#maybe they just didn't care a lot or maybe i cared like Way Too Much or maybe both ! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lamentationsofalonelypotato · 2 days ago

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@zepskies

Girl, it's not just an emotional rollercoaster it's a full on emotional CARNIVAL 🤣

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

The line is devastating. It ''bites." It's more than just telling someone that they messed up, it's also kinda catty lol.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

He really bet it all. And I'm in love with the person who said "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." 😂

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

I think it would have been a bigger gut punch to Dean if she didn't stay in the room with him, but I still think that the her turning her back on him and not letting him touch her kinda hit the nail on the head pretty well too.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

It's not weird, I think that it's really fitting! And I also really like writing the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff too lol. But you're absolutely right, Dean really does adopt that mentality after Lisa and Ben and it is really heartbreaking to see him like that.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

As much as I do love the readers who are "tough as nails" and "doesn't cry very often" I love the readers who are strong but are allowed to break. It makes them seem more real. Because as much as I believe that there are people who are completely just insane badasses, they've gotta have some kind of emotion or compassion or else they don't seem human. Also "Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL" I'm DEAD 😂

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

Please never apologize for the angst. I LOVE IT! And I really did also love how emotional this fic made me. It was wonderful lol.

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

GIRL WHAT?! OH MY WORD THAT IS JUST SO MUCH BETTER! Thank you for explaining that to me!

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

No, THANK YOU for writing this wonderful fic/series! 😊

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster.

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood.

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming.

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done.

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his.

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires.

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest.

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital.

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead.

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness.

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?”

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him.

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead.

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it.

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says.

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you.

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls.

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.”

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps.

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.”

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms.

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely.

You truly become incensed at that.

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks.

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn.

Dean calls your name in frustration.

“What?” you hiss.

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks.

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything.

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town.

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own.

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes.

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back.

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence.

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space.

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music.

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts.

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table.

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips.

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard.

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself.

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart.

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.”

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible.

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him.

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—”

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand.

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it.

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes.

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms.

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing.

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.”

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday.

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea.

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet.

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room.

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.”

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips.

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve.

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head.

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing.

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand.

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance.

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing.

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.”

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot.

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit.

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest.

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.”

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders.

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance.

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles.

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss.

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question.

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking.

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts.

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine.

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close.

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck.

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there.

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms.

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze.

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him.

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs.

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye.

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms.

Oh, fuck yeah.

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs.

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up.

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control.

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls.

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums.

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk.

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground.

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit.

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck.

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you.

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask.

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love.

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze.

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease.

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts.

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs.

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase.

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room.

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest.

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment.

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room.

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again.

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand.

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]:

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]:

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83

@sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @deanwinchesterswitch @freewastelandstrawberry

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @chernayawidow @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn #guysireadsomething #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic

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witchthewriter · 1 day ago

Text

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 🐦‍⬛

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I've added Victor into this, but I want to have a conversation about if he can be a romantic partner - or he will always be platonic?

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

You're still in Fromville, not having escaped yet but making the best of it.

𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒅 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Domesticity to Boyd is so much different in this town compared to the 'real' world.

・For example, he would be awake before you, no matter the day just so he could surprise you with your favourite drink and a pastry each morning.

・The chores would be split 50/50, with Boyd usually picking up any slack (he doesn't mind at all)

・He loves doing the laundry, folding your clothes with so much care.

・But here... his actions to show his love are limited and it kinda pisses him off

・But you constantly remind him of all the good he's done here and how he keeps everyone together.

・You celebrate every win, even the small ones.

・Boyd is big on DIY, and loves fixing up things for you. Anything you ask - you want a different type of curtain, or you want part of the window patched up - he does NOT let you do it. That is HIS job.

・Massaging his shoulders at night, feeling how taught he is. This town is so hard on him. It constantly makes you wonder, why him?

・You do have one rule though: last one in bed has to make it!

・Boyd seems like the type of person to keep everything about himself to himself. But that isn't true. He likes telling you things, he enjoys opening up to you.

・One really important factor in your relationship is the challenges of town and its mysteries.

・Many people in town were basically betting how long you two would together.

・But what they didn't know, was that the horrors STRENGTHENED your bond. It made you both rely on each other so deeply.

・Having a partner means so much to him.

・Boyd loves you so much. He would never burden you with what he knows, but he loves when you have random conversations.

・It makes things feel just a bit more normal. It gives him hope.

𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒚 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Mornings and nights are especially special to you both

・Slow, careful, mindful, warm and cosy.

・Touching each other in some way - hugging each other from behind, pinkies entwined, cheek kisses, forehead kisses, rubbing noses together - if anyone else saw you too they would gag (ITS CALLED LOVE)

・Kenny LOVES tucking you in at night.

"You comfy now?" As he wedges the blanket under the side of your body.

"Yes Kenny! Now get in bed you loser!" You answer laughing.

"Okay, okay, I'm just looking after the most important person in my life thank you very much."

・You love listening to him; to his stories about his childhood up until he came to town.

・One of Kenny's favourite things is when you read to him. Even if you don't have a book in front of you, he just wants you to recount as much as you can from books you have read.

・Might be kind of painful, but you two like talking about how life would be like together outside of this hell.

・Owning two cats, two dogs, maybe some fish.

・Whenever you hear the creatures screeching, you automatically cling to Kenny, you can't help it. You HATE the noises.

・But you always feel safe around Kenny. Always.

"I've got you. I swear to god I'll never let anything happen to you."

𝑱𝒂𝒅𝒆 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Every morning he gives you a kiss on the head and 'tip toes' out of the room, trying not to disturb you.

・You usually yell at him to get back in bed

"My looooooove, I have important business to attend to!"

・The bed is pressed up against the wall, and Jade says if someone/something were to enter the room, he would be the first thing they see

・From then he starts his daily ritual of figuring out how to get the hell home

・Jade teaches you A LOT of stuff. And you're always surprised by how well he does at teaching. He's patient (only with you but you don't know that), and takes his time to teach in ways you'll understand (once again, only for you...)

・He is like a walking computer at times. Really good with dates and great with measurements.

・But one thing he is terrible about is the fact that he's a repeat offender blanket stealer. Absolute criminal.

・No matter how much you tug and pull, or wrap yourself in it, Jade somehow unravels you in his sleep and takes the blanket.

・When you both wake up, you've practically snuggled underneath him...

"Babe, what are you doing?"

"You stole the blanket again and I got cold," you reply muffled beneath him. He's very warm.

"Oh god, sorry! We ah, we should probably get more blankets then... god why didn't you wake me?"

"Wake you? Ever since we got our own place, you've slept like you've never done so in your life!"

・It was quiet before he replied, and then he wrapped his arms around you.

"That's because I haven't sleep properly before I met you."

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒍 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Your relationship with Randall is one that surprises you. Constantly.

・People don't see him the way you do. At times they start to though.

・But only you get to see his true soft side. The side that moves the hair from your face, kisses your forehead, nudges his nose against your own.

・You are the ONLY person to make him laugh.

・He knows so much about you - the way you like your clothes folded or hung up. He knows which books are your favourite, which song you could listen to on replay.

・Music is a big thing to Randall, and the fact that he can't just randomly play something on his phone gets him really down.

・So one night you guys make a list of every song you like, when you heard it and what it made you feel

・Making each other guess who you were before arriving in hell.

"Hmm... you were ... a ... farmhand on a ranch..."

"What the fuck Y/N."

"What? Were you?"

"Oh yeah sure, you hit the nail straight on the head sweetcheeks," and then he rolled his eyes.

・You laugh, loving when he gets 'annoyed' (you know he can never really be annoyed with you right?)

・You know each other's favourite tv shows, colours, smells, literature and so on. You whisper to each other through the night, trying to take your mind off of the screeching coming from outside.

𝑬𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒔 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

・Always the last to get up, sometimes he wakes before you but he'll still lay in bed, watching you sleep. Sometimes blowing air on your face when it's been a few hours and he gets bored

・Leaving sweet notes in unexpected places, they range from:

'hey baby, went down to do some work in the greenhouse, love you xx' to 'yo sexy honey see you tonight ;)'

・And you keep every single one of them. You have a sort of time capsule thing underneath the bed in one of your bags. Just small photos, letters written to each other, etc.

・Side note - Ellis is a cheeky man who loves to rile you up. Push your buttons. Make you red in the face.

・But he knows when enough is enough; he's extremely intune with your moods and doesn't have to ask when the days get too much.

・LOVES MAKING UP RANDOM SONGS ABOUT YOU, they are terrible but they make you laugh

・CONSTANTLY setting up spontaneous things for you guys to do. Seeing a smile on your face is the best thing he has ever seen.

・Literally puppy love.

・You guys seem to be able to talk to each other mind to mind. Glances from across the room are easily read by one another.

𝑽𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

PSA: As I said above, I'm not sure if Victor can be a romantic partner - I would love everyone's thoughts on it and maybe we can come to some kind of agreement??? Anyway, read this how you like ⟡☾⚝☽⟡

・Home...this town is the only home that Victor had ever truly known.

・How could you show him that the way he'd been living was not normal? That he should be able to feel safe, he should have gone to school - maybe even his drawing could have evolved into something astonishing

・So, in little ways you introduce this life to him

・He can't remember his birthday (so you help him choose one) and the two of you, along with Ethan, Tabitha and Julie celebrate

・...home decor projects are mostly just Victor's drawings. The really scary ones, you ask to be put away and he obliges <3

・Victor is used to living with other being, but not sleeping in the same room as another person.

・You would also need to get used to his blatant honesty. It isn't like he's trying to hurt you but he can just be brutally honest.

・Picnics in your room where you scavenge whatever food you can and talk about the funniest things you've seen people do

"I saw Jim ... trip over today," Victor says in a hushed voice, a cookie halfway to his mouth.

You burst out laughing, even snorting as you imagine the uppity Jim Matthews take a tumble.

"God, I wish I saw that."

・At first Victor didn't want another friend. He didn't want to get close to someone, he knew something would happen to you. You'd be taken away from him.

・But you swore to him that you would always be there for him.

・In town, and when everyone leaves. You've told him that you can be his home, his family.

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yamisnuffles · 13 hours ago

Text

DATV Spoiler Free Review

I beat Veilguard a couple days ago and have had some time to let it settle in my brain. So, without getting into the nitty gritty and more spoilery things, here are my overall feelings on the game.

The Great:

The world itself. The scenery. It was really gorgeous and felt fully alive in a way that none of the previous games have quite managed. Since it wasn't as open world as DAI nor as narrow in scope as DA2 (nor as old as DAO lol), it felt more vital. Definitely a place where the advances in graphics helped, I'm sure.

The Good:

The companions. I wouldn't say any of them blew me away but they all at least ranged from enjoyable to very good. I definitely had my quibbles here and there but I think they were all pretty solid. As such, though I've only done one romance, I'll suppose they're all good. A bit... sparse in my experience and from what I've been hearing, but nice enough.

Overall, I also think the story was pretty good. Like much in this game, nothing that blew me away, but solidly compelling.

Also, mechanically, the gameplay and the glamour system. It still doesn't feel like DA to me but it was enjoyable once I got used to it. It works well with how I play games. And it was nice to just set looks for myself and my companions and not worry about stats vs appearance.

Rook. I have some definite Complaints, and so this point is probably closer to the good to mid range, but they did a pretty good job with letting you pull in your faction stuff. I'm prevented from saying great because it feels like, even with what are supposed to be rougher dialogue choices, you're limited to being mildly pleasant.

The Mid:

The music. This is tragic to me because every previous game had some really standout songs and DAI especially was such a solid soundtrack. I love soundtrack music. Also because Hans Zimmer! I love Hans Zimmer. But the entire thing felt very generic epic fantasy to me. It wasn't bad but it didn't feel good. The only times I ended up moved by the music was when they lifted DAI songs.

The lack of imports. It wasn't the end of the world but did make some cameos feel really off. And for all the talk of making what few things were imported matter, that really didn't feel like the case at all (unless you were in a specific subset of players). I didn't care too much, but it was just enough to make things feel weird, especially with characters like Harding who are so attached to previous stuff.

The Bad:

The world felt so sanitized. I have no issue getting rid of real life bigotry that makes so sense in the context of the world. For example, the sexism in DAO especially made no sense. That said, there was a lot of in world nastiness that is just... gone. The game does a lot of telling us the elves have it bad but doesn't show it. No one bats an eye at a Tevinter mage running about outside of Tevinter. No one cares about a Qunari in occupied Treviso. I suppose it's not the worst thing in the world but it feels weird, especially when it's so central to Solas' motivations.

This sanitization carried on through pretty much everything. All of the factions are presented as good and heroic, even the ones that are historically pretty shady. Your companions are all pleasant and palatable. They have the occasional minor squabble but even when they almost have actual beef, it's solved super easily. You might get some disapproval for decisions but companions never seem to much care or hold it against you, even on really big things. I don't need DA2 levels of interparty drama but, boy did I want a bit more tooth sometimes.

The Awful:

I can't get into it without spoilers but it did a Thing that Bioware sometimes likes to do that I absolutely loathe. This is definitely personal but it ruined some of my desire to replay.

Overall:

I'd give the game a 7/10 or maybe 6/10, depending on how I'm feeling. It was enjoyable for the most part but it had so many things that felt like splinters. Lots of little things that stuck under my skin and bothered me. Would I recommend it? Genuinely depends on the person.

#dragon age #datv #something something this is all my personal take #datv critical

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yanderes-galore · 21 hours ago

Note

may i request a romantic yandere concept for Lucifer with Fallen Angel! Darling? Maybe he used to have a crush on them before he fell, so seeing them again after such long time just makes his old feelings come back in the worst way possible..

Thank you so much for giving me a background, lol! It helped a lot when working on this ^^ Sorry for the long wait, hope it was worth it.

Yandere! Lucifer with Fallen Angel! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Possessive behavior, Kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Forced relationship.

Before Lucifer fell? What a long time...

Yet he no doubt remembers his time up there.

I imagine Lucifer knew you before he seduced Eve and married Lilith.

He kinda has to, right?

You were probably his first companion... Possibly a crush he had no idea how to act on.

He was quite... naive? Young?

Either way, back then he was rather inexperienced, even as an angel.

He always asked too many questions and seemed to stick his nose where it doesn't belong.

You knew him well back then.

You were two close friends, Lucifer had always remembered you fondly.

Everything about you was, well, angelic.

Your smile, your gaze, your pretty pure wings.

Like many things in heaven, you were a beauty to behold.

Lucifer, in hindsight, wishes he spent more time with you.

Things were simple back then.

Just two angels, sharing some talk.

There was no Hell yet and Lucifer was still that beaming dreamer that many found troublesome.

But you never thought that.

You were just as curious.

You were curious about him, humankind, and all of creation.

Even before Lucifer met Lilith it seems he was corrupting you.

Lucifer often told you of the dealings he and Lilith did.

He wasn't sure why... but maybe it was because you'd always perk up with stars in your eyes when you listened.

Although... Once temptation was introduced to humankind...

You were forced to watch Lucifer fall from grace.

Lucifer still remembers the fear in your eyes when you watch your companion fall.

He had always remembered you since that day.

Yet he was also occupied with his new wife, Lilith, deep in this new kingdom created by their hands.

Hell.

Honestly, Lucifer didn't think he'd see you again.

Why would he?

Far as he knew, you were quite the pure angel.

You belonged up there... while he deserved to take his punishment.

Lucifer didn't start thinking about you again until Lilith disappeared.

It was then, when he was alone with his rubber ducks, that he began to realize how much you meant to him.

He's a king... yet he's a pitiful king in this state.

Even now he misses the companionship you two would share.

But then there's... news.

A fallen angel has entered Hell.

Lucifer would normally not care when another soul enters Hell.

But an angel?

That's already surprising enough.

He probably met you after helping Charlie rebuild the Hotel.

Which only seems to surprise him more.

At first, well, he thinks he's dreaming.

There's... There's no way you're here!

Yet when he gets a close look...

It is you.

This was really you.

You look different due to the fall... but you.

Lucifer probably tears up when he sees you, like seeing a long lost friend.

A long lost love...

He's been alone for so long.

I don't doubt him hugging you when he sees you, baffling you and the other demons for a moment.

Until Lucifer starts dumping info, saying you two were close in Heaven.

Lucifer is quite excited you came down here.

He isn't sure how you ended up here...

Yet he's happy you are!

It's for... selfish reasons, but that's expected of a demon.

With you here, he's no longer alone!

He has his fellow (fallen) angel friend to keep him company!

Not only that... but he wants to show you the world he's been thriving in for... who knows how long?

You're scared when you first arrive... Completely expected.

You fell due to following Lucifer's teachings and agreeing with Charlie's plan to reform sinners.

Which is how you end up falling into Lucifer's new home.

Knowing how delusional and alone Lucifer is at this point, even after reconciling with his daughter, he'd probably think this was destiny.

You two were meant to meet again!

You were meant to save him from being lonely like the angel you are! (were?)

You'd no doubt be Lucifer's next love interest, even if you were technically his first.

Sometimes he's sorry for being away for so long.

You two would've been cute together up there...

....

But that can still happen, right!?

Lucifer definitely shows you around his home and reminisces about your time together in Heaven.

To you, he's like a friend who simply hasn't seen another friend in a long time.

Yet that's such a naive view...

In reality, due to his fragile mental state, Lucifer is quickly falling in love all over again.

I imagine now, in Hell, his feelings get twisted.

After all, he's no angel anymore.

You aren't either.

He can be possessive, he can be manipulative...

He's clingy, desperate, and hopes you still enjoy his presence.

To him, everything about you is still beautiful.

He hopes you're still a dreamer.

He hopes you understand how he feels.

He's delusional, probably accidentally confessing within weeks.

Then when he realizes it, he begs you to stay.

He's a king now!

He'll give you everything and anything!

Please don't leave too!

If... If you do...

Maybe he needs to clip your wings?

Lucifer doesn't have many... morals in this state.

Again, King of Hell and all.

So keeping you with him by force, even if he doesn't fully realize it, doesn't register as wrong to him.

He'll manipulate you or straight up lock you away.

If he wanted to restrict your power, he probably could since you both are fallen angels.

He's desperate to not be alone again.

He clings to you, perhaps even in demonic form, pleading you don't leave.

When you try to pull away, try to reason, try to run from your corrupted friend...

He merely strokes your wings in a comforting touch, whispering sweet nothings...

Before locking you away, chaining your wings, just so he can keep his closest companion.

Your wings bleed with your attempts to flee... the glowing ichor staining your skin.

You're miserable... tortured by your delusional companion's obsession...

But to Lucifer...

It was torture losing you... torture being alone...

But now, you're in his territory, his domain...

Now? Well, now you'll never leave him!

He won't let it happen.

He's sick of being alone.

He just wants to hold you... kiss you... love you...

He wants you to be his.

He's waited a long time for this.

He knows you're scared... but... you'll grow used to your new home...

He'll take care of you, he'll love you until he sees that familiar sparkle of happiness in your eyes...

But just when he thinks he sees your eyes sparkle when you look at him...

He quickly realizes it's tears.

#yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel x reader #yandere lucifer #yandere lucifer morningstar

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slaaverin · 3 days ago

Note

One of the things that confuses me about jikook possibly being a couple is they don’t read very romantic to me these days. They absolutely do love each other, I have no doubt about that, and multiple times they will do things that are bizarrely sexual and wouldn’t fit well in a purely platonic relationship but there’s still something missing imo. It’s funny, they used to come across as more romantic when they were younger (particularly 2017-2021) but not so much in 2022 and 2023. Maybe it’s that they’ve known each other for so long that some of the romance has died down the same way it does with other couples or idk maybe they’re just better at hiding it now?

I half agree with you and half not.

I think they still read romantic.

As you said, maybe not like before.

But I think our vision is skewed because before chapter 2 we saw them more too. We had interactions almost every day. Jikook jikooked all the time. So to us it felt more, whereas after the start of chapter 2 we saw them way less, but in my mind I have no doubts those interactions were still happening behind the scenes.

I don't think the romance has died down or that they are hiding per se.

I think that simply after a certain amount of years in a long-term relationship the affection is shown in a more quiet and simple way. It shows they are very secured in the relationship.

They kept saying "this is romantic" "this is romance" and all, so I'm sure they had this idea in mind during those trips.

Of course it would be romantic, they are together and they share a romance. I don't see two friends saying something like this, it wouldn't even cross their minds.

I think during AYS they shared very tender moments. Very affectionate moments. There was also a lot of flirting and weird sex jokes. I don't think their romance is dead at all, simply that they didn't have to scream it on rooftops. Those trips were for them two above all.

I also would like you to keep in mind that they showed only a limited amount of hours per day. And were also mindful to what they showed or not. I believe they were somewhat careful not to show too much in front of camera (even if some things that was shown were already really shocking to me).

I think jikook see each other a lot outside of schedule, and that allows them to be a normal couple. They've come a long way. So now in front of cameras they have nothing to prove anymore, not to themselves or to us, because they've already shared everything that was politically correct to share with us during all those years.

Now they can simply be casual in their interactions, with a sense of deep love and care that breathes normalcy without any need to show off, because they don't need to. They both know where they stand. They both know what they mean to each other.

I personally didn't see their relationship having less romance than before in AYS, in truth I saw that their relationship evolved into something even deeper and more certain than ever.

It's like going from new couple to married couple, there is a different feel to it. But it's not less. It's a love that is more profound but doesn't need to be as loud.

I don't think there is anything missing, they've given us everything I personally wanted and more. Yes in 2022-2023 we saw them less but the times we did they were jikooking as usual. It's safe to say the relationship didn't change behind close doors and with what we saw in AYS I think it evolved way more than any of us could have expected or imagined.

During all this time they were still on their journey as a couple even if we didn't see it.

And the cherry on top is MS, they were the only one enlisting together, going to great length to remain together.

I'm not saying that MS is romantic in any way, I don't believe they would be much in a romance mood in there at all. But the act of enlisting just to be sure they can have each other's presence and support is a very romantic move to me, very telling of how much they really care. Which is a lot.

Wait until 2025 to hear them incessantly yap about all their military stories and all the behinds of AYS, wait for all of their insides jokes that will turn into flirting as usual and you'll tell me again if they are not as romantic as before lmaooo

We're going to see them way more and the jikooking will be back full force and I pray the lord that people will stop constantly doubting them and we can go back to regular program

Some romantic shots to finish off:

Straight out of a romance movie 🥺

Take care anon 💜

#jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #travel show #ays #romance #military service #ask

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writeforfandoms · 1 day ago

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Island 8

Find the series masterlist

The group of you are finally ready to leave the base and start on, hopefully, the final journey on the Island.

Warnings: Swearing, mention of blood, mention of hunting, anxiety, general feelings of low self-worth, typical stuff for Survivor for this series.

Word count: 2.7k

It took a further three days to have everything as prepped as you wanted. You made batches and batches of hard biscuits, using up all the flour. Berries would still be available along a lot of the route, so you didn't worry too much about that. Jerky was fortunately something you'd been making for a long time, so you had quite a bit of it to go around. Fresh meat would also be available along the route.

Water was more of a concern, but you were still holding out hope for a drop with more canteens.

Price gave in to your logic, and finished taming the iguanodon, which was good. Ghost surprised the hell out of you by coming back with a stego. Even Soap managed to tame a parasaur.

Gaz still wanted a hyaenadon, so you and he took the ghillie and cuts of meat and started taming. You worked on one - Gaz somehow managed to work on two. It did take two days, as you'd predicted, but it worked.

Leaving the lot of you with plenty of tames to carry things and help guard the group. Hopefully you'd be able to tame a few more things along the way, since you weren't worried much about being able to feed them all until you got to the volcano.

Really, it was a pretty good start.

Soap and Gaz did a good portion of the packing, with Price and Ghost handling the weapons and ammunition. Another thing you wouldn't mind finding more of in a drop.

You kept track of everything, made sure everyone had some armor and kept essentials on them. Just in case.

You didn't even object when Gaz swapped out one of your armor pieces for something heavier.

The morning you were set to leave was… hard. Not for any reasons you'd expected. Packing went quickly and seamlessly, all the tames behaving themselves. Even Ripper wasn't trying to maul anyone.

No, it was difficult for you to leave. You didn't want to leave. You didn't want to leave the safety of your base. You weren't ready to venture into the relative unknown.

Even with the four men by your side.

“Ready?” Gaz finally prompted you, even as one of the tames snorted and shuffled behind you.

You breathed in deep one last time, hands steady as you straightened your shirt. “Ready.” You turned your back on the base and took your place at the front, leading the whole group away.

You didn't look back.

If your guesses were right, it would take about four days to reach the volcano, since the lot of you weren't pushing, and were moving more cautiously. Maybe three, if things went well and nobody got in trouble and there weren't any distractions.

You had enough food to last a week, just in case.

The first day was easy. Nothing bothered you. All was quiet. Feeding everyone was easy - the herbivores grazed as you all walked, and you let Ripper and the hyaenadons after a few dodos. Gaz helped you build up the campfire for the night, helping you cook as the others took care of settling everything else.

“Ye never did tell us how to tame a raptor,” Soap said, eyeing Ripper where the raptor had settled behind you for the night.

“I didn't?” You blinked, surprised. You could have sworn you'd told them already. “Well, it's not easy. The hyaenadons are probably the easiest, honestly.” You swallowed a few berries, thinking over how you wanted to phrase it.

“And the rest?” Price had a keen eye on you, even as he swapped a pot of boiling water for a fresh pot.

“Well, first step is to not get killed,” you answered dryly, smirking at his dissatisfied huff. “You have to trap the predators. Usually that means with something like a bear trap. Feed them while they're stuck and can't go anywhere. Tom was pretty good at building traps that were less harmful, things you could lead a raptor into without risking your arm.”

“Traps, eh?” Price eyed you, clearly considering. “Did he teach you?”

“Yes,” you said slowly, hesitantly. “But we won't have time to build any traps, not on our route. The only chance we'd have of taming one is if we found one already trapped or injured.”

“But it could be done,” Price pressed.

“Sure,” you agreed with a shrug. “Still takes time, so we'd have to pause somewhere nearby, but it could be done, hypothetically. I don't know if we'll need more carnivores though, honestly. I wouldn't say no to more trikes or stegos.”

Price sat back, his curiosity apparently assuaged for the moment.

“How did Tom teach ye?” Soap asked, still looking curious.

“Showed me what he had done with Ripper,” you said, shrugging again. “We had plenty of time. Not like we had anywhere else to be.” You paused, swallowing back bitterness. “At least, that's what we figured at the time.”

Silence settled over the camp for a few long moments, the others giving you time to calm again. You didn't look at them, instead choosing to look at the fire, letting the movement of the flames distract you from your feelings.

You owed a lot to Tom, and you'd never have a chance to repay him.

But maybe if you got these men out… maybe your debt would be closer to settled.

“What else did he teach you?” Gaz was the one to break the silence. “About tames.”

You smiled a little. “Which ones to avoid, like dodos,” you answered easily. “Which ones were easier to tame. Where to find the different creatures.”

“You seen a lot of this place, then?” Soap piped up, watching keenly.

“A fair bit. Not the snowy lands, not the volcano. But I did make the mistake of going through the swamp once.” You shuddered in remembered terror and revulsion. “Huge bugs. Terrifying crocodile-things, except bigger. Lots of fighting and hunting going on in the swamp, all the time.”

“Didn't ye have to go there to get the leech?” Soap looked faintly concerned.

You shrugged. “I stayed to the outside, only went in far enough to find a leech and run. It was fine.” You reached behind you to pat Ripper. The raptor chirruped at you, clearly pleased with the attention.

“Good thing that's not on the way,” Gaz managed to joke, his attention still focused on you.

“Very good thing,” you agreed. “Although once we get into the mountains, there will be plenty of bad shit to keep us busy.”

“We're prepared for that,” Price pointed out, seemingly unconcerned.

You decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. You'd already expressed concern about the danger, more than once, so further harping on it wouldn't get you anywhere. Especially since these four could now survive on their own. They didn't actually need you anymore.

It was what you'd worked towards with them, for them, but it was still a slightly terrifying thought. That they would survive without you.

You shook yourself, getting rid of the worst of the what ifs and maybes, and stood to do a quick round of checks. Now that dark had fallen, it would be best to sleep in shifts, something the four of them had divided up quite nicely.

You weren’t going to object. Not tonight. Tomorrow, though, you’d insist on pulling your weight.

Soap, Price, and Ghost all settled down, apparently content to go to sleep. Soap even went so far as to roll away from the fire, his hair even more of a mess than usual.

Gaz stayed where he was, seated, shoulders relaxed but gaze alert. The firelight cast odd shadows around him, flickering and dancing. Far from scaring you, however, you just thought him beautiful like this.

“You should get some sleep,” he murmured to you, voice lowered in deference to his teammates.

“I will,” you agreed. “In a few minutes.” You breathed in deep, the cold air mixed with the smell of the fire both soothing and exhilarating. “You see the island very differently.”

“Do I?” He sounded curious, glancing at you as you settled a little closer to him. You told yourself it was so you could keep your voices down, let the others sleep.

You didn't acknowledge that you just wanted to be close to him.

Well. You tried not to acknowledge that, anyway.

“You still see the wonder of it,” you murmured, letting your own gaze drift past the fire to the dark woods beyond. “The beauty of this place. I can't see it anymore. I just see danger.”

Gaz was quiet for a few moments before he leaned over enough to nudge his shoulder up against yours. “You've been alone a long time,” he murmured. “Hypervigilance is not surprising.”

You sighed softly, leaning just a little into the comfort he offered. “I'm tired,” you admitted, so quiet you were sure he couldn't hear you.

But he surprised you, turning enough to wrap one solid arm around your shoulders. “I'm here,” he whispered, head tipped towards your ear, foreheads nearly touching. “I'll help. Any way I can.”

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore the hot sting of tears, refusing to let them escape. “You already are.”

His arm tightened around you, comforting and grounding, letting you breathe more easily. Neither of you said another word. None were needed. The shared warmth and comfort was more than enough for you.

And when you woke in the morning next to Gaz, rather than where you'd originally set your things down, no one said anything. Soap looked like he wanted to, but he didn't. (The sharp-looking elbow from Gaz might've helped with that.)

It didn't take long until the lot of you were walking again. You had the map, mostly ignoring Price peering over your shoulder at it. You didn't need the map yet, but you wanted to be sure the lot of you weren't getting lost.

“Drops up ahead,” Ghost called from the back of the group.

You paused and shaded your eyes, looking up until you spotted them. One green drop and one white. Your heart thumped in excitement. White drops were rare, and usually had really good stuff.

“Looks like they'll be falling up ahead,” Price said, having also spotted them. “Nearly dead ahead.”

“The white one is a bit off course,” you mused. “But it should be fine. We're not that close to the horse clan here, I think we're outside their normal range.”

“You think?” Price raised one eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes. “I was less focused on keeping up with their territories, and more focused on surviving,” you pointed out, eyes narrowing at him.

Price huffed but held his hands up in apparent surrender. Satisfied, you looked back at the drops. The green would be directly on the way, easy to stop and grab.

An ankylosaurus wandered out of the trees in front of the group, snorting once at the lot of you before continuing to look for berries.

“Slight change of plans,” you murmured, excited now. “You lot go to the green drop and wait for it there. I'll tame this anky and meet up with you.”

“You shouldn't stay out here on your own,” Gaz interrupted, having clearly been eavesdropping.

You shrugged. “So someone can volunteer to stay with me,” you said, unbothered. “Won't take three of you long to get everything out of the green drop anyway.”

“I'll stay,” Gaz immediately offered.

Price sighed and briefly pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something too quiet for you to understand. He sounded faintly exasperated. “Fine,” he agreed, lowering his hand again. “Soap, Ghost, on me.” He strode ahead, and you whistled the tames to follow him.

From behind, it was rather fun to see the small herd of creatures following the beleaguered-looking captain. A sentiment Soap seemed to share with you, snickering as he passed.

“More tames?” Gaz asked after the group had pulled ahead.

“Ankys are pretty good defense,” you pointed out. “Not sure how much they can carry, but that tail is a good deterrent for a lot of predators.”

“Not arguing,” he was quick to say, holding out a bag of berries. “Just surprised we're taking the time to do this now, is all.”

You shrugged, pulling out a dark red berry and rolling it between your fingertips. “Way I see it, we have plenty of time,” you pointed out. “And more tames can't hurt.”

Gaz nodded, accepting your logic. “So, approach slowly and feed it until it likes you?” He guessed with a little grin.

You couldn't help your huff of amusement. “Basically,” you agreed. “Keep an eye out and shout if you see trouble.” You left him there, walking over closer to the anky.

It wasn't a long process to feed, fortunately. The anky was hungry, and eager to take berries even from your hand. By the time the other group had the drop packed away, you had the anky following you, docile as any tame.

“Anything good in that drop?” You asked as you and Gaz walked up to the rest of the group.

“A canteen,” Soap answered, holding it up to show you. “And more ammo.”

“Not bad,” you agreed with a little grin. “I hope the white drop has more good stuff.”

The white drop seemed to be a bit off the path you'd drawn for the journey, edging closer to the edge of the Pink Ladies’ territory. Hopefully it wouldn't be a problem. Hopefully it would be worth it.

This time, Gaz stayed next to you as you walked. You didn't mind his company, even when you heard a bit of snickering and hushed murmurs behind you. Soap, at a guess. And maybe Price.

The white drop was a bit larger than the average drop, and it only took moments to pry the top open.

The first thing you grabbed happened to be a bundle of incendiary arrows. You whistled lowly, impressed.

“Hardly ever see these,” you mused, passing them to Soap. “Those could come in handy.”

The jar of oil went right after the arrows, and your grin felt a little sharp. A little feral, possibly.

Those arrows would be an excellent way to defend your group, if needed.

Two more canteens, bigger and heavy-duty, met with your approval. More ammo, for all the weapons. A precious jar of cure-all. Two bags of jerky. And a bola, which you’d never had a chance to use before.

“That was a good drop,” you said, grinning, very pleased. “Very good drop.”

“Good to have supplies,” Price agreed, finishing stowing away the last of the extra ammo.

“Now that this is done, we can keep going.” You didn't bother with taking the crate this time. No need, not if you lot actually got off the island. And building took too long on the road to be helpful.

Ghost hissed through his teeth. “Got eyes on,” he said suddenly.

The shift in the men around you was palpable, shoulders drawing up, expressions changing. Gaz shifted so he was half in front of you, physically blocking you.

You'd be impressed if you weren't trying to peer over his shoulder to see what was ahead.

Three Painted Ladies stood ahead, basically in the way. Your heart sank. You hadn't dealt much with them, not in a while, but the red dye on their faces and clothes made it clear. The two marked tames behind them made you a little nervous - an anky and a dire bear. You hadn't seen a dire bear in ages.

You'd forgotten how big they got.

You breathed in slowly, eyeing the distance between your groups. The Painted Ladies weren't approaching, weren't trying to get closer. Clearly waiting.

You'd have to go to them.

“You lot stay here,” you said, quiet but firm. “They won't deal with you.”

“But–!” Soap started to protest, one hand already on a rifle.

“No.” You shook your head a little. “They won't talk to you. They'll talk to me.”

Price looked back at you, calculating. Then he nodded once, firm and steady. “Gaz, keep back, but follow her.”

You didn't object that time. Having Gaz at your back made you feel better, even if you knew he couldn't help. So you breathed in deep, until the ache of it filled your lungs.

Then you started forward, projecting confidence you didn't feel.

#island #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #f!reader

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to-be-a-dreamer · 8 hours ago

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Okay so I'm from the Newsies fandom which means I know how to make character backstories out of literally nothing and I'm done with my "This makes no sense what were the writers thinking?" stage of grief after the BuckTommy breakup and it's time to go to work and start asking "What could have happened to make this make sense?".

Because regardless of what you think about Tommy, it's very clear that the writers have characterized him (in the current stage of his life) as someone who has put in a lot of work to become a better person, is a very steady figure, and feels very confident in himself and his identity. We've also been told and shown that he and Buck care for each other a lot and neither of them wanted this relationship to end. So the question is, what happened in Tommy's past that could have caused this very confident, mature person to realize he's falling in love with his partner and then choose to leave?

"I'm your first, not your last."

How many times has Tommy been someone's first? How many times has he shown another man this new side of himself, taught them what it means to be queer and how to love yourself for it, and been left behind once they figured themselves out? How many times has he been someone's first and had a whirlwind romance, only to be left brokenhearted because his partners had a whole new world opened up to them only to realize they didn't want Tommy to be a part of that world?

Does Tommy think of himself as the guy people have fun with, not the guy they want to marry? Does Tommy think there's something wrong with him, that there's a reason no one ever sees a future with him? Do you think he's always told himself that he would keep trying, that it's worth the potential heartbreak to find out if this next guy might be the one who stays?

Did the way Buck was talking about their relationship being transformative for him just sound too familiar? Did he think Buck liked him because he was showing him something new, not because he could ever actually love someone like Tommy? Do you think he could never imagine Buck liking him anywhere near as much as Tommy liked him?

Do you think he realized he was falling in love with Buck, and the idea of losing him like all the others was just too much? Do you think he knew the potential heartbreak of someone as incredible as Buck deciding he didn't want Tommy in his future wasn't worth it this time? Do you think he was afraid of falling in love with Buck, of falling so deeply in love that he wouldn't be able to recover when Buck left him like all the others? Do you think he decided it was better to break things off with Buck before he could finish falling in love with him?

Do you think they could come back from this? That maybe, just maybe, if Tommy told Buck about all of his fears that he could convince Tommy that it is worth it to find out if they could make it?

"I'm not the guy people decide to spend their life with. They- you'll finish figuring yourself out and realize you don't want a future with me. And that's okay, I just... I don't want to let myself finish falling in love with you first because I won't survive losing you after that."

"Do you think that little of me? That I'm just using you for my own personal gain and that I'll leave you in the dust as soon as I get what I want?"

"I... No. No, I don't think you would do that."

"Then give us a chance. Let me show you that this is more than just an awakening for me. Let me prove that I want to finish falling in love with you too."

Because I think that's what Tommy's afraid of. He's a person who's spent a lot of time self-reflecting and he knows himself so well, especially his faults. I think he’s afraid of Buck seeing all of those faults and realizing he doesn’t love Tommy as much as he thought he did. Loving someone means you see every part of them and want to be with them anyways.

I think Tommy is terrified of falling in love with someone because he can't imagine anyone loving him back.

#i kinda want to write a fic about tommy being a victim on a call #therfore forcing him and buck to have a come to jesus moment about all this #but we shall see #anyways i think tommy is a facinating character and i will never forgive toxic fans with no imagination for ruining his potential #give me characters with shitty origins who put in the work to become better people #give me characters who are allowed to grow and change and become more than just products of their upbringing #tommy's storyline could have been so incredible if we'd been allowed to see how he got from where he started to where he is now #alas i'll just have to do it myself i guess #tommy kinard #evan buck buckley #buck buckley #bucktommy #buck x tommy #tevan #911 spoilers #911 abc #911 show

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threepandas · 10 hours ago

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Bad End: Century Demons

The steam engine blasted vapor into the air. Cacophonous chatter from the crowds all around us, pressing like a physical weight. I truely did hate traveling. Granted, there was nothing for it, we were needed. Being their Majesty's Special Task Force and all. But STILL! Awful. Just, awful!

It was the pushing, really. The constant shoving. Flashs of insight into lives I wanted nothing to do with. That individual? Marriage was collapsing. This one? Had debts. The girl who just stepped on my foot, thought she was in love, but honestly? Any adult could tell you how badly it was going to end. He was using her.

Frankly, I wish we could walk. At this point? I would honestly take a flipping DONKEY! But nooooo! What has my husband decided to do? "Let's take the TRAIN, darling! It'll be an ADVENTURE! Save so much TIME!"

He's lucky I married him AT ALL. Fuck. I HAD options! Could have been a Baron's wife. Well-to-do! But NO, I wanted to HELP people. Like a FOOL. Gods, my mother was RIGHT! Cute air-heads WOULD be the death of-!

I finally spot Arthur, the sweet idiot, looking lost by our baggage. Map in hand. Like a confused puppy told to do arithmetic or be scolded, his anxiety is palpable. I gather my skirts and shove. Fuck being polite. Everyone ELSE seems to be fine, being stampeding herd animals. Why not I? Move!

"O-Oh thank goodness! Darling!" Arthur gasps, nearly dropping the map as he reaches for me as I get close. His eye are wide and his expression frazzled. Tone as though someone has been compressing his chest. "There are-! There are so many PATHS! I didn't-! And I-! Oh dear. W-what do we do? Darling, I can't-! It's so-!"

Damn it! I KNEW this would happen! This was an awful idea! Reaching for my husband's face, I cup his cheeks, propriety be damned. Pull him close to press his forhead against mine. Match my breath, dear. Focus, darling, just... focus. Close your eyes. You do not See. Curse crowded places and what they do to us. We should have moved to the countryside years ago.

But no, no Arthur would never leave his Sister. And I'll not leave him behind. Damn it all, why? WHY?

Why did she have to pick the Nobility Route?

It was bad enough, remembering this world "wasn't real". That it had a "plot" for Gods sake. Bad ENOUGH to realize that the monster under the bed very much WERE a real and present threat, that I SHOULD be concerned about. But fool that I am? Did I HAVE to fall in love with the Protagonist's brother? Sweet and foolish? A simple, if air headed man? Apparently!

All I could do, now, was try to protect him. Try and protect myself.

Ignore the nasty, judging looks, being sent our way. Piss off! The lot of you! I took no vows to YOU. Stood in no church! There us exactly ONE person in the train station I care about, and it is NONE of you, so keep your snide opinions to yourself! Breathe, Arthur. There we go, dear.

Pulling back slightly, I check his eyes. They flick and track things unseen. He is still unusually pale. He... he will be rather disappointed. He was excited to try the trains. To him? They are a bold new technology.

Maybe once we get farther from the city. Here, at least, he is drowning.

Then, a change. Sudden and swiftly building. Whatever Paths my husband traced were disappearing, narrowing, even as terror sweeped across his face. Only twice I had ever seen this before. Once, was an earthquake. The largest seen in over 400 years. The other? A bombing just before the royal wedding, we had been still engaged then. But the way he had frozen? Mid-sentence?

It is BURNED into my mind. Just like the horror that followed.

Bellowing, I command everyone to get out. Evacuate.

NOW.

But already... it is too late. Down the line of the train, terrible symbols flash into being. Molten red metal, on the side of the train cars themselves, instants before the BLOW. Unspeakable shrapnel bombs. Made of people and metal and MAGIC. The train cars lifted from the tracks by the knock back, smashing into fleeing crowds, even as the next car goes off. And then the next. And the next.

A writhing chain of death.

Like the dying spasms if a great snake.

My husband is frozen. No. As I drag him down? I realize with horror, worse. Seizing. It has NEVER been this bad! What is HAPPENING?! What Path is he SEEING that could cause such OVERLOAD? Terrified, I watch as thin trails of blood, seep from his eyes, his nose. Oh Gods. Oh GODS! Arthur? ARTHUR!

Love! Stay with me! Please! D-Darling, Please! Focus on my voice! You have to let them GO! Close your EYES, Arthur! Don't look! Please, DON'T LOOK! It's KILLING YOU!

"That's rather the point."

I stop. From on the ground, where I crawl. Dragging my unresponsive husband to safety. My gaze finally whips around to ahead of us. Amongst the chaos... stands a conductor. Pressed uniform clean and hair entirely too long. His eyes... oh Gods, his EYES. I do not need to touch him to know. That? THAT is not a human.

Not anymore.

Shrapnel flies harmlessly over us, but comes no where near him. As though where he stands is Forbidden to touch. All around him, those fleeing? Suffering? Do not notice him. Do not SEE. Yet, on instinct alone... avoid him.

Because, of course they do. B-because that?

That Is A Demon.

We weren't even remotely prepared for this. And even if we WERE. Everything is packed away. Pressed to the floor, all I can do? Is drag my husband close. Feel tear begin to fill my eyes and choke my throat, as I curse the Gods. Damn it. D-Damn it! I drag Arthur under me. A-as though... as though we were just... just resting at home. Cuddling, as we so often do.

I-It will be okay, darling. Come back to me. Arthur... Please...

(We promised to go together...)

"He really is useless, isn't he? Can't protect you. Couldn't warn you. Can't even die, where he's supposed to be. Really, how hard is it? To just get on the damned train? Quite inconsiderate, your worthless lump of a first husband. It really won't be hard, no doubt, to surpass him in every way."

I drag Arthur closer. Cradling his head to me chest. You'll have to go through ME, you fucking monster! It's.. it's a laughable defense. I'm tissue paper. We both are. With out supplies and the proper anti-demonics? H-he's going to SHRED us. But... but! I took a VOW.

Married this man.

I... I love him.

Even if he's not awake. Even if he's trapped in his own gifts by this BASTARD of a Demon. That's.. That's okay. I'm still here. W-We're still together. And I love him. Silly, ridiculous, air-headed fool that he is. My quite scholar. M-My best friend. I glare at the damnable creature before us.

"You really do have such lovely eyes." It notes, tilting it's head. "Does he appreciate them? Somehow, I doubt it. He makes you live in squalor, after all. Dresses you in rags and works you like an animal. You were meant for so much... more. I can feel it."

With a boneless grace he squats, bringing him closer even as I try to drag us away, he reaches out. One hand both perfectly human yet tipped with claws. In the distance, I hear doors being forced open. Commanding voices. Prayers and the glimpses of shining light. The Paladins are here.

Too late... I... I fear it is too late.

Demon skin touchs my face and I scream, as I am cast beneath the waves. It is so dark. Oh Gods. OH GODS. IT IS SO DARK. HELP ME. HELP ME! IT HURTS! It HuRtS! HELP M-!

"Shhh, drink deep and sink down, Love. I will be there to catch you. Forget about him. Forget about everything. You are made for so much more. We were meant to be together. Just let go, sweet."

"Just let go..."

#threepandas #yandere #yandere x reader #yanblr #reader insert #yanderecore #yandere otome #demonic yandere #married reader #psychic reader #bad End century demons #bad end century demons au #tw death

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edwinspaynes · 1 day ago

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I've spent most of my writing time working on chapter 3 of Now We're at the Starting Line (I Did My Time) this month. The good news is that the chapter will be out on the 15th as planned! The bad news is that I didn't write anything for Crystal week.

Luckily, this chapter has a Crystal-and-Edwin scene in it that I'm extremely proud of! I'm posting it independently a few days before the chapter for @crystal-week, because I love our little psychic so much and want to post something for her.

Starting Line spoilers under the cut!

CONTEXT: After getting home from an awful meeting with her mother, Crystal finds herself crying on the stairway of the Agency building. Edwin, after a rather emotional moment with Charles, ascends the stairs and sees her there.

Crystal should go home. She knew that she should – her bed would be a great distraction right now, and the promise of a night sleeping beside Niko’s ghostly form was a comfort. But she didn’t want to go home to Niko a crying mess, so she sat on the stairs between the parking lot and the Agency above with her knees pulled to her chest.

Her mom really didn’t care about her. She didn’t give two shits what happened to her daughter. It had never been clearer to Crystal than it was today, and it had already been pretty fucking clear.

You have twelve minutes, she had said.

This conversation has been a perfect waste of time.

Crystal, I’ve let you have your little delusion for long enough.

She should be beyond sadness. She shouldn’t be such a baby. She was Crystal Palace Surname Von-Hoverkraft, and she’d always been a force to be reckoned with. Not just psychic, not just magical, but strong. Emotionally sturdy. Reliable.

Even if her memories didn’t feel like her own, she recalled feeling that way. Powerful.

And, apparently, she couldn’t catch a break. Not even to have a good long humiliating cry on her own. Because the last voice she wanted to hear sounded behind her, echoing through the rickety stairwell louder than she’d ever wanted it to. “Crystal?” Edwin sounded weirdly worried. “Are you… crying?”

“No,” she said. “Someone’s fucking chopping onions.”

Edwin sat down beside Crystal gingerly, lowering himself with his hands awkwardly. He cocked his head to the side and hummed. “I can in fact recognize when you are being sarcastic,” he said. “You are not particularly subtle.”

Crystal snorted. “Did you think I was trying to be?”

“I do sometimes,” Edwin said lightly. “Perhaps not now, though, as you seem rather… tense.” He paused. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly stiff. “Would you like to… discuss your particular malady?”

Crystal touched the buns in her hair, one after the next. She was already crying, and Edwin knew it. She might as well talk to him. What was the worst he could do?

And, as much as she hated admitting it, somewhere deep inside her she knew that she and Edwin were birds of a feather. Crystal might as well talk to him, right? Besides, she didn’t really care what he thought about her. He’d see her, and he’d be honest. Maybe that was all she needed right now. So she took a breath and said, with absolutely no prelude, “it was my mother.”

Edwin’s response was short, and his voice was light. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Crystal said, grateful for his brevity. It made her feel like she could go on. “When Charles and I met up with her today, she was… I don’t know. A real asshole, honestly. But I hate saying that. She’s my mom, even if she was super clear that she didn’t want to see me.” She paused. “Did you know that she only gave me a fifteen-minute appointment? I’m her daughter, and she gave me a fifteen-minute scheduling block.”

“That is… less than positive,” Edwin agreed in an oddly sympathetic voice.

“That’s very British of you,” Crystal told him, and he smirked. She did, too, but felt her face fall again after a few seconds. “Just… and, like, I don’t want to bitch and moan about it, even if I’m speaking to the world record holder for bitching and moaning.”

“Now you are just needlessly instigating,” Edwin said, but there was an undercurrent of laughter in his voice. “A well-known facet of your personality, to be sure, but unnecessary right now.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Well, like I was saying, I don’t want to gripe too much, but like… she didn’t care that I was missing. She didn’t even fucking notice, and neither did my dad. What kind of parent doesn’t even notice when their child is missing? What kind of parent doesn’t even give it a second thought when they learned that their kid was a literal missing person?”

She was angry. She was indignant. But Edwin was looking off into the distance, his expression calm and contemplative. He looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back for some reason.

Which sucked, because one of the reasons that she liked Edwin – though, ugh, why would she think that – was that he never bit his tongue. But his face was careful now, even if his eyes shone with some unidentifiable emotion.

“What is it?”

Edwin turned his head toward her, his shoulders rolling. He assessed her with an almost practiced nonchalance before speaking. His voice was kind, but there was an undercurrent of anger in it that Crystal didn’t understand.

Not yet, anyway.

“I do actually know something of that,” Edwin said. “Believe it or not.”

Crystal blinked. “What does that mean?”

Edwin paused. He opened his mouth once, shut it, and shook his head quickly. “When I went to Hell - ”

“God, Edwin,” Crystal said. “I know that what’s happened to me isn’t as bad as literal Hell. You don’t always have to compare.”

“I’m not,” Edwin said. His fists clenched and pressed together on his lap. “I am very sorry that I have given you reason to believe that I am.”

All the fight went out of Crystal then. “It’s fine,” she said.

“Might I go on now?”

“Fine.”

“When I went to Hell,” Edwin continued, “my disappearance was labeled an Act of God. I believe I have told you that, but… well, I have had decades to contemplate the implications of that, and to research precisely what the declaration entailed.” He paused. “One facet of such a statement is that I was not looked for. Not by anyone. Society at large, to be sure, but I do not care much for the opinions of that lot. I do, however, care that my family abandoned my search.”

“Jesus,” Crystal said.

“Yes, I do believe that is a likely reason that no one searched for me.” Edwin’s voice was saucy, but Crystal sensed an undertone of real hurt. “They did not even start, in fact. I was an Act of God from the day I went missing. To this day, my death is what Charles calls a ‘cold case.’ I remain unburied, and my mother and father could not even be bothered to purchase an empty casket for me despite their abundance of money.”

“That sucks,” Crystal said sympathetically.

“Yes,” Edwin agreed. “It is not an ideal outcome. And I know that you think me unemotional, or cold. But remembering that no one around me cared to search for me – it is the only time that I remember that I was once a person.” He cocked his head. “But this is not about me. It is about the truth that you are far from alone in your sentiments, and-” Edwin made a vibrating sound with his lips, his eyes wide. “Well. That is rather enough emotion for one sitting. I daresay that I had far too many feelings after… well. I shall have to find a way to cleanse myself of it.”

Crystal snorted, and in that moment, she felt a bit herself again.

Then, to bring the mood back to something adjacent to normal, she turned toward Edwin. “Did you know that when I was born my mom signed my forehead?”

Edwin gave her an odd look. “With one of those… magical markers? Whyever would she do that?”

Crystal laughed slightly. “No, it was a temporary tattoo of her signature. It was like I was an art piece they were curating. They wanted to make some weird statement online.”

“Your internet is indeed an odd place. A wealth of knowledge, but also a wealth of independent publications waiting to be ridiculed.”

Edwin sidled off the stair next to her wordlessly and walked away, up the stairs and toward the comfort of his books and notes. Crystal watched him go, and he never turned back.

And she knew what she had to do.

She couldn’t give up, not for herself. Not just for her own sake, though that would have been a pretty damn good reason in itself. She had to understand her powers for Charles, for Edwin… and for Niko, who had been lighting her up inside in a weirdass way lately that she didn’t even understand. She had to know who she was, even beyond her memories, and if Maddy Surname wasn’t going to help her…

Well, fuck her.

Aicha, she thought, are you there?

Her eyes went white as Aicha responded.

Always, my sweet child.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #crystal week #crystal palace #edwin payne #starting line

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