table, Megumi at your side as Tsumiki and Satoru grab the industrial tub of chocolate ice cream Satoru bought last week. You feel Megumi link his fingers with yours under the table, giving your fingers a squeeze as you press your head against the table. 

You’re on the ground. You’re okay. You can’t fall because there’s nowhere to fall and you’re sitting at the kitchen table. Satoru’s here so you’ll be okay and nothing can happen. 

You feel Satoru’s hands in your hair and you look up to find that he’s evicted a very-annoyed Megumi from his seat next to you. There’s four spoons on the table and the ice cream open. You reach forward first, the cooling sensation and Satoru next to you soothing the panic in your chest, the needles and pins in your stomach less strong. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?” 

“Yes, Miki. Thank you for the ice cream, sweet girl.” 

She gives you a soft smile as the four of you eat the ice cream in silence, your breathing slowing down as you finish. 

--

Megumi and Tsumiki run off after your little ice cream snack, the sun dipping into the horizon as you look out the window. Satoru’s in the kitchen, making Megumi and Tsumiki’s lunches for tomorrow.

No stairs today. You reach for the spare cabinet in the living room as pull out a pair of pillows and blankets for the night. 

On most days, the stairs up to your bedroom are manageable. But after today - your entire foundation is off. Even one step up, and you know you’ll have a full-blown panic if you even try to get up there. You hear Satoru drop the spoon he was holding as he gives you a spare glance, the stack of pillows and blankets in your hand. 

You watch his expression drop as he walks over to you, taking the pillows from your hands so he can hold you. 

“Love. Are you really that upset with me that you’re going to sleep on the couch?” 

“Satoru, I-” 

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I just wanted to show you how the city looked and I don’t know what I did wrong but-”

“It’s not that, it’s just-” 

“You mean the world to me. I would never want to make you upset so please don’t sleep downstairs today. We can talk about it, you can slap me, but just-” 

“Gojo.” 

He’s quiet at the sound of his family name, nervous blue eyes peering into yours as he holds your hands. It’s his turn to shake, his usual smiley face so sad it makes you squelch. One thing you love about Satoru?

His love for others.

“Satoru. I’m not…mad at you. I just…can’t go upstairs.” 

You watch his confusion spread across his face as he brings his hands up to cup your cheeks, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before you keep talking. 

“I…can’t. The stairs- and getting up there, it’s just…too much.” 

“The stairs, sweet? What’s wrong with the stairs?” 

“It’s not just the stairs. It’s the ladder and you hanging Megumi and Itadori in the air and sitting on the roof and taking me in the air and-” 

“Y/N. Are you…scared of it? The stairs?”

You swallow hard as you press your head against his chest, your cheeks burning at the admission. 

“Yes. And heights. And I know it’s stupid because we literally fight curses all the time and-” 

“It’s not stupid.” 

“It is and I don’t want to be scared of it, but I just…I just can’t help it, Satoru. It makes me panic, I want to throw up, and my hands get all sweaty-” 

Satoru pulls his arms around your waist as he holds you up, crushing you in one of his warm hugs. You can hear him whispering against your ear, tears lightly flowing as he tells you it’s okay. The two of you stand there for a while, Satoru’s head pressed against your shoulder, his embrace warm. 

“Sweetheart?” 

“Yes, Satoru?” 

“Can I…help you? You don’t have to be scared of this and I don’t want you to feel this way. I’ll walk you through it, slowly. You know I’d never let anything happen to you and I-” 

You squeeze him hard, your chest burning at how sweet he can be. 

“Please? But, can we start tomorrow? I just…need a day.”

“Yes, silly girl. We can start next year if we have to. Just let me sleep on the couch with you.” 

“Not big enough, Toru.” 

“I’ll sleep on the floor. Just lean your hand over the couch so I can hold it.” 

“Okay.” 

--  

You and Satoru are standing on the lawn, three days later. Megumi and Tsumiki are lying on the porch, sunbathing like Satoru did on the roof a few days ago. They’re fully equipped - with ice cream, puke bags, and three different self-help books Satoru bought to help you get over your fear. 

He’s so stupid, it’s cute. 

“Okay, my sweet. I think you’re ready. Just a little bit in the air okay? I’ll take you up and just open your eyes. If you freak out too much, tell me and I’ll take you down.” 

“Okay.” 

Satoru snakes his hands arond your waist and squeezes, which immediately elicits a scream from you. You can hear Megumi and Tsumiki’s groans the second you stop, tiny little “you can’t be serious” and a “there’s no way” from the two of them. 

“Princess.” 

“What? How high are we? Oh my god, Toru- I’m going to vomit. I hate you. You’re stupid.” 

“We haven’t even left the ground yet.” 

You look down to find you and Satoru’s feet planted firmly on the ground and then look back up to find Satoru laughing at you. You flick the top of his forehead, rolling your eyes at him in response. 

“You’re mean, Satoru.” 

“You’re so silly, sweet girl. We haven’t even moved yet!” 

“Well, screw you. You squeezed so I thought that we did!” 

“I was just trying to reassure you.” 

“Well, you’re stupid.” 

“That’s two kisses for you~~” he sings, eyes gliting into yours. 

“No.” 

--

Slowly but surely, your fear of heights and the stairs starts to fly away. The pins and needles are little pinpricks now and every time the fear rises up in you, Satoru - his soft voice and warm hands - are always there to will it down. 

Three months later, Satoru takes you to fly. 

And you actually enjoy it.

--

taglist: @porridgesblog 

lmk if you want to be part of my jjk or permanent taglist by replying to this post or any of my writing :DD

[thatdumbmexicanbimbo]

everyone was sword fighting in her mouth.

Perv!Mean!Bully!Eddie Munson x Bimbo!thick!latina reader

A/N:*INHALES LOUDLY* I cannot stand the lack of people, writing for latina's, SO I'm just gonna write myself *grins evil like*, but with a twist, HEATHERS AU!!, Eddie is ram Sweeney bc he's my fav, and reader is like Veronica Sawyer in the situation :P, Chrissy is heather McNamara, Nancy is heather duke, heather Halloway is heather Chandler!

WARNINGS: SMUT!!, NONCON,drugging ,impiled oral sex(F only), virgin reader!, PIV

you wonder how your life would be if you stayed in New Jersey, you sighed as you unloaded your boxes to your new house.. well trailer, you and your papa have been slightly struggling, your pink suitcase was heavy so your papa came to help, it wasn't a shabby trailer it was quite expensive, 3 bedrooms and 1 bathroom was okay for you and your dad.

Now it was your first day , you've been to racists schools your whole life, casually getting rude remarks on your weight and race, but ever since you moved away from Hawkins temporarily, you can't shake the thrill of coming back!, you struggled, to slide your white skirt on, you made sure your thong wasn't peaking out so your dad wouldn't see, you put on a lacy white bra obviously!! a push up, a pink tube top,and cute black backpack a bow on the zipper!

When you arrived you got loads of flattering and a few un-flattered looks, you just looked at your schedule, you go to your locker number

seeing a woman already there, but the sudden turn around revealed a long-haired man, "Whats with the staring,baby doll?" he chirped,

"my apologies, I'm confused on how to open my locker? I forgot how, I use to be at this school I just moved but came back for personal family issues", he looks you and up down scanning your hot thick body up n down,

"you ain't new then?". you nod meekly, "ah okay, well let me tell ya sweetheart I don't recall seeing you 'round these halls" he says while pulling a cigarette out, you look away embarrassed,

"I was slightly overweight, glasses and baggy clothes..i-i was called chunky y/n.." you say stuttering,

he looks at you "oh now I know you, you looked HIDEOUS, those glasses were not for you" he says chuckling, his smile fading seeing your face form a frown,

"is a pretty face and body all that matters to you?"you say annoyed,

"well, what else is there to offer?", you scoff and storm away, fucking guy judging your body fucking looking at you like a pervert.

you skip your 3rd period class, your lip liner was fading, fashion emergency!, you reapply your lip-gloss as 3 girls walk in, one of them goes into a stall and forces themselves to throw up, another girl trails behind another, LOUD RETCHING NOISES, "god Nancy hurry up!" the main girl shouts checking her pores

a teacher walks in to use the restroom, "what are you lady's doing out of class??", you were quick to write fake passes after you recognized your first period teacher's handwriting and signature, you quickly hand the 3 girls one and say

"um Ms Burn-ham gave us each a bathroom note" you show the teacher, "oh very well you ladies stay out of trouble" she said as she exited the bathroom

"sick forgery, thanks for helping" the main one says, "the name's Heather Holloway, i'm pretty popular, among the school",

the second one chirps up, "ugh didn't even bother to introduce us Heather, i'm Nancy wheeler, and this is Chrissy Cunningham", Chrissy waves shyly,

"I see you being a popular girl stick with me and you'll be on top of the other low-life losers" heather says wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

a month has gone by heather wasn't fully wrong you were popular with her guidance, But so much people noticed you finally, even that sick pervert hasn't stopped trying, you were laying lazily on your bed, and get a call from Chrissy, "y/n I need help i'm at the cemetery"

before you could respond Chrissy hangs up you made your way to the cemetery, you see Chrissy in her car

, "uh why is uh Eddie munson passed out?" you questioned

"well nancy, steve,eddie, and I were ya know hanging out and they dung into the booze, then Nancy and Steve were together and Eddie tried hooking up with me..and he wouldn't stop trying to grope me..." she says blankly

"so after all this happened why'd you call me??" you say tugging at your annoying socks

"oh well that was the deal, if I called you Eddie promised to leave me alone"

"SO you avoided date rape by volunteering ME for date rape?"

"gosh you make it sound so ugly"

eddie groans drunkly, "HEYYYY Y/NNN, I WAITED HOURS FOR YOU!!"

he passed out, Nancy comes from Steve's car, him attached to her while she buttons her skirt, "Chrissy, open the door" she says sharply

"UGHH don't leave me like this baby!!" Steve whines. he lays on the grounded passing along-side Eddie

Eddie rises, when Chrissy and Nancy drive away, "so you're my reward huh" he says says while smirking

"as if , you have a left hand use it" you reply with disgust you hear a noise off in the distance looking away.

he whimpers, but replies, "there's some alchol left?" he was quick to slip in a roofie

"welp this Friday was shit i'll take it" you chug it down

"I don't feel so awesome" you pass out but Eddie catches you

"oh trust me sweetheart you will soon.."

your eyes flutter open, still in a ditzy unable to move trance, you feel an odd stomach twisting feeling between your thighs, a long- haired man between your thick thighs, you cry as he shoves fingers into you, you gush out more slick and cum

"fucking naughty girl, getting her tiny unused cunt violated, n getting wet off it, pathetic" he says degrading you

you whimper, and try moving or screaming unable to from the roofies effects, he tugs his boxers down, aligning his cock to your virgin cunt, you sniffle as he shoves his cock in, he thrusts uncaring if you're enjoying it

"so fucking tight, mmm yea just for me, fucking bitch you rejected me??, I don't fucking think so, you are enjoying this you're clenching go ahead slut, cum for me, cum on my cock"

you sqeaul and cream on his cock. after this everything fades to black

you awaken in your bedroom, you walk into your bathroom, hickeys everywhere, bruises, you sniffle knowing it wasn't a dream..

you arrive at school seeing Nancy cleaning out heather Holloway's locker, you heard she was kidnapped by billy who also died or dissappeared,

"jeez what are you rummaging for??" you say

"a little respect, I'm cleaning out a loved ones locker" Nancy scowls at you

"I don't think heather would want you going through her stuff-"

"lets not focus on me right now, more about your new reputation, Eddie n Steve have been telling the whole school about a scandalous little three way last night after Chrissy and I left" she said smirking

"there was no three way, I don't even recall doing anything with either of them-" you get off by the boys giggling

"THEY"RE WAS A BIG SWORD FIGHT IN HER MOUTH DUDE!!"

"MY BIG SALAMI BENT HER LIKE ORIGAMI!!" they both cheered

you ran into the bathroom crying terribly.. it was just a rumor but what could you do..

possible part 2?