#my head is running a thousand miles a minute and i don’t know what to do bc my body does not have the energy

[sunshineboy-greer-collins]

unstoppable force (all the ideas for fanfics and short stories piling up in my notes app) vs immovable object (lack of energy to actually finish writing any story or even actually start for that matter)

[only-1-a]

Imagining this within the first week of Charles and Edwin knowing each other. Charles has helped Edwin catch up on a BIT of what’s happened in the last 70 years, but Edwin can tell that Charles’ knowledge and strengths are not in history (finding out there was an even worse world war right after The Great War was certainly horrific though). So Edwin decides his best bet is to look in the public archives. Charles is sitting in the room with him absolutely bored out of his skull when he comments “Wow, you weren’t joking about not being great at people, were you?”

To which Edwin’s patience runs out, and he snidely responds, “Evidently not. If my researching the events of the last seventy years is so off-putting to you, then you can leave.”

Edwin was expecting some kind of token protest, but instead Charles just hops up, and says, “Cheers mate. See you.” Then LEAVES. Just like that. Edwin would like to be offended, but he supposes he did tell Charles to go. He just thought there would have been more to it than that? It almost feels…anticlimactic. At least he and Charles barely knew each other. Better to cut their losses now than get attached. Even as he thinks it he can’t help but feel maybe he was already growing attached.

So he spends the whole day digging through the archive and he learns so much about the past half century. It’s amazing and daunting just how much as changed. No wonder Charles hadn’t been able to go over even a fraction of it. It’s like the world is a completely different place.

He’s engrossed in his research when a head pops in through the door, and violently startles him with a cheerful, “Hey mate!” Edwin doesn’t have a heartbeat, but if he did it would be running a mile a minute from that fright. Charles is just grinning as he walks through the door. “I have to say, that’s my favourite part of being dead so far. I can just walk through walls.” Charles continues to chat happily, completely oblivious to Edwin’s shock.

Eventually Edwin gains enough of his senses back to interrupt Charles and say, “You came back.”

Charles just cocks his head, but he’s still smiling. “Yeah bruv. You’ve been here ALL DAY. The sun’s started going down. I know we don’t need to eat or sleep, but I figure you should take a break. Plus all the people playing football at the park left, so I got bored.”

Edwin doesn’t quite know what to say to that. He’s still working on the fact Charles came back. Charles hadn’t planned on leaving in any permanent way. He just went to do his own thing while Edwin did his. Yet instead of anything intelligent coming out of his mouth, he says “Football?”

“Oh c’mon! I know you had football even a thousand years ago. Yeah, I went to play with some other guys at the park across the street.”

Edwin snorts at that, and isn’t that a strange and wonderful feeling, laughing after all this time. He doesn’t even know if he did it often before he went to Hell, but here Charles has been making him laugh on and off for the week they’ve known each other. “Yes, we had football. You’ll have to explain how you managed to play a team sport without being seen by either team. You are right though. If it’s getting dark out, they’ll be turning the lights out in here soon. We might as well leave for the day.”

“Cheers. Mostly it involved messing with the ball so it went the wrong way when they kicked it. Oh! I kicked one over a fence. Do you think we can go grab it? How about your day? Learn anything exciting?”

Edwin leads them out, and now in a much better mood he shares something he thinks Charles will enjoy. “As a matter of fact, there was quite a lot about how music evolved, and styles from the Americas really took off since the 20s.”

[pedge-page]

I really love and laugh over your Joel and Preggo. I was wondering about Joel and his mother-in-law. How does Preggo get along with her mother? Maybe mother-in-law who lives out of town comes for a quick visit ? I leave to you what the dynamics or what directions “the mother-in-law” could be!

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Mother-in-Law

^some inspo photos of Pedro with friend or his family. Momma is touchy but it's nonsexual. He's just eating it up.

Warnings: angry sex turns soft, brief oral F receiving, getting caught (not sexy), favoritism war

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You remember when your parents used to hate Joel. From the moment you announced your engagement, they frowned. Why not someone who has a more stable job? Went to college? Doesn't have white in his beard already in his 30s?

But when you refused to back down, they begrudgingly put up with him. And he went above and beyond to impress them. Gifts, kind gestures, helping around their house and treating them to nice dinners. 

But oh boy, the SECOND your Facebook friends let it slip that you were expecting, your parents flipped on a dime.

Joel was now their favorite child. 

And your mom was—

“I hope she makes that famous apple pie of-hers,” Joel says, a bounce in his voice as the two of you drive to your Mom’s house for the weekend. 

Your upper lip gets caught on your teeth as you scowl at his more-than-she-deserves giddy smile. “What about my apple pie?”

“You don’t make apple pie.”

True. "Well. If I did..."

“—Then it would be the best.”

“You’re just saying that because I expect you to. You probably would hate it.”

Joel opens his mouth but hesitates for a moment. “I don’t know how you want me to respond here. We’re talking about a fictional pie you’ve never made.”

Grrr fuck this man and his logic.

He tries to alleviate the subject—maybe you wanted to give baking HIM an apple pie a go? ”She did buy me that Kitchen-aide mixer..."

You shake your head. Not this again… “No, she bought it for me!"

"It was my Christmas gift she gave me.”

"Why would she get you a NICE kitchen aide thousand dollar mixer, when you don't even BAKE??? PLUS I'm her actual DAUGHTER??"

Joel just shrugs. It pains you but you will never admit it's most likely true. Your mom bought it for HIM and you got breast pumps and a barf blanket. She used to get you the over the top nice things, and Joel would get socks. But now…

Your mom always loved you, probably a bit more than most. Sometimes it was overbearing, but that’s how she is. She’s nurturing, caring, always cooking and taking care of everyone, running a million miles a minute yet still having time to tell you everything is going to be ok after you stubbed your toe and cried about a broken nail. 

Though, she also expected to be treated like royalty by Dad. Momma knew her worth, knew her value to the family and Dad would grovel if he didn’t give her exactly what she wanted the moment she wanted it.

You’re glad that Joel doesn’t have to deal with a nagging wife who needs to tend to her ridiculous wants and emotional turmoil whenever it falls over less he be beheaded for his insolence.

You narrow your eyes at your bopping himbo Joel now, completely unaware of your thoughts as he jams to the radio. 

What a lucky guy he is.

When you pull up outside the old ranch home, Joel hops out and smells the air like it’s the Bahamas.

He helps you down from the passenger side of the truck before you both jump at the sound of your Mom screeching from the porch.

“JOOOOOEEEELLLYYYYYYYY!!!!!!”

His eyes crinkle in a warm smile as the little yet fiery woman you call Mom comes rushing towards you two like a marathon speed walker, pumping her arms at a whopping 1 mile per hour.

He opens his arms and as your mother wraps herself in his embrace. “Hey you!”

“Oooooh! Ohhh you’re so thin!” 

You raise your eyebrow. Joel’s no heavy weight champion, but he’s got a dad bod ready to rival any of the neighbors—a body that you LOVE more than anything else as it is.

Finally seeing you behind him, she shoves Joel aside and wraps you up in his warm hug. “MY BABYGIRL!!!!”

That’s right, let’s remember the pregnant one here please!

Your mom is the same height as you, but that doesn’t stop her from getting on her tip toes to kiss your forehead like she always did since the day you were born. She marvels at the size of your belly, filled with excitement and wonder and familiarity. “Oh my gosh look how much you’ve grown already, are you sure it’s not twins??? I have twins on my uncle’s side so its entirely possible—oh my gosh you’re so—“

Please don’t say fat please don’t say fat…

“SKINNY! JOEL! Have you not been feeding her????”

You snicker and throw your arm around her shoulders. “That’s what I’VE been saying. Momma, he’s been limiting snack time.”

Joel rolls his eyes. The two of you ganging up on him wasn’t in the cards just 5 seconds ago when he was sweet Joely.

 “My poor starving baby starving my baby’s baby!” she muses, forces Joel to bend at the knee for her fat wet kiss on his scruffy cheek before rubbing her kisses into your head on the other side.

“Come, come in! I’ve made—“

“Pie?” Joel pipes up, his eyes tilted eagerly towards the overly touchy woman suffocating you both.

You roll your eyes, already smelling the apple and cinnamon in the air. Of COURSE she would make his favorite pie. She runs inside to set the table.

Joel starts unpacking the truck but you cross your arms and tap your foot.

“What?”

He towers over you with a duffel slumped over his shoulder. “—Not that shit."

“I'm just saying, she’s nice to you all the sudden. It’s weird—“

“Don’t start.” He interrupts, slamming the trunk with a startling bang. Those biceps look fucking delicious rippling under his tight tight shirt— "Just want her to think I'm good for ya. Not tryin' to replace you."

You scoff him, as if anyone else could pull a man like that except you. 

But Joel can still feel that tension radiating off you, knowing you won’t truly acknowledge what’s bothering you until it blows into something ridiculous.

“Jooeellyyyy?” your mother shouts from the kitchen window.

“JoElLeY” you mimic with annoyance. “I used to be the only one with cute nicknames, ya know. You used to just be ‘J guy-my-daughter-is-dating’. And that even AFTER we got married.”

He chuckles before giving you a peck on the lips and guiding your waddling self inside. Joel doesn’t want you thinking that he would ever choose your mom over you, of course not! 

Just, for the now, being on her favorable side was something he had been working towards for years. You would just have to put up with her lipstick stains on his cheek and endless praise from his mouth of her fabulous cooking for this the weekend.

- 

Your mom zips around the kitchen, going off about the new nail salon down the road, the garden beds that can’t keep the chipmunks away, and how your old ultrasounds to compare baby sizes.

Joel watches the way she waddles. It’s EXACTLY as you do, and he starts to think maybe it’s not the pregnancy that is giving you such a signature walk. You both sit down at the table together and sigh, biting into a cookie and making a nasty face before putting it back on the tray.

Oh.

Oh wow.

Joel has to hide his smirk. You claimed so often how you were NOTHING like your mom. Your mom was pushy, demanding, filled to the brim with extra energy that would come out of no where—ironically all the things that defined you but obviously was not obvious to his wife yet. 

Maybe it’s the slight difference between you two is exactly how Joel can relate to Momma—showing love through acts service. Your mom is constantly working around the kitchen, cleaning, cooking, and it has nothing to do with expectations. He can see the little smile on her face, the skip in her step—she loves taking care of her people. She likes that you whine because only she can make your favorite coffee cake the exact way you like it. That you credit your own excellent laundry folding skills thanks to her methods that prevent wrinkles without ironing. How she always had the BEST soups for when you’re sick as if they cured like medicine itself, even if its just poured from a can—its done so with love.

There’s a unique bond between mother and daughter that Joel gets to witness. It’s not self serving either. There’s a sense of personal gratitude in being able to care for someone that makes their world worth living in.

Other times you can be a total bitch but honestly? That’s just pregnancy talk.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it? Grandmother’s just know these things—“

“Mom, I called you a few weeks ago and told you it was a girl. You didn’t just guess—“

“Just as you had predicted!” Joel jumps in. “Grandmother’s intuition is a real thing, and this sweet }Cookie’s got it.” He winks towards her and sips the lovely tea she had made him.

Your mom begins to favor his conversation over yours. “And names…?” She asks expectedly.

“We’re—“

“Yours is definitely in the mix!” Joel boasts.

She clasps her hands together, not seeing the deathstare you were giving him. Momma’s name was only in the mix for MIDDLE names, not firsts. You both had agreed you wanted your baby to have her own unique first that belonged to just her. 

He ignores you for now, hoping you can see the ‘please forgive me’, in his pupils as your mom goes to hug and kiss his messy hair like a bird feeding its young in the nest.

You clear your throat, eager to get her hands off your man and back on to the one actually giving her the grandbaby. “I think it’s time we settle down in our room. Right Momma?”

“Oh, you know your way up, I wanted to show Joel some of my new kitchenware—I just couldn’t decide what to buy so I got everything, knowing you’d be by this weekend! Come on, you can pick the ones you like.”

She grasps his hand and guides him, side to side with her piddled feet, into the next room and leaving you alone.

-

The blunt edges of your chewed up nails dig into Joel’s meaty chest. there are wrinkles in your forehead from how tightly concentrated you are at riding back and forth on his cock, your belly dragging along his and hips slamming down aggressively as you ride him with the pent up fury of the day.

Joel’s got a mix of emotions: your tight pussy sucking him in, kissing your cervix with each swallow, deep and delicious in that tight heat, plus the sheer feel and sight of you so pregnant yet fucking him so furiously while he lies back and takes it all in, trying not to cum too soon—but also knowing you’re more angry than you are thinking about the sex you’re having, and you’re going to injure yourself by all this energy not driving you anywhere closer to an orgasm, and he knows  he has to works out the knot in your brain before you can let the knot in your tummy snap.

“Why are you so upset?” He asks as his head rubs up along the pillow from each bounce of your body atop him.

“M—m not—upset,” you stammer, your fingers gripping his flesh even harder and slamming yourself down on his cock like you want to hurt it.

You’re sweating, visibly aggravated and probably in pain but refuse to quit.

Maybe you need this, but as he glances down at your bulging pregnant belly that is also being shaken up like a martini, he decides that his unborn baby doesn’t need brain damage too from your furious fucking.

Joel’s hands glide up along your flexed arms until he’s cupping your cheeks gently, wiping the tear that is building along your eyelashes. You slow your pace until you’re just sitting on top, impaled on his cock and letting out an exhausted huff.

“So why are you upset?” He asks calmly.

“You’re MY husband,” you say, and though your voice is full of confidence at the statement, it quivers just a bit at the end. 

Joel knew you would be pent up. That your mom was too touchy with him, and in his good faith to keep her good favor, he leaned in and let her butter him up, gave her the attention and kisses and hugs she asked for, and now its getting to you, and you’re jealous of your own mother—

“--and I’m HER daughter. But now she’s acting like you’re her favorite child too, even though I’m the one giving the grandbaby here, I used to be her favorite kid! Just me! I used to be the one BEGGGING her to give ya a chance but now suddenly she’s also loving you, out of the fucking BLUE,  like you’re all special when IT SHOULD JUST BE ME—.”

He blinks for a second, and you squeeze your walls around him as if signaling you’ll cut it off if he dare try to act confused. 

“Wait, are you jealous… of me?” 

Your eyes drift away, just in time for Joel to have the worst fucking reaction by chuckling so hard that the two of you are rolling over to your side.

He wipes his reddened face and calms his breathing so he can talk.

“That why you’re fuckin’ me like you wanna break me?” 

Maybe you did want to make a point to anyone who might be in the house about the hierarchy over who’s got right’s to loving Joel…specifically, to make that clear TO Joel himself. 

He scootches as close as he can, despite the big baby between your middles, and rubs his nose along yours, his palm brushing your cheek and centering your focus entirely on him.

“I’d shoot myself if I had to spend more than just this weekend with your mom. She’s nice, but I couldn’t EVER stand around bein’ pinched in the cheeks like that. Always doting on my ass all day, tryin’ to service me and make me feel like a spoiled porcelain doll that needed nurturin’ like a baby 24/7. I’d feel like a useless fuck. I think she n’ I are kinda alike in that. Wantin’ to take care of what’s ours.”

You snort in the boogers pooling in your nostrils. 

“Look, It’s nice gettin’ praise, THAT you could give me more of.”

“I don’t wanna talk about my mom when you’re inside me.”

“Then lets talk about you being a momma while I’m inside you.”

“Yeah… but I liked being the only one she adored. Now I gotta share?? With you????”

You nod shyly but agree. “I do appreciate you. I’ll try better to show it.”

“Nah, don’t want you to change. N’ I need you to listen to this because I know you’re gonna leave some details out intentionally when you go tattlin’ to Maria—but being pregnant with you has been the best adventure we’ve been on so far. You keep me on my toes and keep life interesting. I like the smile on your face when I give ya something only I can give. The dance you do when you get your little cookie dough milkshake thing, and the pout you make when I tell ya no, and you get all cute on me and do some ridiculous shit that I can’t deny you anymore cuz fuck, I want you happy sooo bad, and I wanna be the one that does it. YOU make me feel special.”

He smiles, stroking the hair away from your eyes. “Think of it this way: when did she suddenly start showin’ me some special treatment? When I put a baby in your belly. That’s it. She’s happy to be getting a grand kid, and she knows I’m officially stuck with you so might as well get used to it. I’m here to stay. “Ya spent so long tryin’ to get her to like me. She does now. Job well done! You don’t have to stress anymore. No need to get all greedy, baby though I know that’s just your thing,” he teases, rubbing his knee along your thighs to part them again.

You furl your lower lip out in a childish pout. “I think the baby is making me possessive over my belongings.”

“Oh? I’m a belonging now?” He wiggles his eyes brows. Slightly more relaxed, he takes advantage and smoothes his palm down your arm, behind your waist to squeeze your ass.

He’s about to pull you in for a victory kiss when your eyes shoot open.

“Wait… am I… the useless spoiled porcelain doll that needs nurturing 24/7 that you have to dote on all day??????”

“No! No you’re not useless!”

He’s offering a sweet smile, rubbing your shoulder with encouragement as a pregnant pause fills the air.

“…you got anything else you wanna deny in that or just that one part.”

He licks his lips before flipping you on your back and sliding down between your legs.

“You know what the BEST pie is?”

T h e o n e  b e t w e e n  m y l  e g s, you mouth out into the air, your belly conveniently keeping your lips out of frame as Joel spread your pussy and blows cool air on your nub.

“S’the one between your legs,” he whispers sensually against your thigh, nipping it and growling before dragging the tip of his nose through your slit, inhaling your scent.

You smile and cover your face with both hands. He’s cheesy, but he’s a keeper. 

and maybe, just maybe, worth sharing the love with.

The love that is quickly about to be snuffed out for the both of you as your mom opens the door and begins asking "Joel did you want the red one or the blue--AH!"

Joel and you both frantically cover your lower half, his head accidetanlly bumping into your belly at the same you to strain your back trying to sit up.

"MOM, SERIOUSLY!?"

she slams the door closed but calls out through the wood: "Oh that is NOT appropriate for the baby!" before stammering away.

Joel just chuckles into your breasts. "How does she think I got the baby in you?"

You shake your head and smack him, trying to feel more ashamed then amused right now.

- - - -

More Momma in Law and Sarah

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-dinero @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

[jeon-ify]

NASTY- SONG MINGI (18+)

yeah i want you to get nasty,

do that thing you know i like, no one’s watching

warnings: read and find out. 18+.

FRIDAY

“welcome in, guys! what brings you in today?” the salesman asks. mingi’s been busy with schedules, realizing that he hasn’t seen you much, nor has he gotten to do anything he really wanted to do.

today was the day he’d spoil you. you didn’t want to go out, but mingi insisted that he’d blow all his money on whatever you wanted today since ‘my money is yours.’

the first place you went to was YSL. you bought a pair of the classic YSL heel, mingi letting you swipe his card the minute you picked up the pair. he stood and watched you try on the shoe, in admiration of how well deserved you are of everything good in the world. it was his love language— gift giving.

“what do you think, baby? do my feet look weird?” you observed your foot, making sure that your gold anklet matched the shoe. you never took off that anklet, you’ve had it on since the first time you spent your birthday with mingi.

“no, baby. i think they suit you really well. makes you look so elegant, my love.” he kneels before you, holding your foot and caressing your bare and smooth calves. his dimples rise to peek at you, making your skin crawl in arousal.

“thank you. i think i’m gonna get these, then.” you put them back in the silk bag they were once in, and handed them to the salesman. you put your shoes back on, walking over to the register to swipe your boyfriend’s black card.

“baby, you really don’t have to be my sugar daddy all the time.”

“stop questioning how i show my love. plus, you deserve it, don’t you, pretty girl?” he’s holding your bags, letting you walk free-handedly around the mall.

“i do.” you continue a conversation, only to notice that you’re not getting any responses. you catch mingi staring at the lingerie store on your left side, realizing that he’s hard, too.

“baby, we have to come in here. go try some things on and call me to the back so i can see them.” he holds your hand, guiding you into the store as he steps back and waits outside for you to call.

you pick out a burgundy corset laced set with black diamonds lining the chest area, with the back exposed. attached was a knee strap that had dangling diamonds dripping down your thigh, while the other thigh was left blank. you felt so sexy, almost like if you’d called mingi back here, he’d rip it off and have to pay for it before you’d even get to decide if you like it or not. nonetheless, you finish putting on the thigh strap to complete the look, you call mingi’s phone and he comes to the 7th fitting room you chose. you chose the last and farthest room from the store, knowing how mingi is.

he slowly pulls the curtain, eyeing you up and down with his bottom lip sitting between his pearly whites. his mind runs a thousand miles an hour, feeling like he’s above the clouds and underground at the same time. he watches the way you breathe, the way your hair moves down your back when you take the deep breaths. he watches the way you stare into his eyes through the mirror, watching him slowly walk towards you and closing the curtain behind him.

“you like? i think this color suits me, don’t you think, mings?” you ask as you run your hands up your chest, admiring the way your cleavage sits in the top.

mingi doesn’t respond. you catch him staring at the diamonds down your thigh, and down to the gold anklet hugging your ankle. his eyes move up to your perked ass, then right back down to your thigh. it’s something about your thighs that mingi could never get enough of. the smoothness and the way they feel around his head when he’s devouring your pussy.

“you can’t rip this off me, yet, mingi. i like it and i wanna get it. you can fuck me later. you know i can read your mind.” you chuckle. he breathes, his hand moving to travel up your waist and up to your neck to push you onto his body. your head is thrown back onto his shoulder, watching him through the mirror as he kisses down your neck.

“but baby, you look so nasty. you look so fuckable. like i wanna cum on your face and let you squish my face with your thighs while you wear this thigh strap you have on.”

he pulls on the elastic, only to snap it onto the skin. you gasp, he squeezes your throat tighter and kisses your temple.

“get dressed, i’ll pay for this and we’re going home.” he unties the corset from the back, then kneels to unclip the strap on your thigh. you slide the corset off, taking your clothes from mingi’s hands as he steps out and pays for the set.

mingi grabs the rest of your bags and you both head out of the building as soon as you can. mingi could not wait any longer to fuck you in your new set.

•

SATURDAY

“mingi, please go make me pancakes. i’m too lazy,” you whine. you really don’t feel like doing anything at all this evening. you craved pancakes at 7:00pm, mingi being wide awake and already in the kitchen.

“you’re so lazy. but yes, i will make you some pancakes, lovey. how many do you want?” his bare back muscles flex with every move he made, his hair bouncing in its place.

“like 4. but don’t drench them in syrup.”

“fine.”

“thank you.”

as you downed your last pancake, mingi watched you get up and put your plate in the sink and wash your hands. you wore his basketball shorts and your tanktop, along with a pair of black socks. your feet were cold, as you’d just moved in and you’re having trouble with your heat.

and so was mingi.

he watched the way your ass and hips moved whenever you walked anywhere. he stared at your waist and how your long hair covered your back. he felt himself getting rock hard as he remembered the scene in the fitting room yesterday evening.

he called you over to him before you sat down across from him.

“y/n. come here.” he motioned for you to sit on his lap, not thinking about breaking eye contact with you.

“where did you put that red set we bought yesterday, hm? tell me darling, when are you gonna wear it?” he runs his pretty fingers up the back of your thighs, landing a sharp spank on your left cheek.

“well we just bought it yesterday. i’ll put it on soon.”

“i think you should go upstairs and put it on. now.”

you, without a doubt, run up the stairs and pull out the set from your closet. you slide on the strap lastly, making sure it sat in the right spot.

as you finish putting on the set, mingi walks up the stairs and into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

“fuck, all this for me? do you understand how lucky i am? guys would be on their knees for you in a second. but i get to have you and see you like this.”

he slowly moves towards you at the edge of the bed, lifting your chin up to maintain eye contact with you while he slides his hand through your thighs.

“i would never let anyone see me the way you do, mingi. i’m all for you. i belong to you.”

you could’ve sworn you just heard him moan. you feel his breath hitch under his touch, sweat forming around his orange hairline. he leans down to kiss you, nothing but tongue and teeth. he pulls away to catch his breath as his eyes are rolled back.

“that’s right, you belong to me. now, lay back for me, ‘m gonna taste your pretty pussy. want you to squeeze my head with your pretty thighs.”

as your body reacts to his deep toned silk voice, you lay back onto the bed, feeling mingi following you, planting kisses all over your chest. he kisses on the corset with his wet lips, falling in love with your body in every lifetime.

you are mingi’s ride or die. though it sounds cliche, mingi cannot live without you. he comes home around 2am after a long day at work, and you understand him. he wishes things were different with his idol life and his personal life, but you make up for it. he loves you more than anything in his life. in fact, you may be the only thing he does love.

these thoughts cloud mingi’s brain as he admires and worships your body tonight, tears enveloping his precious eyes.

“mings, why are you crying? is something wrong?” you sit up on your elbows, your left hand caressing his cheek while he kisses your lower stomach through the burgundy fabric.

“i fucking love you. i would die for you. you don’t understand that i cannot physically live without you, baby. you’re so beautiful, i don’t know what to do.” he lifts your thighs and places them on his shoulders while he kneels on the floor at the edge of the bed, kissing the insides of your legs, and to unbutton the bodysuit with his pearly white teeth.

“mingi, i love you. i love you so fucking much, i can’t imagine being with anyone else.” you moan out as he licks a stripe up your bare pussy, your thighs immediately shutting around his head as the diamonds on the strap poke his temples.

“you taste so beautiful. would rather die than never have this pussy again, my love. open up for me.”

as he continues to eat you out, he plunges his long, thick fingers into your heat and you finish all over his hand and wrist. he licks a long stripe from your pussy, gathering your cum and his drool. he brings his face closer to yours as you open your mouth. he gathered the juices in his mouth as he spit them into yours, immediately swallowing and sticking your tongue out to show him that you’ve swallowed.

“good girl. my beautiful girl. i’m gonna fuck you now, let you feel my love.” he unzips his pants, tossing them somewhere in the room. he throws his glasses onto the nightstand by your bed, then takes the rest of his clothing off, leaving nothing but his silver chain with your initial on it.

he brings his palm up to your mouth so you’d spit in his hand, then he rubs it on the base of his cock. he pushes his cock into your heat, making you immediately gasp in response, still not used to his size.

“fuck! mingi, you’re so big, i d-“ you claw at his lower stomach, clenching your thighs and scratching his hips with the black diamonds on the strap.

“baby, you’ve taken me hundreds of times, what’s changed?” he slowly pushes into you, using his question to distract you from his size ripping you open.

“i- fuck, fuck fuck! baby, oh my god—“ you cry out, mingi’s thrusts already picking up the pace. he doesn’t hesitate to thrust at his own speed, knowing that you’ve taken him hundreds of times, but you were extra sensitive today.

mingi took your wrists in his hands, using them to hold you onto his dick while he pounds into you deeper. he lifts you up as your legs wrap around his tiny waist. he feels like he’s on cloud 9, with the way you’re gripping his length.

“feel it. feel how much i fucking love you. how much i’d do for you. how much i’d lose for you.” he lets you go as you fall loosely back onto the bed. he comes down to spoil your mouth with his sloppy kisses, breathing in your moans and cries.

“mingi, i love you! i love you so fucking much, baby. you belong to me and i belong to you,” you cry out. you feel so blissful in a moment like this with mingi. its rough, its raw, its real. his love language always spoke its full dialect to you, while he showed how sorry he was for the lost time.

“do that thing i like, baby. grip my dick, make me cum.” his head is thrown back while he fiddles and tugs at your thigh strap. he feels your pussy gripping his length, unintentionally, since you’re already about to cum.

“fuck! fuck, stop, i’m gonna cum.” he gasps. you’ve already opened a gate and you do not want to close it. so, you grip onto his cock again, harder this time. he groans louder, coming down to wrap his pretty hand around your throat. he fucks into you rapidly, chasing his orgasm just as much as you chase your third one of the night.

“you’re still fucking me and you’re not using the safeword. i don’t think you want me to stop, mings.” you smirk at him, almost mocking his submissive demeanor.

“you’ll kill me one of these days, yet i feel so fucking alive with you. feels so good.” his pace comes to a halt, slowing down and twitching inside your ovaries.

“cum in me, mings. wanna feel your cum all in me.” you contract around him again. he comes down to kiss you, then sucks on your bottom lip, pulling away with a pop as he finishes in you.

“my god, baby. you’re fucking phenomenal. i love you.” he pulls out, plopping down on the spot beside you. you both give each other a few minutes before getting up.

a few minutes pass as mingi regains himself, he flips you over to untie the corset, letting your lungs finally breathe the air you needed. he unclips the strap on your thigh, putting it on the nightstand as keeps for the next time he wants to fuck you again. he walks over to the bathroom, soaking a towel with extra warm water to clean you up.

he turns you over and lifts your thigh to wipe the juices around your inner thighs, then plants a kiss on the cleaned area.

“the things i would do for you, my love.”

[mitskicain]

navi | m.list

. ⁺ . ✦ the doghouse — ken sato x reader

© mitskicain all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.

synopsis: date night; you talk about dealbreakers and what you want out of life, and each other.

content warning: cursing and profanity, suggestive, innuendos

word count: 1.4K

· · ─────── ·{ ✐ᝰ.ᐟ}· ─────── · ·

003: play date

He arrives fifteen minutes early, with Indian, Chinese, Italian and Japanese takeout.

“I didn’t know what you liked,” he says, letting himself in and kicking his shoes off by the door, setting the bags on the counter. “So I got a little bit of everything.”

You stare at the food with a bewildered look in your eyes. This would last you the whole week. What the hell is this guy—made of money? Well, okay, granted his apartment and how he didn’t even ask you for the 400 bucks back suggests maybe, but christ, doesn’t he have other things he should be spending this on, like supercars or thousand dollar clothing?

Your train of thought is interrupted by him shoving you a greasy tub of butter chicken, alongside some garlic naan with a side of udon noodles. Interesting combo. You take your seat on the floor, setting the food on the shallow coffee table that’s littered with unopened mail and receipts.

“Do a lot of shopping?” He asks, mouth full of lasagna—he’s already chowing down on the food without as much as waiting for you to have taken your first bite. What a gentleman.

“No, well, not for me,” you reply, pushing around the food on your plate, “it’s for them.” You point towards your two dogs that are eyeing him keenly from behind the screen door, their eyes a flash of light in the dark. From a stranger's perspective, they must look absolutely vicious, but to you they were just Lassie and Strauber—from childhood, from the old days.

“Mm,” he hums, taking a sip of his Diet Coke. “Not much of a dog person, I’m afraid.”

You make a face.

“Date’s over, eugh,” you say, “dealbreaker.”

The both of you laugh, faces cracking up and all teeth—a flash of canines, again—something in your stomach churns.

“Seriously?” You ask, looking over at Ken who’s still hunched over, trying to stifle his laugh. “How could you say no to dogs?”

“I got chased by one as a kid, I guess it stuck.” he says, scooping up another mouthful of lasagna. He motions over to the two, “they bite?”

“Hard,” you grin, reminded of the time you asked him the same question. “When they bite, they don’t let go.”

He grimaces a bit, imagining the bloody, messy scene. You dip the naan in the curry, mopping up all its goodness. Ken devours his plate, and reaches for more—it’s a disgusting sight, like he’s been starved for days—but there’s something fulfilling about it too, like watching Strauber absolutely demolish a serving after you run an extra mile with her.

“You’re a mess,” you say, leaning forward and wiping a sauce streak away from the edge of his lip. You see the surprise on his face when your finger meets his skin, like he doesn’t expect it—didn’t know you were capable of being tender. Part of you didn’t expect it either.

Silence for a moment; the atmosphere still. The two of you realize you barely know anything about the other. You were just two strangers sharing a meal in your apartment.

“I read some of your stuff from the dayplanner,” he says, clearing his throat, hand on the back of his head. “It’s really good, I mean—you’re a writer?”

You give him an incredulous look, and laugh, shaking your head.

“No, not me, well—” you set the plate on the table and reach for your drink, some Indian rose milk he picked up that actually tasted really good, “not yet, at least. I’m hoping to make my big break soon.”

Silence, again—just for a second.

“You’ll make it,” he says, voice soft, looking over at him. His head is resting on the cushion of the couch, hair messy and cheeks slightly warm. Did he run on the way here? From restaurant to restaurant, trying to figure out what you would like before deciding: fuck it, and getting everything? You feel his fingers twitch slightly, inching towards yours. You turn away and wrap your arms around yourself.

“Don’t do that,” you struggled to pinpoint the feeling—the twisting, the churning—it made you feel sick, like you wanted to puke. The world seemed to spin. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you believe in me,” your voice falters. “It’s cruel, you know—giving false hope.”

He presses his lips into a thin line. He reaches for your hand again, this time you turn to look at him.

“I do mean it.” He says.

God.

You tear your gaze away from him—it’s too much, all of this. You can’t possibly comprehend it. His fingers tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You reach for his hand and look up at him—his eyebrows furrowed, gray irises shimmering in the low light, mouth slightly open.

“Hey,” he breathes, voice just barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” you reply.

“Am I still just a one night stand?” He asks, and your stomach sinks. You frown a little.

“What does it matter?” You ask.

“Because I want to be more than just that,” he says, quick and easy. He sucks in a breath, as if preparing himself. “I want you.”

Your shoulders fall, and you lean forward into him, his lips finding the sensitive skin on your neck; nibbling and sucking. You squirm underneath his touch.

“Please,” he sighs in between kisses, his breath hot against your ear. “Please.”

His teeth sink into your flesh, followed quickly by his tongue rubbing soothing circles, then a kiss—like apologizing. He does this throughout the entirety of your neck, from underneath your jaw all the way along your collarbone. Your skin is slick with saliva and sweat, face red from the heat. Your hands find their way up his neck, when they grab a handful of his hair—you hear him moan.

God, the way he sounded.

“Please,” he says again, begging. Breathlessly. Desperately. “Please, I’ll be good.”

You whine, and push him away, trying to catch your breath. He falls back but catches himself by his arms, biceps flexed and straining underneath the black shirt he wore. It’s tight enough that you can make out the rouse of muscles underneath. His face is flushed, eyes half lidded, mouth open—breathing shallow. What a sight.

God.

He’s about to lean forward to reach for you again when he knocks over the half full cup of rose milk all over you, splattering all across your legs and the floor. His face twists into a look of panic, and he frantically grabs a fistful of tissues, trying to dab away at the mess before you change your mind or yell at him.

“Stop,” you say, and he freezes in his tracks, looking up at you. You tilt your head, gauging his reaction—the way he looks up at you with wide curious eyes, arms still frozen in position, so eager to please—like a dog.

“You said you’d be good, right?” You murmur, leaning back, “then clean this up.”

He tries to wipe at the mess but you stop him again, making a sharp ‘tsk’ sound with your tongue. He stops, perplexed gaze fixed on you, trying to figure out what you mean. You smile at the sight and raise a pointed foot, his hands instinctively reaching for the flesh of your calves.

“Lick,” you command, a glint in your eye. He stays still for a moment—breath hitched in his throat—before leaning down, eyes still fixed on you, and kisses the skin of your legs. His tongue is warm, gliding over you in slow strokes, sending shivers up and down your spine. You can feel the soft, velvety texture of him as he moves upwards, savoring every inch of you. The sensation is both soothing and electrifying. A mix of gentle pressure and lingering heat.

You lean forward, and push him back again, his back against the couch. He’s surprisingly lenient, not struggling when you climb onto his lap and straddle his hips. You trail your hands on his chest and you feel his heart, thundering against his ribcage. His hands feel up the milky skin of your thighs, resting on your waist.

“Please,” he says again, so close you can feel his breath on your lips. “Please, I want you.”

You grab his hands off your thigh and pin them by his side, a gasp escaping his lips. Your other hand grabs his face roughly, forcing him to look at you before you turn his head to press a wet trail of kisses up his jaw. He shivers and moans underneath your grasp.

“Mmm,” you hum into his skin, pulling away to whisper in his ear. “I love it when good boys beg.”

prev | next

· · ─────── ·{ ✐ᝰ.ᐟ}· ─────── · ·

author’s note: Lassie and Strauber watching you make out with him from out the backyard be like 👁️👄👁️ HAHAHAHAH i love men when they beg and yearn like 💥💥 need him crawling, sobbing on his knees 🫡🫡‼️‼️‼️ my favorite genre of men is when they’re a little bit pathetic HEHEHEH🤭🤭🤭🤭 BUT ALSO‼️‼️ I wanted to ask: do you guys have any specific dealbreakers when it comes to dating? Like for me I absolutely can’t stand when they’re rude to staff like waiters or salespeople 😭😭🙏 or when they’re messy eaters—what about you guys?? feel free to share them in the comments, and as always, thank you for supporting my work ‼️‼️‼️‼️ MUAH MAUHHH👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

taglist: @luneariaa @moonjellyfishie @sweetcheeksbby-deactivated20240 @shittingonyourgrave @shauu @witcwitchy @fcklxnaa @despacito-uwu16 @mqshido @miffysoo @ybbayk @hore4ken @mochminnie @femmefqtqle @miratastic @lovingyeet @mythicalmo @yourfellowmarzipan @softdumplingposts @shinebright2000

[totalswag]

dinner and sunsets — DREW STARKEY

authors note first off, thank you all so much for the love on my last two fics. writing this took me a few days and i wrote over 2k words too. i hope y’all enjoy reading. feedback is always appreciated <3

summary drew has been gone filming his upcoming movie in Italy for a few months. you make the decision to fly out to surprise him with your three month old daughter.

warnings none just a bunch of cuteness of dad!drew with baby his baby girl.

Drew has been filming in Europe for quite some time now. When he first left it was extremely hard because you guys are usually together. Tears were falling from your faces dropping him off at the airport. In all seriousness, you couldn’t be more proud of him and all his accomplishments he’s done to get where he’s at now in career.

Leaving was hard for Drew because he was leaving you and your four month old daughter, Tatum, home while he’s thousands of miles away. You knew you would come visit him and see what Europe is like. So, that’s what you did. The plane ride was long but it was worth it the moment you made it to Italy. 

For the most part Tatum did a good job before and during the flight. There were moments where she would fuss and cry but settled down once you calmed her down. In other words, flying with a baby isn’t easy. 

Drew’s manager and you have been texting back and forth about the whole thing. When you got to Drew’s apartment he’s been living in, you were in complete awe when you walked into his bedroom where a picture of Tatum and you were placed on his night stand. His manager said that he would be coming back in an hour once they are done filming for the day.

Tatum laid on her back kicking her feet like all over the place and making a bunch of noise while you unpacked your clothes. Tatum was a spitting image of Drew especially in the eyes and especially the facial expressions she makes. She continues to grow by the day, you wish time didn’t fly by so fast.

“Are you excited to see daddy?” grabbing both her tiny feet, moving them up and down, making her giggle at your gesture. 

An hour passes, Tatum’s sleeping, and you are on your computer looking up stuff. You look up from your computer to your phone, Drew should be here any minute, you thought. Taking your phone, placing it towards the door to get Drew’s reaction, and hitting record when you heard the front door open. Surprisingly Tatum didn’t wake up from his walking inside.

Footsteps slowly made their way towards the bedroom. Your heart is beating at a rapid pace as he gets closer to his room. Taking a seat by the edge of the bed, placing both hands on your lap. Drew’s on his phone typing when he enters the room, you playfully roll your eyes, clearing your throat to grab his attention.

He looks up from his phone quickly.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me” his face lit up once he saw his two beautiful girls on his bed waiting for him. He puts his phone in his pocket, opening his arms. 

“Hi baby” you run into his arms, “i missed you so fucking much” you whispered softly.

“I miss you guys so much, you have no idea” he explains, placing both hands on your cheeks, and kissing you on the lips. Fireworks exploding in your stomach as your lips touch.

You let Drew pull away first. You guys just stare at each other, not saying a word. He wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. You don’t know what you would do without him in your life. 

Drew goes to open his mouth but is interrupted by Tatum yawning; you let out a chuckle when he shuts his mouth then grins, looking at Tatum who’s opening her eyes.

“My little angel is up from her nap, huh?” he coo’s with the biggest smile. You see a smile creep up Tatum's mouth from her dad’s words. She gets a little too excited and starts moving her body – she usually gets like this with Drew.

He picks her up, placing her on his hip, and kissing the top of her head. The bond they share is unbelievable. From the moment Drew held Tatum in his arms you knew they were meant for each other. Before you got pregnant all Drew would talk about was he wanted a girl for his first child and when he found out, he couldn’t stop crying. 

He was so relieved to see you both. Every text, facetime, and phone call, he always mentioned how much he misses his girls and wishes you were here. Now he has you both, he feels complete and so do you.

“When did you guys get in?” he asks.

“About two hours ago. She slept for most of the time and I took a little nap too” you explain, taking the last set of clothing from your suitcase.

“How long are you staying?” He says without hesitation.

“A month” you said dragging the th at the end.

His jaw drops.

“This is the happiest day of my life.”

“I’m glad you got here safe though. I think we should stay in for the rest of the day and relax since my two beautiful girls had a very long flight to see daddy” Drew exclaims while making eye contact with Tatum, lightly tickling her with his right pointer finger. Little giggles left her mouth.

“Sounds like a good idea to me” you smile, admiring the two. 

Two days go by, Italy is so beautiful. You don’t want to leave this place. Drew brought you and Tatum on set to watch him film a few scenes and meet the cast. Going to the museum was one of your favorite things to do as a family and especially looking around the markets with all the fresh fruits and vegetables then buying them afterwards.

Spending time as a family makes your heart full.

Drew wanted to take you out to this amazing restaurant he went to with a few cast members one of the first weeks he arrived. He wasn’t kidding when he said the pasta was to die for. The service was great, pasta tasted delicious, and the wine was unbelievable. 

The sunset looked absolutely stunning from your perspective. With the music playing in the background and lights made the experience feel magical. You grabbed your phone from your purse, taking a couple pictures.

You told him what life’s been like back home – you’ve been busy with work, hanging out with friends, planting flowers in front of the house, and taking care of Tatum obviously. 

Drew talked about filming and how it’s been going for the last few months. One of the things he said that stood out the most is how proud he is of himself for coming this far and never giving up. Actually tears started to build in your eyes. 

“Baby, you saying that makes me so happy because you’ve gone through so much in your career. This job you have right now is huge for you and the fact you got the role is even a bigger accomplishment” you say with joy.

“Thank you baby, that means a lot to me”, taking a hold of your hand, gently squeezing it.

After Drew paid for dinner, he insisted you guys take a walk around for a bit and you agreed. The weather felt nice with the breeze.

Drew pushed the stroller with Tatum in her car seat playing with her toys— she started putting one of them in her mouth and talking to herself in her own baby language. It caught Drew and you off guard.

After dinner you guys decided to walk around the area and try to get Tatum to close her eyes. Since you are staying for a month, you want her to get used to the time change. You guys walked into a shop with a bunch of snacks; you couldn’t take your eyes off the varieties of different snacks which aren’t like the snacks in the states.

Picking out a few snacks that caught your eye and bringing it to the cashier. Drew recommended these chips he really likes.

“Should we walk around more or start making our way to the apartment” you suggested, putting the bag with the snacks under the stroller. 

He thinks for a second, scrunching his eyebrows together, “let’s walk around.”

“I can’t believe you are staying for a month with me” Drew beamed, placing a kiss on your head then softly patting your lower back.

“I can’t believe it either. Flying with a three month old definitely is not easy but this will be an amazing month with my husband and our baby girl where we’ll make memories that will last for a lifetime” you say with honesty in your voice. You meant every word you said too.

Drew called his manager that you guys were ready to be picked up and where you guys were waiting. Tatum started to get fussy in her carseat– she was uncomfortable in the position she’s been in for thirty minutes. 

When she sees Drew reaching in to unbuckle her she calms down instantly. She lets out a dramatic sigh making Drew and you laugh.

You bring your hand up to Tatum’s face, gently brushing your thumb across her cheek like you always do when admiring her cute face. As your thumb touches her cheek, she shyly turns her head into Drew’s chest.

You were about to say something about how cute they look but were interrupted by Drew's name being called from a group of girls across the street catching your guys attention right away. Since you arrived in Italy a few fans have asked for a picture with Drew or you.

Drew waves the girls over, they squeal when he acknowledges them. They introduced themselves the second they stood in front of you three. Tatum’s face went from happy to why is there a group of girls in front of me. 

When the girls saw Tatum they all said aww and complimented her outfit you picked out for her tonight. Fans don’t always get to see Tatum out like this but when they do, you guys kindly ask them to not take video or pictures of her.

“Can we please get a picture please?” one of the young girls asked nervously. 

“Of course we can, Y/N can you take her” you nod, taking her in your arms.

You held Tatum in your arms while Drew talked with his fans. They were so sweet and respectful the whole time. They started asking you questions about how the trips have been and what it’s like being a mom. 

Ten minutes later, Drew’s manager pulls up behind the girls. He gives them one last hug before parting ways with them. You could tell by the look on their faces that they didn’t want to say goodbye, that made your heart break. Tatum was already strapped in her carseat when he walked over to put her in the middle seat.

The drive back to the apartment wasn’t bad. When you walked into the apartment you guys made your way towards the bedroom. Only thing on your mind was taking a shower. Drew stayed with Tatum while you freshened up then showered after you. Tatum was able to get her bath in like she usually does. 

Drew gave her a bath while you did your skin care, brushed your teeth, and put lotion on. Giggles from Tatum filled the bathroom while you were in the middle of washing your face. You walked out of the bedroom to the washer to wash your towels then back to the party in the bathroom

You could hear Drew talking to Tatum as you got closer to the room. You stop your tracks when you enter the room, leaning against the wall, listening to Drew talking.

“You are the cutest baby on this earth” you can imagine the smile on his face as said those words. “You even have your moms beautiful smile too. You are lucky to call her your mommy. I’m so lucky to have you both in my life.”

Your hand lands on your mouth. Why does he have to be so sweet all the time? 

His head turns when he hears you walk in. He smiles at you as you lean down, giving him a kiss on the lips. He pulls away but you grab his face kissing him again. 

“I love you, you know that” whispering in his ear. “I know and I hope you know I love you more.” 

When you put your attention on Tatum, she had the biggest smile on her face when she splashed everywhere; her little legs and arms moving fast. Drew couldn't help but laugh at his daughter enjoying her bath. She loves getting her hair washed, she does this face where she closes her eyes and puts both hands in a fist and does this look like she’s in heaven. She has a lot of hair too.

“Are you enjoying your bath? It looks like you are having a grand old time” Drew says in his baby voice, gently washing Tatums hair. She replies in her baby gibberish then brings her right hand to his wrist, gripping on it. She’s never done this before.

You both gasps, turning your heads making eye contact. The look on his face says it all. You scoot closer, laying your head on his shoulder. 

Once you were all settled for bed, Drew and you made your way to the bed. You breastfed Tatum till she fell asleep then handed her to Drew and had her on his chest while burping her with you laying by his side. 

Inside Drew felt complete with you here with him after being away for a few months. Having his baby girl on his chest and the love of his life lying next to him makes him smile in the moment.

Spending a month in Italy seems like it’s going to be filled with love and memories.

my taglist <3

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight

if you would like to be added to my taglist leave a comment

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Hangry

Word count: ~2,000

Pairing: Steve x reader and Bucky (platonic), no pronouns used

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff. Mild cursing.

It's been a year and a half since my last posted works! I'm VERY out of practice 😅 I'm trying to work on some smaller prompts on my list while I get myself back into writing and continue working on the Loki blip in the universe prompt. It's not my best, but I hope you enjoy in any case!

This was based on a Prompt for Steve x reader as well as a prompt where reader and Bucky bug Steve while he's making a public appearance.

“Tell us, Captain, sir - how did the Avengers manage to track down the villain’s hideout this time?”

“Well, good sir - we have state-of-the-art technology that allows us to track electronic signals from thousands of miles away…”

“Ugh, he is such a ham!” you muttered to Bucky under your breath as you observed Steve from a distance. “We’re never going to make it to the store if he keeps stopping every time a reporter tries to chat him up!”

“Steve can’t resist bragging about us,” Bucky chided, nudging you with his elbow.

“Yeah, well… some of us are hungry!”

You huffed and folded your arms across your chest in annoyance, trying to catch the reporter’s eye with your scowling face, but she was far too enamored by the star-spangled captain to pay you any mind. How had a simple grocery run for ice cream turned into a twenty-minute interview with the press??

“I swear, I’m gonna go drag him away from that reporter by the ear if he doesn’t stop talking in the next 60 seconds,” you grumbled.

“Why do that when we can mess with him instead?”

You turned to look at Bucky, who had a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Go on…”

He smirked, shooting you a wink. “Watch and learn.”

You watched silently as Bucky meandered casually toward where Steve stood speaking with the reporter and her photographer. Steve was none the wiser to his friend approaching from behind.

“… but the serum isn’t the only thing that makes us heroes. It takes a whole load of grit and determina-HAY-tion-!”

Steve flinched as his best friend subtly reached up and pinched his side mid-sentence, effectively silencing him. The captain recovered quickly, though, chuckling nonchalantly as he flashed Bucky a look. He continued on with his sentence after that, refusing to acknowledge what just happened.

“Wait - Steve is ticklish??” you whispered incredulously as Bucky returned to your side.

“Very. Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed the serum eliminated weaknesses like that.”

Bucky chuckled. “Nah - if anything it made it worse.”

“Oh-ho, I’ve got to try this for myself!”

You quietly paced up behind the blabbing soldier, pretending you were casually walking past to avoid drawing attention from passerby. As you stepped by him, you reached out and swiftly dug your fingertips into his ribs for less than a second. Steve choked on his words and whipped his head around instinctively. You ducked out of his field of vision and prodded his other side.

“Excuse me,” Steve requested politely, turning around as nonchalantly as possible to find you standing behind him with a guilty grin on your face. “Can I help you?”

“I just came to remind you that we have somewhere we have to be,” you stated sweetly.

“Yes, but it isn’t urgent,” he muttered.

“Oh, I think you’ll find it to be very urgent, actually,” you whispered, shooting him a cheeky wink. With a long, drawn-out sigh, Steve turned to the reporter.

“My apologies, ma’am. Duty calls.”

You saw Bucky clap a hand over his mouth and nose to cover the snort that burst from his nares. Trying hard not to openly roll your eyes in front of the reporter, you nodded in the direction of the grocery store and began marching purposefully toward your destination, with Steve following in your wake.

“You two are infuriating,” Steve grumbled once you were out of earshot from the reporter.

“Excuse me - I just want to go get my ice cream and head back home to eat it,” you countered. “You’re the one who decided to schmooze with the first person who asked you about your superpowers.”

“I’m just trying to maintain good public relations. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Ugh, no. I hate talking about myself.”

The three of you bickered amicably the entire way to the store. It hadn’t ended by the time you’d made it back to the tower kitchen and dropped your grocery bags on the counter.

“I’m just saying - it wouldn’t kill you to wear a hat or something to hide your face from reporters when we’re just trying to go to the store,” you griped, shrugging your sweatshirt off your shoulders and hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen stools.

“It wouldn’t kill you to try to be friendly to strangers every once in a while,” Steve retorted.

“Excuse me - I am a very friendly person! I’m just selective about it.”

“Friendly as an angry porcupine, sure.”

You gasped indignantly. “Are you saying I’m sharp with people??”

“You’re just a little… prickly.”

“Ooh, now that’s an insult,” Bucky hummed sarcastically.

“You’re just as bad, you know. Forget porcupines - you’re like a venomous sea urchin or something,” Steve shot back at his friend. You snorted.

“Steve… you’ve really got to work on your teasing skills,” you chuckled. “A ‘sea urchin?’ Really?”

“I could just take your ice cream”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

Steve held your gaze for a moment, eyes darting briefly to the bag on the counter between you with the ice cream inside. You lunged for the bag handle, but Steve predicted your move, snatching it out of your reach before you could get a hand on it.

“Damnit, Steve!! Give it back!” you whined, rounding the counter to swipe for the grocery bag. He turned his back to you, maintaining a barrier between you and the prize. “Bucky! Help me out here!”

“Nah, this is pretty funny to watch,” Bucky chuckled, snickering as you swatted at Steve’s arm.

“Yeah but your ice cream is in there too!”

Bucky sighed. “You make a fair point. Steve, buddy, give it back.”

Steve snorted. “You’ve been just as much a pain in my rear today! Why would I give it back to you either?”

You gasped dramatically, catching Bucky’s eye. “Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?”

“‘Course not!”

Without warning, Bucky lunged at his super soldier friend, tackling him to the floor. The bag of ice cream slipped from Steve’s grasp in his surprise, which you quickly snatched up before he could regain the wherewithal to take it back. With a triumphant shout, you tore the cover off your pint of ice cream and dug a spoon out of the drawer, swiping a scoop off the top layer and shoving it in your mouth with a contented sigh.

“Mm… finawwy,” you mumbled with your mouth full. Swallowing, you pointed your spoon accusatorially at Steve where he was currently trying to shove Bucky off himself. “You know, you’ve been a pain in my rear all day. You deserved this - it’s nice to see someone teaching you a lesson.”

“You two are pains in my rear every day!” Steve huffed as he grasped at Bucky’s shoulders and pushed.

“You did not just say that!” you gasped dramatically.

“Yeah, how dare you!” Bucky added, pinching at Steve’s side for emphasis.

“Bahah- Bucky, don’t start this,” Steve warned as he grasped his friend’s wrists to still his hands.

“Ooh! Wait!” You set your ice cream and spoon down on the counter beside you. “I want a go! Bucky, hold him there for a minute.”

“Whahat??” Steve laughed in surprise, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Sure!” Bucky offered, ignoring his friend’s protests as he maneuvered his wrists from Steve’s grasp and swiftly pinned his arms to the floor a few inches from his sides. “Quick, before he gets free!”

"On it!" You crouched down beside the super soldiers as Steve tugged against Bucky's grip. Without waiting to listen to Steve's protests any further, you began to scribble your fingertips into his exposed sides and ribs rapidly. You heard a thump behind you as Steve kicked his heel against the floor in protest, now pulling more frantically to escape his best friend's hold.

"HA-HEHEY! Cut it ohout!!"

"Nah. I deserve a little reward for tolerating you all day," you snickered, prodding at his belly. "Hey, Buck - where should I get him next?"

"Ohh, definitely under his arms," he suggested with a smirk. You pinched your way up his ribcage before slotting your hands into the narrow space between his biceps and his upper ribs. Bucky adjusted his grip to pry his friend's arms away from his sides as he attempted to clamp them down to limit the space under his arms.

"BUCKY!! Let me go-HO-HO this I-HI-INSTANT!" Steve demanded.

"No can do, buddy. I'm enjoying watching you get taken down a peg."

"DAHAMNIT BAHARNES!!"

"Oof, language Steve!" you teased, digging your fingers into the soft spot under his arms. "Where else is he ticklish?"

"The spot on his stomach right under his ribs - that'll really get him good." Steve nearly managed to slip his wrist from Bucky's grasp, but he quickly shifted his grip once again. "Better do it quick - I can't hold him much longer."

"Say no more." You pulled your hands free from under Steve's arms and danced your fingertips across the muscle-clad skin of his abdomen just under his ribcage as Bucky suggested. He threw his head back with a heavy stream of laughter at your touch, arching his back against the floor in desperation. It was only another moment before he finally succeeded in escaping Bucky's grasp.

Steve sat up swiftly, a playful but menacing gleam in his eye as his gaze immediately landed on you.

"Oh-ho, shit!" You scrambled to get to your feet to make your escape, groaning defeatedly when you felt a strong set of arms wrap around your waist and yank you backward.

“You really think I’d let you get away with that?” Steve asked rhetorically as he tightened his arms around your midsection to hold you in place.

“W-wait, Steve, we can- ahaha nohoho!” Your protests were cut short as Steve’s fingers kneaded into your sides. “Bucky! Hehehelp!!”

“Nuh-uh. You’re on your own, my friend.” The infuriatingly unhelpful super soldier waltzed over to the counter to retrieve his ice cream, planting himself atop the countertop and digging in while observing the two of you wrestling on the floor below.

“USELEHESS!!” you cried, attempting futilely to pry Steve’s hands off your sides.

“Nice try. You should know better than to mess with me by now,” Steve teased. He loosened his grip slightly to scratch at your belly. A rumbling laugh erupted in his chest when you screeched in protest and doubled over, suddenly much more frantic. “Oh, what’s this?”

“DAHAMNIT STE-HEE-HEVE!” Your grip on his hands was far too weak to even budge them now - not that you’d had any hope of succeeding before your muscles had weakened from his tickling. You leaned more heavily into him as you succumbed to laughter. He responded by lowering you down to lay on the floor beside him, freeing both hands to dart randomly around your sides and stomach. Weakly, you tapped your palm on the floor beside you in surrender. Steve threw in a few more exceedingly ticklish light scratches along your belly before relenting in his revenge.

“That’ll teach you,” he teased with a grin, offering you a hand to help you off the ground. You grasped your abdominal muscles that were now aching from laughter.

“I-hi… I’ll probably still mess with you,” you admitted breathlessly. Steve made a noise of protest in his throat and reached over to pinch your side, but you swatted his hand away. “Noho more! You’ll kill me!”

“So dramatic.” He rolled his eyes. “Here - here’s your ice cream. Hope it melted while you were tormenting me.”

“Harsh!” You snatched it from his hand and stuck out your tongue, then turned to look at Bucky. "And you - you were zero help, thank you."

"Hey! I held him down for you! I was very helpful, in my personal opinion."

The three of you went right back to your friendly bickering session, as though nothing had happened. Any outside might wonder how you could all be friends, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[sjyuns]

🗒️ 、 BUZZFEED QUIZ PARTY

boyfriend riki x fem reader 513 words warnings - genre fluff mikaela’s note i have insane amounts of trust in buzzfeed quiz results it’s scary

You pull the screen of your phone towards your chest, eyes darting to your left, trying to catch a glance at your boyfriend, riki’s choices.

“I know you’re staring,” he points out, immediately turning his screen the opposite direction, and you groan.

“But you always stare at my phone before you choose your answers,” you pout before letting out a small shriek when riki tackles you down — your back splayed on your bed and him over you.

And you think your boyfriend looks extremely charming in the early hours of the day with kissable rosy lips, matching necklace hanging down his neck, and tousled bed hair. He awakened all your fairy tale thoughts without even having to do anything prince like.

“No I don’t,” he grins, looking down at you, “I’m just making sure we get the same results.”

“That’s not how BuzzFeed quizzes go, riki,” you remark, purposely avoiding the kisses he tries to pepper you with — as if he knew exactly how to distract you from the fact that he was cheating his way through the quizzes. “Plus, I thought you didn’t care about these quizzes.”

“I don’t babe,” he argues, yet the sparkle in his eyes when he looks back at his screen exposes him. “I do not care what kind of hot cheetos flavour I am from the seven course meal I choose. ”

You giggle at his detailed argument, as riki claims he only does these quizzes because of you, yet you have never once done such a quiz before. “riki, we’ve never done a hot cheetos quiz before.”

The revelation turns your boyfriend’s cheeks a shade of ruby red as he runs his hands through his hair, eyes darting everywhere but your face, that has an idiotic smile plastered on it.

“We have,” he tries to persuade but the both of you know that it never happened. And riki buries his face in the crook of your neck in embarrassment. “I started doing more quizzes cause I know you like them. And maybe I’ve gotten a little addicted,” he mumbles.

Your heart swells at his words, and you think that you could look at riki for just a single minute and find a thousand things you love about him.

“Love you too, boyfriend,” you whisper, and riki moves in to give you a kiss. It’s short and sweet, and it makes you feel like you’re going 1000 miles an hour.

Breaking the kiss, riki spends the next few seconds gazing at you in pure adoration. And he thinks he’s going to dream of you tonight, again, like he always does.

He moves back down, resting his head on the crook of your neck once again. The warm and familiar feeling encompasses you for yet another night.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs, deep voice filling the quiet calmness, “we should find out what our favourite dipping sauces say about us. I bookmarked it.”

“Alright,” you giggle, and riki presses light kisses against the base of your neck as the both of you slowly fall asleep in the arms of each other.

© SJYUNS

[luimagines]

Soulmates from the Start Part 6

Another commission!

It's extra long this time. :D And guess who couldn't finish the story in one go like I thought I would?

Masterlist

First Chapter/ Previous Chapter/ Next Chapter

Content under the cut!

Twilight was too busy being stuck in his own head to fully take into account what was happening around him.

You had mentioned bokoblins.

Bokoblins.

You had never mentioned them before. At least not in the way that told him they were near you. You had once told him, years ago when you both were fantasizing about meeting each other, that you were far away from Hyrule. You said that you didn’t have bokoblins where you were from.

You said ‘Bokoblins suck. I didn’t think they were as big as they actually were. Did you know they smell? I feel like I’m going to pass out.’

Twilight wasn’t sure he was processing that right. It would have to have been the first time you had seen a bokoblin in person for you to say that. Bokoblins were only in Hyrule.

YOU WERE IN HYRULE.

The knowledge of being so close to you had frozen him in place. Twilight could only vaguely recognize that The Champion, with all his loyalty, was sitting next to him. He noted that the stances were eerily similar to what has happened many times before.

However this time the roles were versed.

Wild had sat him down against a tree while he kept his guard up. Twilight would be thankful later, when he was done trying to make everything make sense in his own head. The Rancher knew he was in no position to even remotely defend himself at this moment.

What else had you said? What else could he decipher if he tried hard enough?

No idea. I heard a horn and then an arrow shot by my foot. I just took off running.

Twilight wants to bite off his own tongue. Everything stopped once he heard you were in danger again. He was too focused on trying to not panic and make it worse for you. He was such a useless soulmate. Everything in his body was telling him to find you, to protect you, to hold you close and tend to every cut and cruise that would have been inflicted on you should he have been even a hair too late.

He heard a horn too but it was Hyrule, Warrior and Time that had gone to investigate the nearby monsters. It would be foolish to think that it was in any way related. 

Twilight shook his head, feeling things calm down in his head to think clearly again. It was incredible luck for you to be in Hyrule as it was. Anything more would be asking for too much. But he could work with this. He was a hunter to some degree. He was a wolf for a reason whether he liked it or not.

He was going to find you.

He was going to meet you and hug you and follow through every promise he had ever made to you since he fell in love with you.

There are a lot of them. He has to make up for lost time.

***

You all but screamed.

How is this possible? How are you here? How is he here? Wait-! You DO recognize him! You’ve seen him before!

Fully aware that you’ve been staring at the poor boy as if he had grown a second head, you give him your hand to shake. It was slow and robotic. Your limbs didn’t want to cooperate just yet.

The boy laughs under his breath as you shake hands. “I don’t bite.”

“...Right…” You force a smile on your face. It’s awkward and tight. You remember him now, even though you’re not entirely sure from what game he belongs to. His clothes and appearance are too unassuming. There’s nothing to tell him apart from all the other Links you’ve seen in your life. However, he travels with Link. Your Link. Your Link should be somewhere nearby.

Your muscles tense with the idea of getting to see him after so many years of pining. You introduce yourself to the person in front of you first and dust yourself off. Everything hurts and you’re tired. But instead your brian is now going a thousand miles a minute.

Link is here. Link is close. You’re in Hyrule. You’re in Hyrule.

The Link who is not your Link tilts his head as you speak. “That’s an unusual name. You’re not from around here, are you?”

You shake your head with a weak grin. “What gave it away? My ears?”

You tease by exposing the ears that would have no doubt made you stick out like a sore thumb in this type of world. As it stands, you figure you might as well get it out of the way as it is. You’re not entirely sure how it’ll blow over but the only person who’s even remotely connected to people with round ears is your Link. You’re hoping beyond hope that this little thing will lead him closer to you, if only so they don’t send you away immediately now that you’re saved.

“Hyrule? Find anything interesting? Where’s the person that screamed?” Another voice calls out. It’s deeper. Far more deeper than you would have anticipated, and yet, you know it too. Although far more intimately that you would have realized at first.

Within moments, a man steps into the little space you’ve found yourself in and looks you up and down. A vague sting reminds you of your current injuries but you’re struck dumb at the look of him. So familiar, yet so different. He’s younger. He’s alive.

“Hero’s Shade…” You whisper under your breath. Do you make eye contact? Is that rude? Would that be a threat? Oh my god- he’s the Hero of Time! Isn’t he related to your Link? Wouldn’t he be related to you too? Maybe? By marriage? God- you hoped so. At least in your future. It would mean that Link would have forgiven you for pushing him away and for what you still have to confess now that you’re here in person. It would be awful to do so in front of all these other people but they deserve to know.

Guilt sinks deep into your gut and you feel your face get warm at the very thought of it.

What would they think of you when you tell them?

“Do you require immediate medical assistance?” He asks you instead, unaware of the turmoil going on in your head.

You shake your head and pull your arms close to your body. He nods once and gestures for you to follow. “Come. We’ll tend to you first before we move on.”

“O-oh…” They’re taking you with them anyway? At least for now it looks like. Your feet feel like lead but you follow them.

“All clear!” A third voice calls out when you step back onto the path. He looks straight out of a model magazine if you ignore his clothing. But even with his clothing, there’s a sort of cutting edge to him that would have certainly held your attention if you didn’t instantly start comparing him to your Link. 

It felt really good to say that. Your Link. You doubted you would ever get tired of saying it like that.

However, your eyes instantly narrowed in on the scarf that he had slung around his shoulders. You don’t remember it being that big- but it takes every fiber of your being so turn your eyes away from him. Knowing him and all that he’s been through- was probably the worst one you’ve investigated. He was the one you hoped to meet the least. Should he learn, no, when he learns about the things you’ve done, he would most likely take it the hardest.

Unfortunately, you can see the moment he pinpoints your unease and tucks it into the back of his mind. You flinch. The others see that too.

“You know…” He says slowly, taking his time to walk over to you. “There aren’t a lot of people with ears like yours.”

“I’ve gathered that.” You say softly. You want to own up to what you’ve done and what you know. You want to be the adult you are and take accountability… but not yet. You have to see him first. You have to see that your soulmate is safe and real in the flesh.

The Hero of Warriors bites his lip awkwardly. You’re not sure what he’s thinking but you have the slight suspicion that none of you are on the same page. He scratches the back of his head. “I haven’t met a lot of people like you but we know a guy who grew up with cropped ears. Come form a group of them. They live in Ordon Village. Heard of it?”

You can’t help it. You perk up and your heart starts beating faster. There’s no denying your recognition, or the way your face lights up. “Yes! I do!”

This could be your ticket straight to your soulmate! And you didn’t even have to say anything yet!

“He might be a bit out of it though.” This ‘Hyrule’ Link mentions quietly. “Is this really a good idea after everything he’s going through right now?”

You bite your tongue. If this ‘he’ is who you think it is, then you have to be patient. You’ve waited years to meet him. You can wait a little bit longer.

“You know him?” The Hero of Warriors looks back to you instead of answering his friend. “He knows about everybody from his village. Name’s Link.”

You have to force yourself to nod normally and calmly. “I… should.” This is a make or break moment. Now or never. You have to be brave and face the consequences no matter what happens. “...I’d know for sure once I see his face though.”

“Very well.” The Hero of Time, albeit older and more scarred. You’re not sure why he has the Fierce Deity marking on only half of his face or why he has a scar over his eye already. “Maybe a familiar face would do him some good for a time. He needs someone other than us to talk to.”

You don’t comment, too focused on appearing normal as they begin to lead you back to where they were as a group. You faintly notice that ‘Hyrule’ (you have to figure out where he’s from or quickly before you accidentally spill any secrets he may be trying to keep) has glowing hands as you walk. Your injuries and the pain begin to fade.

So this one does magic? Which Link can heal?

You try to keep the conversation light and away from true thoughts and feelings as you nervously follow them through the forest. You didn’t think you would be so shaken by all of this. You didn’t think you would find yourself this anxiety ridden. Oh you hope that he’s here, that he will forgive you! You have to apologize for everything you never said.

***

Twilight finally managed to get a grip on himself and on reality after what felt like an eternity later.

“Hey. You ok?” Wild reaches over and pats him on the back, trying to be as soothing as possible. “Are they ok?”

“Y-yeah… I think so.” Twilight takes in a turbulent breath. “They feel… calmer. I’ve never been able to simply feel them before. They must have stopped shutting me out so much…”

“That’s great, Rancher!” Wild cries, punching him on the shoulder. It’s such a brotherly move that Twilight can’t help but smile, albeit weakly. “You’ve just hit a rough patch. It’ll all be ok in the end. You’ll see.”

Twilight coughs and nods along. “It’s something… I just hate that they were so scared for so long… I couldn’t… I can’t do anything…” He shudders. “But I think… I think they’re here. I think they’re close.”

Wild freezes in a similar fashion that Twilight had earlier. “...Are you serious?”

Now that he’s said it out loud, it feels weightier. Hearty. Real. He nods fervently as the smile on his face turns into a grin. “I am. I think they’re here, Cub. …I need to find them.”

“Then we’ll help you.” The Champion replies without hesitation. “After all of this, this is the least we can do. We’ll find them first. Everything else can wait.”

Warmth and adoration bloom in Twilight’s chest as he brings the younger hero in for a bone crushing hug. There are no words that he can say that would properly convey what he’s feeling but he’s going to fight to keep it.

There’s rustling to the side of their makeshift camp. Everyone turns to the sound with expectant eyes. Time brushes some of the brambles out of the way as Warrior comes through, stretching his arms as he goes. “Hey Rancher. We got someone we thought you’d like to meet. You up for it?”

Twilight raises an eyebrow and stands. “Depends on the per-”

The words die on his tongue. You walk in, roughed up and dirty. But beautiful. So, so beautiful.

You seem nervous as you look around. Hyrule walks around you and everyone is watching for anything to explode. You see him and suck in a breath.

You stare at each other.

Twilight thinks his heart has stopped entirely. Surely this was too easy. He had only come to the conclusion that you were in his grasp. Now you’re just here? Like that? All but plopped onto his lap to love and adore and spend the rest of his life with?

The weight of the situation seems to finally settle on everyone’s shoulders. Wild shoves Twilight forward and he stumbles from the action. He can’t even be mad. He can’t bring himself to glare at his friend. It would mean he would have to take his eyes off of you. And he refuses to do that.

“...It’s you…” The words leave him breathlessly. You’re perfect. Better than anything he could have imagined. Those visions did not do you justice. “...It’s really you…”

Suddenly you tear up and the hazy dream of it all shatters. Twilight feels like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over his head. “What is it? What’s wro-”

“LINK!” You run and jump on him, holding onto him like he’s a life line. It’s enough to knock him over and knock the wind out of him, but he’s used to a little rough and tumble. He catches you with ease, spinning to disperse the remaining momentum and holds you just as tightly as you descend into heart wrenching sobs.

It breaks his heart.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Twilight says quietly. He starts crying too. 

Everyone else is aware that this should have been a private moment but they’re too invested in this to look away now.

You pull away and cradle his face. Your fingertips are gentle but shaking. You’re drinking him in just as much as he’s drinking you in. He feels you trace the markings on his face, lip wobbling with unspoken words as fat tears continue to roll down your cheeks.

He wipes them away gently.

You sniffle, caressing him in a similar manner, no doubt wiping away his own tears he’s been set on ignoring. “I could kiss you.”

That’s all the permission he needed.

***

Link kisses you.

He’s sweet and tender and although you’ve never kissed another person before it was everything you thought it would be. You’re not sure why. It was clumsy and awkward but you were too caught up with finally being in his arms to care about it at all. It was as it should be.

You let yourself have this. You kiss him back. You hold on tightly. You run your hands through his hair and try to map him out as fast as you can before you inevitably have to explain everything.

You know this because you cried out his name.

It was a spur of the moment thing. You hadn’t intended to. Since you had never shared each other’s name, he would no doubt start to ask questions once the high dies down. It would ruin everything for you, kill you off before you had a chance to fully live through this, but you wouldn’t lie to him. You’ve done enough damage without him knowing.

So you’ll take what he gives you while he’s still willing to give it. And you’ll hold the memory close for all your future years to come when you inevitably separate.

You finally allow yourself to pull back and gulp down the air that you’ve been missing.

You’re messy and tired and you’re sure that this is going to end poorly but for the hell of it, you kiss him one more time before relaxing slightly.

Link for his part, was absolutely stunning. He was warm and solid. The arms around you spoke of pure power. His strength was no laughing matter and you knew that. You were completely caged with his grasp but instead of feeling threatened or concerned, you were at home. Every cylinder in your brain was firing off that this was where you belonged.

You have to force yourself to pull your hands away.

You sniffle, looking away from his enchantingly blue eyes. Have they always been that shade? Were they always so bright? You could have sworn they were different. You fix up his fur pelt and the collar around his tunic, trying to bring yourself back into some working order.

You feel his hands gently, almost hesitantly card through your hair and around your ears and neck- toying with the idea of feeling your skin. It fires off goosebumps over the rest of your body.

You gulp and force yourself to speak. “...I didn’t think I would ever see you in person.” Your voice gets thick with emotion. You can feel your heart betray you further, nearly sending you into another sobbing fit before you can reign it back in. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

He nods and laughs wetly as he gives in to his compulsion to play with your hair between his fingertips. “Neither did I… I was so scared I lost you.”

You shudder at the raw and thick feeling that shoots through your bond. You can feel him. It’s warm and sturdy. You think you can feel the brush of fur along your heart- a calling to the beast he holds within. It shakes you. Was this how your bond was supposed to eb from the start if you weren’t separated from realities? You take in another deep breath, the tears fall anew regardless. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head and holds you impossibly tighter. “Never say that to me again. You have nothing to apologize for.”

You’re stunned. After everything? He was obviously frightened. And at the same time, you know that your time is up. You have to explain yourself.

“That’s not true, Link.” You sniffle, hoping that by ripping off the bandaid it would make it easier for you to heal later on. You can’t bring yourself to hide it any longer. “I have so much to apologize for.

His face crumbles as he rubs his thumb over your cheek. A deep, dark growl emanates from him as he bares his teeth. You’re not entirely sure he knew that he did that. “You’re hurt.”

It’s startling how otherly he looks in that moment- but you’re not afraid. Guilt is replaced by intrigue.

There’s so much you’d love to learn about him. But you can’t keep up this charade. It might as well be that everyone is still watching your very downfall before you could truly begin.

***

Twilight could feel himself growl before he could stop himself. You tensed up but didn’t pull away.

Good. He was worried that the effects of the magic in his life would have turned you away the second you saw it in person. He forces himself to relax. Putting aside the driving need to tear apart the very things that harmed and threatened you into shreds, he gently bonks his forehead to yours. “I forgive you.” He tells you, because it’s true. Whatever you want to apologize for- if it’s for scarring him, for blocking him out, for dropping out of your bond for those terrifying 7 hours- he forgives you. You’re here. He won’t lose you so easily now that he has you. “I don’t care about what’s happened. I’m glad I finally get to see you after so many years.”

He’s dreamed of this moment for as long as he knew you were meant to be his. He never would have imagined that it would have been under these circumstances but he can feel you. He feels you. There’s no more door in his way. There’s no more tampering the connection or even remotely trying to hold back what you’re both thinking and feeling.

You’re bright and fluttering and sharp. Like a rose if he had to pinpoint both your intricacy and your ability to put him in his place whenever he would need it. It’s almost delicate but intimidating. You could cut him in a heartbeat- but he could crush you without meaning to. The thought is exhilarating. He hadn’t imagined that the bond would have been this intimate or vulnerable.

You’re feeling guilty. So, so guilty. It’s enough to catch his heart in a vice grip and mangle it beyond its bruised exterior. He wants to wipe the sinister feeling from your heart and mind. Twilight wants to soothe all your worries and troubles with a single swipe of his hand.

He kisses your forehead. “I don’t believe you. This mess wasn’t your fault. You’re not a malicious person. I would know. We’ve been in each other’s head since we were old enough to toddle.”

The guilt gets worse and he’s questioning how he could feel everything about you but not your thoughts. Maybe he misunderstood the manner of your bond and this new strange and wild feeling.

You hang your head, hitting his chest gently as you sink into him. The feeling is good and drives itself deep into his bones. He sighs, closing his eyes to block out his unfortunate audience. You hug him and begin to shake slightly. “You don’t know what I’ve done. You don’t know what horrible thing I‘ve been keeping from you… But you have to promise me, let me explain it all first! I just-... I didn’t know at first how bad it would have been. I didn’t think it would have gone this far.”

Twilight feels his heart start pounding. He doesn’t understand. What kind of trouble did you find yourself in? “What are you talking about?” He pushes you away with his hands on your shoulders, looking deep into your eyes. “Are you in danger? Did it bring the shadow to you?”

“Shadow?” You echo weakly. You seem to get what he’s saying and shake your head. He sighs of relief but then you tense up again and wince. “Actually- maybe? I wouldn’t know. I don’t think it would work like that but I can’t be certain.”

He grits his jaw and squeezes your shoulder a little tighter- keeping a conscious decision to still be gentle with you. “Are you working against us?”

He has to ask you point blank. He has to know you got caught up with the enemy. He had thought that you were in danger before. You would have had to spill secrets to save your own life. He wouldn’t be happy with it- but he doesn’t think he would hold it against you in the long run. You had a lot of secrets to give, that he knew. You were a perfect target with zero training and zero experience. He shudders at the thought.

He wouldn’t blame you. You’re clearly beating yourself up over something and it’s tearing you apart on the inside. He can forgive you- even if it would complicate a few things.

To his surprise though- you jump, looking like you’re about to smack him for the very thought to your honor. “What? No! I would never! I would never put you in danger. I would rather pitch myself off a cliff before I ever come close to anyone wanting to hurt you.”

The spark of indignation overshadows the guilt for one bright moment and Twilight finds it himself to smile. “I know. But I had to ask.”

You huff and pout. It’s cute, Twilight thinks to himself, being careful to not send the thought your way. He chuckles and twirls your hair around his finger. It’s so soft. Softer than he would have ever imagined it to be. Would you let him brush it for you?

“I just…” You start again. Twilight sees you hype yourself up to say the words but you hang your head again, guilt creeping over the bond you share like shards of ice. “I’ve done a not good thing, Link. I… know things I shouldn’t. About you. About your friends.” You flinch violently as if you’ve finally remembered that everyone else is watching you. “I owe them an apology. I owe them all an apology. I’m worse than Cia.”

The familiar name sets a good portion of the group on edge. Twilight sees Warrior stand up straighter as a dark look comes over his eyes. Before Twilight can so much as warn the other man to back off from his soulmate, the Captain strides forward and speaks lowly. “How do you know that name?”

You start to shake again. When you speak, your voice is weak and quiet but Twilight hears it all the same. “Can we sit down?”

“Of course, darlin’. Come on.” Twilight guides you to one of the logs around the cooking fire and sits you down. He’s quick to put himself between you and Warrior just in case he tries to get any closer. 

Warrior gets the memo and doesn’t try to approach either of you any more but he crosses his arms. “There are only a very select few outside of my Hyrule that know that name.”

You flinch and bring your hands to your lap, fidgeting with your hand nervously. “I know, Link. But there are places outside of Hyrule that know that name and it’s quite common among those who know the Hero of Courage.”

Twilight feels like something is off with that sentence. Then something clicks. “I never told you my name. I was never able to, no matter how much I wanted to or how much I tried..”

You wipe your eyes and your nose with your sleeve. A long beat of silence passes. “I know… I learned it… As soon as I heard you say Midna… I managed to search for you…” You turn to him. There’s so much unspeakable emotion in your eyes. Your heart feels light but turnt in a way that’s painful for you both. “I found you, Link.”

Twilight sucks in a breath. “...what do you mean?”

“I found you.” You say again. “I found Ordon. I found Hyrule. I found the Twilight Realm. I found your story.”

He suddenly feels sick. It’s as if he’s been punched in the gut. “...What?”

You take a second to swallow your spit. You take a moment to reach for him but decide against it. Twilight reaches out for your hand anyway before you could fully take it back. He’s made his choice. He won’t let you push him away again. But he needs to process the implications of this.

There’s an even longer pause. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. He squeezes your hand back. You lick your lips and keep your head down, focusing on the way your hands are laced together. “I found your story. I found out everything. I knew how it was going to end before you even knew what it would lead up to. I …knew Midna would leave. I’m sorry, Link.”

Your hand squeezes his tighter and shakes. “I wanted to tell you. But I was scared. I was so scared. I found that no matter what I saw, what I knew, I couldn’t spoil it for you. I was worried it would hurt you in the long run. All I could do was point you in the correct direction so you wouldn’t get hurt worse.”

Twilight can feel the memories coming back to him in an avalanche of recognition. “All those puzzles…” He finds himself saying. “...I was always impressed that you could figure them out so quickly.”

“I was cheating.” You try to joke. It falls flat. “I found a walkthrough and it told me the solution. Of course I had to tell you.”

Twilight chuckles but it’s not quite where it should be. It’s not fully fake, not fully bitter, but it’s certainly toeing the line between the two of those. “...I can’t even be mad. You saved me so much time and effort.”

You whine and try to pull your hand away. He doesn’t let you. “I wish you would be. I wish you would be mad. Even if it was a little bit. I deserve it, Link. I know so much. I saw so much. You don’t even know my name yet I know your darkest secrets!”

Twilight takes a deep breath and tries to put away the sting of betrayal. It feels stupid to get upset over this. After all, you had truly helped him. Through the worst of it, you were still protecting him. “You’re my soulmate. Our bond shares thoughts and visions. You would have my secrets even if you didn’t find my story. It would be silly to be mad at you when you helped me with everything. You were my rock. My safe space. I trust you with my secrets.”

You shake your head again and choke on another sob. Twilight still doesn't understand what’s the problem. You finally look up to the rest of the group and whisper. 

“I know all your secrets too.”

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Where the Wild Things Are - Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Cigarette Burns

Plot: Wild men or monstrous infected creatures, the world is wild and ravaged by Cordecyps but some are raised in it and flourish becoming a wild thing.

Word Count: 3.8K

Pairing: Joel Miller x Platonic!Teen!Reader, Ellie Williams x Platonic!Reader

Warnings: canon-typical fighting/violence, injuries, harsh language, tw: near-death experience, trauma from abusive mother, DESCRIPTION OF BURNS

—————

When my time comes around. Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down

The cold is an enemy to fear more than infected or regular people in this kind of world. You could be in a remote area with no one for hundreds of miles, but the cold is always there. It doesn’t hide or wait for you to call it out, it attacks harshly and violently with no forgiveness. If you don’t have warm enough clothes, shelter, or fire you’re not surviving the night out with Mother Nature. It feels like thousands of needles stabbing into your skin repeatedly, or a numbing sensation that fills your body with panic when you can’t move your limbs. The cold could feel like you are melting it scorching your skin as it brings you to the sweet release of death. Cold isn’t a friend to any it went for everyone and everything, and only walked away knowing that you weren’t going to get back up.

Kansas winters were easier than Wyoming. Having a building to hide and be sheltered from, though run down with limited heat. You became resourceful, the puddle of blankets pushed right next to the heater waiting for the sputters and rattling as the heat flowed through it to get you through the night. The heater right beside the window allows you to gaze up into the sky connecting the stars to create paintings in the inky darkness. You are surprised how much was coming from the heater. It was never on for this long maybe a minute max but it was flowing steadily through.

“Honey?” The airiness of your mother’s voice threw you in a whirlwind not expecting the softness coming from the usual snarl and venom. “Come to bed with Mommy. Aren’t you so cold?” She stands at the doorway to her room holding her hand out as you push yourself up from the makeshift bed of blankets.

“But you don’t like me in your room.” You whisper out to her. It was one of the many things she ordered you to never touch. But her room was the biggest, she didn’t want you stealing anything as she puts it. She gives a soft smile still holding out her hand.

“Come on…daddy and I are waiting for you.” She says and you freeze. Your dad? But you never knew him, he left long before you were even born. A thing she constantly reminds and blames you for.

Ruining my fucking life….I should never have slept with that bastard…should have gotten rid of you the second I found out I was pregnant….bastard child along with a bastard father.

You always wondered what he’d be like, probably kind and strong, someone who would wipe your tears away when you were sad and make you smile from the jokes he would tell. To protect you from your bullies…to keep you safe from your mother. You wished he stayed so he’d take you away and it would be the two of you. But you never expressed those things. You tried asking about your father when you were very young but it only led to her screaming at you, how you were an ungrateful brat, after everything she’s done you wanted to think about being with your father. The guilt she held over your head like a toy twisting and molding it to have her be the perfect mother and you the horrible daughter.

Maybe you are a bad daughter…

Your father didn’t want you and she could have abandoned you too but didn’t. Was it love? You don’t think you knew what love is, whether platonically or romantically so those thoughts died. The idea of a father seemed like a fading thought, the idea seemed unrealistic like it was impossible to exist. Staring at the bedroom door that held your mother…and father waiting for you. To protect you…to love you.

“Come on kid!” A voice yells and your eyes snap open seeing Joel above you. Your body instantly shakes and you feel so cold and the striking pain in your shoulder and neck. It isn’t just the lack of body temperature that is painful each shiver and quake causes your body to ache and that produces more pain in your shoulder. Everything is fuzzy and dim your head feels like a dead weight as it almost lolls back if the man didn’t grab your neck to keep you stable. “Keep your eyes open. You’re alright,” He says before he yells over his shoulder, “Ellie where are those damn blankets!”

“I got them!” A young voice yells out and you see the girl holding a crap ton of blankets that she could barely see where she is walking. Another large shiver racks through your body an instinctive groan of pain as Joel looks over seeing your outerwear is off, your coat, socks, and boots are soaked in snow. The single layer of the long-sleeve shirt was still bleeding heavily and you weren’t even wearing gloves. Your fingers and parts of your face were bright red but he was glad to not see any signs of frostbite but mild symptoms of frostnip. The thick line across your throat from the cable made the flesh raw and irritated. He felt cemented in place trying to think of the next best step but he could only see his little girl in his arms when he had to carry you inside when you passed out from the pain and cold.

“Joel move, find the suture kit, and then get something warm for her drink. Tommy washcloths and gets some wood to start a fire. Ellie watch him.” Maria moves the older man aside before giving her son to the younger girl as she takes over the survival and motherly instincts coming out taking complete control of the situation. Your body practically vibrates from the cold and Maria moves closer you try to pull away but your shoulder makes you wince.

“You’re alright I need to take off your shirt so we can check your wounds. You have something under this?” Her voice is warm and comforting and she could see fear in your eyes surprising her used to sharp and cold ones. After gaining more sense of consciousness and understanding of the situation you were in you nod and she helps you sit up the blankets covering part of your stomach and your legs. Tommy returns with the washcloths and Joel with the suture kit before they return to their second task. Her hands move to your shirt and you stiffen and she waits noticing the uneven rhythm of your breathing before helping take off your shirt. Left in a slightly bloody tank top the shirt now clutched between your hands as you hear Maria’s sharp inhale. The noise drew the attention of the two adults just finishing their duties and the young girl.

Ellie had entered the kitchen with the baby to keep their view away from that finding the man standing there frozen unsure what to make, you couldn’t have coffee it could mess with your heart, and alcohol was out of the question. Joel had seen your aversion to the amber liquid. He hadn’t noticed the tightness in his chest and the ringing in his ears until Ellie grabbed his arm pulling him out of his state of panic.

“Joel..” The girl pulls him from his thoughts as he looks at his surrogate daughter, “You alright?” He wasn’t sure where this sudden state of panic came from. He had watched you ride out after one of the horses, himself and Tommy following after entering the storm urgency in them knowing you had no idea what was out there and you were defenseless. They had heard the large bang that sent fear through both brothers before the horses appeared without the rider. Joel headed off where they came from while Tommy wrangled the creatures. He had arrived just before it was too late seeing you being choked by a raider quickly shooting the one that was suffocating you seeing the damage you committed to the other raider. You had almost attacked him the fear and adrenaline probably overdosing your veins seeing the cold affecting you and the speckles of blood on your face.

It was that same fear in your eyes that he’d seen before. The years ago when Ellie had been kidnapped he was too late to rescue her from losing her innocence as she killed her captor, but the same fear that night all those years ago as his little girl clutched his arms as the life faded from her. He saw that same fear in your eyes and it sent him into a panic like he was reliving a horrid memory where he just kept failing. The nightmares he couldn’t remember when he woke up though he didn’t have them as often but when you came into his life they seemed to return. You are harsher and ruthless, everything he was during the beginning of the end of the world but you were only a kid. Tainted with the basics of childhood and thrust into the hate and death of the world. There are many things he wanted to know; how did you end up in Wyoming from Kansas, did you lose your parents during your travels, he wanted to know everything that there was about you. This draw and connection he didn’t think he’d feel. You are blunt, crude, aggressive, and an annoyance to him but here he stood panicking over you.

Why?

“I don’t think we have anything…to um..drink.” He says forcing himself to take a shaky inhale to calm his rapid heartbeat. Ellie seems to sense the panic and see the softness in the man’s eyes. Despite it being about a year in Jackson Joel was still a recluse, sure he helped around the community being a contractor in his past but he wasn’t one to make friends. He spoke in short phrases, grunts, and nods when people talked to him. It reminded her of someone she knew. He only really cracked a smile or told those dumb jokes around his brother or Ellie, and sometimes Maria. But you are here and she saw the softness as he held you in his arms bringing you inside or when he spoke to you before he was sent off into the kitchen. Ellie moves through the kitchen opening a cabinet reaching into the far back feeling the bag of treats she has hidden pulling out the bag of chocolatey goodness then to a fridge pulling out some milk. She puts the objects in Joel’s hands as he looks at them confused.

Ellie points at the chocolate and the milk, “Put that in there and heat it up, it’s good. It’s called-” “I know what hot chocolate is.” Joel grunts surprised to see the candy it looks handmade as he gets to work. He remembers a time when he made these during Christmas with small marshmallows and using candy canes to stir, even on rainy days watching a movie, or during sick days knowing they always warmed up Sarah making her feel better from whatever illness was affecting her. It was domestic and normal standing over the stove watching the milk heat up as he stirred the broken pieces of chocolate to melt once warm enough pouring it into a mug. He enters the room with the younger girl and his nephew and hears Maria’s sudden inhale and panic rises in him.

“What is it?” Tommy asks heading towards his wife stopping and his eyes widen taken over by shock. Joel was more panicked and Ellie was curious about what was going on as she and Joel took in what was shocking Maria and Tommy. They all noticed the scars that litter your arms, they expected something from someone who protected themselves out in this fucked up world. But they were crude the scars probably worse than the injury with the suture work you likely performed on yourself, but that wasn’t the scar and injury that had caught Maria’s attention and soon drew all theirs as Ellie tried understanding what a group of scars on your arms were.

“What is that?” Ellie questions the dot-shaped scars and Joel feels a sickness fill his stomach, “Are those burns?” She says that the adults in the room who did live in a normal world at one point recognize the scars that could only be caused by an object that was used by frequently stressed-filled parents with sticks of nicotine.

“Ellie take Liam upstairs. Now.” Joel’s voice is harsh and the teen tries to protest but with the look Joel gives her she doesn’t dare to defy taking the young baby upstairs the door to her room closing. Tommy stands up holding a fist to his mouth trying to hold in his rage.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Tommy spits the anger thick in his voice “Tommy.” Joel gives a warning tone to his younger brother.

“It’s fucking cigarette burns Joel. Christ,” Tommy wipes his hands down his face, “Those have to be years old.” You frown at Tommy's pacing vibrating with frustration and rage. The younger Miller seems to have noticed your look bending down to your level, “I’m not mad at you kid it’s just…you didn’t deserve this whoever did this to you.” You look away from the male using part of the shirt to cover your arms the small burns covered your forearms but the damage was already done they had seen it. Maria starts grabbing the needle and thread but you try stopping her.

“I can do it,” You look ashamed seeing their pity in their faces, “I don’t need your help.” Maria shakes her head.

“Just let me do this for you or we’re getting the doctor.” She places the final offer but you’re trying to pull your shirt back on biting your lip to stop the groan of pain and the once-clotted blood begins free-flowing. Joel curses grabbing one of the washcloths and presses it to your shoulder.

“Stop it! I don’t need your help!” You yell trying to pull away but it only creates more pain for you. “Stop it kid. You can’t see the full extension of it and your previous work isn’t a good show of trust,” Joel says and you glare up at him.

“Please kid, you’ve been bleeding for a while.” Tommy pleads and the rational side that wishes to live wins out but the more pissed off side doesn’t go down easy.

“I don’t want you here.” You say and Tommy sighs but if that was what got you to comply he gets up heading towards the stairs. You look over at Joel who hasn’t moved, “You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.” You hiss and for a second you feel guilty seeing his concern reveal slight hurt before it’s quickly covered by the mean expression constantly on his face. Joel nods stiffly moving out of the living room past his brother the door to his room slamming shut while Tommy makes his way to Ellie’s room to see his son.

The living room is quiet except for the occasional grunt of pain from you when the needle pierces through your skin and a murmur of apologies from Maria. Holding one of the washcloths to wipe away stray blood that spills Maria sits behind you as you sit sideways on the couch. Your gaze is drawn to the falling snow from the window in the living room counting the flakes that made contact with the glass.

“You know you should talk about it.” Maria speaks up and she watches your shoulders stiffen at her words before she continues, “You had us worried when Tommy and Joel watched you rush after that horse.” It’s quiet and she isn’t even sure if you heard what she said.

“We only want what’s best for you and seeing these kinds of injuries on your body. I worry Tommy worries, Ellie worries, even Joel. Especially Joel.” She says and a mixture of a scoff and laugh comes from you.

“What do you know what’s best for me…you’ve kept me here for your safety.” You say, “If you wanted to you could have killed me already so no one would find this place.” It was true if this had been any situation and you had stumbled upon them you would have been six feet under by now, but they met you, they came to the cabin, they decided to bring you back and help you. You could have bled out in that cabin if they had left when you told them to.

“And we didn’t because we are trying to bring back a sense of normalcy here. If we just killed people left and right we would be no better than those raiders after you,” Maria says and you hiss slightly from the needle entering your flesh. “In case you hadn’t noticed everyone in this building cares about you. And no matter how much you curse or say you don’t need our help. Deep down there’s a part of you that wants to let us in to ask for help.”

Maria lets silence fill the two of you as she continues her sewing and you don’t seem to even flinch at the pain. “It’s my fault anyway.” You say and Maria glances over your shoulder seeing you grip the bloody washcloth between your hands.

“I got myself in that mess and I found out what happened….I fucked around and I found out.” Your voice was thick tracing each burn on your arms with your eyes each ranging from light scar tissue from how long it's been others just as old darken from how long the butt of the stick pressed into your flesh. The young screams still echo in your ears as your arm was held to the table when it first happened just to get hit for crying. You learned quickly to not cry when she gave you that punishment.

“And who said it was your fault cause those don’t look like just a one-time occurrence.” Maria presses wanting to hear a name or someone. She prays whoever did this was long dead or suffering a horrible life. You felt a tightness in your throat at the question. You can still smell the nicotine and liquor on her breath the harsh grip of her nails breaking the skin with her warnings.

“Tell anyone and you’re going to wish you were never born.”

She isn’t here she couldn’t do anything. As much as you knew she was long gone Kansas City was running wild with infected from what Ellie described in her journeys.

“My..my mom.” It was so quiet you are certain she didn’t hear you but she did. She pauses the needle held in her hand as she looks at the profile of you. “It wasn’t her fault. She acts out when she’s mad. We were low on ration cards and I had gotten in trouble with Fedra.” It was a ramble of excuses that Maria knew did excuse burning your child. Maria’s silence makes you stop.

“Just…don’t tell them. I can feel your pity eating away.” You say and the older woman frowns she does feel bad for you. No child should have ever been treated like that and she was certain some of these other injuries may have been the cause of your mother.

“And your father,” She finally speaks up as she ties off the last stitch moving to clean the rest of the blood with the cloth, “He didn’t try to stop her?”

“A man that I’ve never met can’t really help ya know.” You say dryly. You wish he was there. Maybe he would have stopped it all, taken you away, and been the dad you’ve only seen in stories and dreams. But he wasn’t. Did that make him worse than her, he left a woman pregnant in a world that was ending around you all. Wrapping your shoulder in the bandage and briefly covering your neck she pulls back beginning to collect the items for the suture kit and bloody washcloths.

“Thank you.” You say and Maria looks back seeing you still not facing her and a small grin grows on her face. It was progress, slow progress but progress. More than a one-sided conversation though not a lighthearted one and a ‘thank you’ not some nod or even forced. Genuine.

“Just be careful with your shoulder.” She says before she heads upstairs to collect her husband and son from the event-filled night. When both Miller brothers, Maria and Ellie return downstairs to head out but also check in on you just catching a glimpse of you retreating to your room. The living room was back in order the suture kit was all packed up the bloody washcloths and your shirt was thrown away. Maria reassured the three of them you were alright and Ellie was a bit upset wanting to see you but retreated back to her room to sleep. Joel looks over at the mug still full resting on the table his gesture of help is forgotten and it makes his chest ache slightly.

“She’s gonna be alright?” Tommy says while fixing his grip on his sleeping son, the three adults had seen the scars and burns, and how you acted to them and towards people explained a lot.

“It was a pretty deep cut and her neck was raw as hell but other than that she’s alright,” Maria explains but Joel could see she was hiding something. There was a look on her face something she knew but she didn’t tell him even Tommy.

“And the burns,” Tommy whispers not wanting to speak up on it around his son even though he was fast asleep and too young to remember. Joel watches Maria as she pauses before fixing her coat.

“She wouldn’t tell me how she got them.” Liar. He could spot the lie as clear as day. But why was she covering for you? Joel nods and with nothing more to say the small family of three left to return to their home as Joel moves to the living room. Your coat hung on the hooks and your shoes and socks were piled neatly in the corner despite him ripping them off you in a panic. It’s as if you were never injured and sewed back together on the couch. Your features for such a young girl held such tiredness and stress even as you bled out. No fear though. Not a moment where you were afraid of dying just wanting this moment of weakness to go. A weight in his gut from the circumstances of today, thousands of scenarios running through his head, what if he and Tommy were too late for the raiders? What if your injuries were too severe for them to help you?

Stop it, Joel.

He shakes his head looking at the couch and your words ring back at him,

“You too. I don’t fucking need you, Joel.”

Pulling back like he was burned he returns to his room pushing away the insecurities and questions. The still-filled mug remains on the table the only thing holding the memories of what occurred tonight.

[sirianasims]

Chapter 44.1

Girls on Millionaires

“Samara, this is hopeless.”

“It’s been five minutes, Julia, we’ve barely started!”

“But how am I supposed to find anything in here? They should have thrift shops online, I just want to grab what I need and get on with my life.”

Samara shakes her head. “You’re thinking about it all wrong, this is not shopping. Thrifting is more like a treasure hunt, you never know what you’re going to find.”

She moves between the chaotic piles with the practiced air of someone who’s done this a thousand times before. Her hands are constantly busy, picking up items, examining them, and occasionally letting out a small laugh or shaking her head as she puts them back.

I trail behind her, aimlessly running my hands over stacks of old sweaters and linens, feeling out of place. The whole rebrand is starting to stress me out. My money is dwindling faster than I expected, and I only have so long to get the channel up and running again before I’ll be forced to make that dreaded phone call and ask my parents for help. It would feel like admitting defeat.

My spare room looks empty and forlorn without my sewing machine and fabrics, and I was hoping to find something that would help me get the new aesthetic right without breaking the bank, even if I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for.

Instead, I feel like I’m drowning in a sea of other people’s memories, and none of them fit the person I’m trying to become.

I’m about to give up when Samara calls out, a triumphant grin spreading across her face.

“Julia, come check this out.”

She waves me over to a large, white mirror, tucked away in a corner by some broken chairs and unused exercise equipment.

I walk over to it and run my fingers along the curved frame. It’s smooth, no dents or scratches. There’s even a useful shelf on the bottom, and I can already picture it in my new recording setup, framing the scene just right.

“This is perfect, Samara! There’s no price tag on it, do you think they’ll sell it?” I gesture at the girl at the register. She hasn’t looked up from her phone since we got here.

“They’d sell the roof if it didn’t keep the rain out, let’s go make a deal.”

The Rooftop

The music pulses through my body, a steady beat that seems to resonate in my bones and push away any lingering traces of worry. The Rooftop is packed tonight, but I don’t mind the crowd. The energy is electric, the kind that makes you feel alive, feel like anything is possible.

I’m tipsy – more than tipsy, actually – and it feels good. Samara and I managed to get my new mirror home safely, and for the rest of tonight, all thoughts about the rebrand and the money situation are far away, drowned out by the bass and the chemical smell from the smoke machines.

I throw my hands up, twirling in place as the DJ transitions into a song with a heavier beat. The floor beneath my feet feels like it’s vibrating, and I can’t stop smiling, can’t stop moving. I’m probably grinning like an idiot but I don’t even care. For the first time in weeks, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, who I’m supposed to be.

Samara and Miranda are dancing next to me, and I close my eyes, letting the rhythm take over. All the tension I’ve carried melts away. I know I’ll have to face reality again tomorrow, finish setting up my recording equipment and sort out a new posting schedule, but tomorrow is a million miles away.

Miranda leans in close, trying to get my attention. “Let’s grab a table,” she says, and I feel like I can see the vibration of her words through the air more than I hear them. “I need a break.”

“Yeah, good idea, my feet are killing me.”

I slide onto the seat, relieved to get off the unforgiving steel floor, as Miranda puts a drink in front of me. The glass is cool in my hand, condensation dripping down my fingers as I take a sip. The strong taste of alcohol is barely masked by the fruits and sugar. Miranda always gets the good stuff, all the bartenders know she tips well.

I gently peel off my shoes and rest my bare feet on the cold, smooth metal bars of the stool.

“Miranda, seriously, how do you handle wearing heels every single day? I’m so sore.”

Miranda grins.

“You get used to it after a while, really. It’s all about practice and a little bit of masochism,” she says with a laugh. “And then there’s the stubbornness, I didn’t spend all that money on shoes just to keep them on a shelf – speaking of, since when can you afford Diego Lobos?”

I glance down at my shoes. “They were a gift from Paul, for New Year’s Eve. I just haven’t worn them since we broke up. He joked that they were mostly a gift for himself, actually. So he wouldn’t have to bend down as far to kiss me.”

And because he liked it when I wore them to bed. The memory stings a little, but it’s not as bad as it used to be, the wound of the heartbreak has finally scabbed over and the pain is less raw each time I think of him.

Samara giggles tipsily. “I mean, they look nicer than using a stepladder, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe that’s why he dumped me, I was bad for his back. I should find a shorter boyfriend next time.”

“Yeah? How tall is Marten?”

“That’s not – we’re not dating, Miranda!”

Miranda clicks her tongue. “Girl, I hate to break it to you, but he did take you on a date.”

“It wasn’t a date, we just hung out! We got home, played games, ordered takeout. He slept on the couch, and then he took the train back to campus. He didn’t try to flirt or hit on me in any way.”

“Sounds fake,” Samara says. “I still think he’s up to something.”

“Or maybe he’s just not into me, it’s not a crime. He can have friends and not want to date them, you know.”

Thankfully, they drop the subject and move on to something else. I don’t like admitting it, but Marten’s lack of interest bothers me. It’s not even that I want him, but I’m used to most guys wanting me, and my ego is frankly a little bruised. Marten is always so sweet and attentive, but that’s it.

I can’t help but find it strange that he spends so much time with me if he doesn’t like me like that. Am I really just so arrogant that I can’t imagine a guy who doesn’t want me? Or maybe I’m just obsessing over it because Paul didn’t want me either. At least not enough to give me more time. I push away the thought violently.

As I take another sip of my drink, my eyes wander towards the bar. The Rooftop’s head bartender, Shane, is quite pretty, all perfect hair and strong jawline – and not that tall. I catch myself staring a little too long, and then I remember that he asked Miranda about me. A flutter stirs in my stomach.

The truth is that I miss being wanted, being touched. I miss kissing and cuddling and holding hands, but most of all I miss sex, the sweaty, dirty, crazy kind that leaves you breathless on crumpled sheets at sunrise.

“Julia, are you even listening?”

“I think we lost her, Mir, she’s busy eye-fucking the bartender.”

“Good to know she’s healed enough to look at other men at last.”

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Sorry, I was just thinking, uh, isn’t that the bartender who asked about me?” I try to sound casual but Miranda isn’t fooled for a second.

She chuckles knowingly. “Oh, yeah, that’s him. Just a heads up, though, Shane is a total fuckboy, he doesn’t do relationships.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Who said anything about relationships?”

Miranda shrugs, her eyes still sparkling with amusement. “As long as you know what you’re getting into, babe. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you, you don’t need more heartbreak.”

“Come on, Julia, you can do so much better. Just wait, before you know it, some prince is going to come riding in on a white horse and sweep you away.”

“Samara, I’d be happy with a duke on a rusty bike at this point. A girl has needs, you know – and my vibrator doesn’t cuddle.”

We laugh it off, but I have to admit that I feel extremely tempted by the thought of seeing where this might go.

Images flash through my mind of maybe, possibly, staying a little after closing time and getting to know Shane the bartender better. Maybe he could help me remember that Paul isn’t the last man on earth, and that even if Marten doesn’t want me either, someone else will.

My pocket vibrates, tearing me away from my fantasy. I look at my phone, slightly flustered. As if summoned by my thoughts, it’s Marten, asking if we’re going to play tonight. I fire back a quick text about being out with the girls and he answers immediately.

“No worries! Have fun and make good choices, okay?”

Good choices? What is he, my dad?

Still, his words stick with me, making me feel a little guilty for some reason.

I glance back at Shane, who’s now mixing a drink with the kind of smooth confidence that makes it clear that he knows exactly how hot he is. If he’s as bad as his reputation, he probably wouldn’t mind being someone’s rebound, but would I regret it?

I followed Paul back to his hotel even though I barely knew him. Am I just the kind of girl who hooks up with any hot guy on a whim? Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but Marten has a talent for making me second-guess myself.

If I’m being brutally honest, as hot as it sounds, getting railed on a bar after closing would probably not count as a good choice in anyone’s book.

But still…

A girl can dream.

navigation / previous / next

[jasmines-library]

Today I Saw The Whole World {2}

Chapter 2 - Seeing Clearly.

Summary: After some convincing from your brothers, you begin to come to terms with your abilities. The hunt takes a turn when Sam’s visions leave you sidelined in Baby, where it is revealed that you can do much more with your powers than you thought.

Warnings: Blood, minor injury, hellhounds, demons, brief hostage/capture situation.

Word count: 2.9K

Notes: Oh my goodness guys thank you so much for the overwhelmingly positive response! I’m so glad you guys enjoyed the first part because I was uncertain about this when I wrote it. This next part was a little touch and go when I wrote it, but I hope you enjoy :)

PREVIOUS • SERIES MASTERLIST

~~~

PREVIOUSLY:

“Y/n…” Sam asked cautiously, “what exactly was I researching?”

“Ghosts? I don’t know.”

Sam was silent. It worried you, but it was when he turned his laptop around to face you that your complexion paled. Sam had been researching ghosts.

~~~

“Y/N, I think… I think you’re like me. Psychic.”

“No. No no no that was just a dream.”

“Kiddo, that was not a dream.” Sam told you.

“Have you done that before? Leave your body?” Dean asked rapidly.

“No. I-“ you stuttered as you tried to find the right words. Your mind was running at a thousand miles a minute- like the cogs were turning backwards. “Nothing like this has ever happened before.”

It wasn’t a total lie. You had never had an out of body experience before, but you had seen people that weren’t there to the naked eye. You had no clue what was happening, and it scared you.

“I’m not psychic.” You told them bluntly. Although some part of you knew that was also a lie. The thought scratched at your brain like a weed.

“Sweetheart, I think you are… I mean it would make sense. You and Sam-“

Shaking your head, you gathered your things in your arms. “No. They’re not visions. That was nothing like Sam’s visions- it was just some freakish coincidence. Nothing more.”

“Y/N-“ Sam called as you made your way to the door, turning your back towards your brothers.

“We have demons to gank.”

~~~

The car ride was silent, spare the AC/DC that Dean had softly playing from his cassette tapes. Your brothers had filled you in on the plan; capture the demons and interrogate them for information on John or yellow eyes, before the three of you drifted into an uncomfortable nothingness.

You rested your head against the cool glass of the window in the backseat watching the world blur into one image as your brother drove too fast down the road to the town, bodies sliding across the seats when he turned the corner a little too fast. You didn’t miss the glances that they shot you nervously. Your mind reeled as you spent too much time lingering on the events of the morning. As much as you wished that it wasn’t true, you knew that there was nothing you could do about it. It made your stomach twist and bile burn the back of your throat. You knew at some point you would have to accept it the way that Sam had. You couldn’t hide forever; your excuses would wear thin eventually.

The sombre atmosphere quickly changed when Sam let out a cry of pain and clutched his head, white knuckles tangling in his hair.

“Sammy?” You shot forward, reaching over the frayed leather of the front seat to comfort your brother. “Sam what’s wrong?”

The three of you rocked forwards and Dean slammed his foot on the break and pulled the shiny car to an abrupt stop into an overgrown lay-by. You placed a hand on Sam’s toned shoulder as he let out another strained grunt and curled in on himself. His eyes moved frantically beneath his lids.

When his episode finally subsided, he slumped across the seat as much as his lumbering frame would let him and took in deep breaths.

“Sam?” You asked gently.

“Y/N. You cannot go into that building.”

“What? What do you mean she can’t go into the building?” Dean demanded.

“I saw it. The demons… ” your twin took a shuddering breath, swiping the mousy brown hair that had fallen in front of his face away from his eyes. “If she goes in there then…”

Sam swallowed thickly.

“You had a vision?” Squinted Dean. “I thought they only happened when you were asleep.”

“I thought so too but…”

It suddenly occurred to you that this had happened at the same time that you had had your strange dream. “They’re progressing. Your powers.”

Sam nodded in agreement, latching onto your thought. Suddenly his voice became stern, and his face hardened. “Yours are too.”

You turned your head away from your brothers.

“Y/N?”

“Dean.”

He sighed. “We know something’s up. If it’s true and you and Sammy are both hopped up with mojo, and Sam’s visions have just changed then something was happening to you before last night.”

You remained silent, head down, eyes on the ground of the impala which was caked in mud from your boots.

“Kiddo, you need to tell us.” Sam cooed. “It’s okay.”

Your gaze found Sam’s dewy brown eyes. You had always found comfort in them. “I’ve been seeing things- people. People that are there one minute and gone the next.”

Your two brothers listened to you intently as you explained to them what you had been seeing. You picked at the skin around your thumb; a telltale sign that you were anxious or stressed. Dean gently took your hands in his to stop that habit that you had nursed since you were young enough that John would leave the three of you before he went out on a hunt. Sometimes you wished you could go back to then. Back to when the world was so much simpler. Sam nodded as you spoke, he always seemed to understand you. Your brothers always seemed to know how to help.

“Y/N. You’re seeing ghosts.”

The statement was almost surreal coming from your brother's mouth. The words would have hit you like a ton of bricks had you not been dealing with the supernatural since you were merely 12. They would have drowned you had you not already had a twinge about it in the back of your mind.

You nodded slowly. “You knew.” You told Sam. It wasn’t a question as such. It all made sense now; why he was researching ghosts instead of demons for the hunt. “That’s why you were researching.”

Your brother hummed. “You’re seeing into the vale. And I think last night…last night you travelled inside it.”

Dean chimed in, fiddling with the hand break and putting the impala into reverse so that he could navigate the small space and pull back onto the road. “So now I not only have one little brother who can see the future, I have a little sister who can see ghosts and leave her body. Great, all we need now is a Jedi.”

You let out a breathy chuckle which sank to the bottom of your stomach as nausea as the car sped out towards the hunt.

~~~

When the car came to a halt down the road, just outside of the family home, the sun was dipping behind the horizon, though the heat still came bearing down relentlessly onto the concrete. The three of you peeled yourself away from the car seats and Dean propped the trunk up with an old rifle you were sure belonged to John. You would have to make sure to return it to him. The three of you then made quick work of gathering the supplies you needed, rummaging between all of the nicknacks in the secret compartment of the car. Though your stash of weapons was far from slim you were limited on your supplies when it came to demons. Sure, you had hunted some before but demons were less common than ghosts and vampires and they had only started popping up during your search for your dad. Supplies of holy water were held within worn, silver flasks which were promptly slipped inside of your brother’s jackets. When you reached for your own, you were quickly stopped by a hand and a disapproving frown from Sam who loomed over you.

“You’re not going in there Y/N.”

“Sam-“ you started, only to be cut off by that look again. “Don’t give me the look.”

Sam continued with his onslaught until you managed to slink around him, slipping the flask into your pocket.

“Dean, would you please tell him that I’m going.”

The eldest Winchester patted you on the shoulder as he rummaged around in the back of Baby. “Sorry sweetheart. No can do.” He pulled out cans of spray paint, releasing a cloud of white paint from them to test that they worked before stuffing them in his bag and wiping the sweat from his brow. “If Sammy says no, then the answer is no.”

“But Dean-” you tried to argue, but you knew it was a lost cause.

“House rules, Y/N. We’re the oldest so we’re always right.” Sam threw over his shoulder.

“By like three minutes.” You rolled your eyes going to sit inside the Impala, but not before snagging a knife and slipping into your boot.

Before they set off, Sam came over to you. You wrapped him up tightly in your embrace, trying to settle the storm in your stomach. You hated it when the two of them went off without you.

“I’m sorry Y/N. It’s just what I saw…there’s more than one in there and just couldn’t live if something happened to you and I did nothing to stop it.”

“It’s okay, Sam.” You reassured him. “Just be safe.”

With that, you watched your brothers sneak round the back of the house, disappearing into the dusk.

~~~

Your brothers had been gone too long.

The sun had now set, leaving the street illuminated by the glow of the street lamps and the orange light from houses. You tried to watch the figures moving behind the curtains but you had no such luck making anything out. What unnerved you the most was not the emptiness of the place. It was the silence.

Then you saw it. A wispy shadow prowling towards the house. The more you concentrated, the more you made out the shape of its snarling jowls, its bared canines and its knifelike claws that protruded from its feet. The more you concentrated the more you realised that your brothers were utterly fucked.

Unsheathing the knife from your boot you pushed open the car door, trying not to slam it shut behind you. The hound let out a low growl as it turned and made a beeline for you. You raised the blade and swung it at the hellhound as it pounced. It lodged deep into the creature's flesh which oozed a deep crimson when you yanked the blade out of it and made for another swing. This time the hellhound moved swiftly out of the way and out of your eye-line, whimpering as it rolled onto its fresh wound. Spinning around quickly, you plunged the knife back into the dog. It howled and swiped at you, leaving a shallow cut across your arm. You hissed at the incision, but twisted the knife inside the creature until its howling died down into a pained whimper. It wasn’t dead, there was no way you could kill a hellhound with what you had. But it was close enough to it.

Wiping the blood from the knife on your flannel, you edged your way towards the building, into the main room of the house.

You brothers were both slumped on chairs in the centre of the room, their hands tied behind their backs with old rope that splintered and frayed around the edges. They each had an old oil rag stuffed into their mouth; likely to stop them performing an exorcism. If looks could kill, the demon that Dean was staring daggers into would have dropped dead in seconds. He had a small cut on his upper lip and his nose was bloody. There was blood running down the side of Sam’s temple. You winced at the sight. There was a second, taller male demon in the room too. He paced in front of your brothers. It wasn’t just the trimmed suit that his vessel was wearing that gave him an odd sense of authority. The way he held himself put him above everyone else in the room.

You snuck into the room as quietly as you could. The house was almost silent besides the lecturing of the demon in the suit. Peering around the corner you had seen that he had taken Sam’s chin into his hand, much to his and Dean’s protests.

“Oh yes. You’ll do quite nicely.” He told Sam, turning his face in his hands and inspecting every inch of his features. Sam’s stubble was rough against his fingers. “He’ll be very happy with your progress.”

Dean spat something at the man, but it was inaudible from where you were hiding, muffler from behind the rag. Whatever he said, the demon just laughed at him and released Sam’s face from his hands, it hung limply, resting on his chest.

Keeping a close eye on the scene before you, you began to mutter out the words to the exorcism which you had burned into your mind. “Exorcizamus te omnis immundus spiritus…”

“Dean, Dean, Dean. What are we going to do with you?” He tutted, turning his attention to the eldest Winchester. “See we had orders not to kill the twins, but they never said anything about the spare…” The demon glanced towards the doorway, his eyes morphing black, a twisted smirk winding its way onto his lips. “Speaking of twins.”

The second demon reached around the doorway and wrapped a bony hand around your arm. hHis long and dirty nails bit into your skin. You whimpered at the contact with your scratch as he yanked you into the room. Sam’s eyes widened and he fought harder to get to you, the ropes burning as they twisted against his skin.

“Can’t have you finishing that exorcism, can we?” The demon said.

“Get off of me!” You spat, trying to get away from the demon's iron grip, but to no avail. With his nails deep in your flesh, he tossed you down at your brother's feet. The thud as you hit your head on the ground ricocheted across the walls in the silent room.

Your brother’s cries cut through you as you groaned, trying to push yourself up, only to find an invisible force plastering you to the floor. You craned your neck to look up at your brothers. It was from your position on the floor that you could see that Sam had nearly worked his hands free of the old rope and that Dean had already worked the tight loops open and was merely holding the rope in place.

“Aw look at that. The whole family’s here.” The demon pried, tilting his head sideways and pouting. “Too bad it won’t be that way for much longer.”

It was then that you heard it. Your eyes widened at the sight, at the low guttural growl of the second hellhound, prowling towards Sam and Dean.

“Dean! Behind you!” He ripped himself from the chair, his bonds and gag landing in a heap on the floor before he landed a punch square to the smaller demon's jaw sending him reeling backwards and onto the floor. The latin was spilling from his mouth in seconds. Sam took this as a chance to pull the vial of holy water from the inside of his pocket and throw the contents over the other. It let out a shrill howl and clawed at his face, eyes wide and ghastly, teeth bared and face contorting in agony.

Scrambling to your feet, you raised your silver knife, anticipating the move of the hellhound. Both of your brothers scanned the room, both unseeing to the canine in front of them. They glanced at you cluelessly. You had to make them see. They needed to see. So you were going to try something new.

Focusing all of your attention on the hellhound, you watched every movement it made, took in every flex of its muscles and each rise and fall in its chest and it heaved, you felt the way the the floor shook with every exhale the canine took and the way the wisps that made up the being flickered like a flame. You felt the energy of the hellhound, raw and dark, lusting for blood and violence and you reached out. You reached out towards your brothers, sending your vision and your senses to them. The sensation tingled throughout your body; ran through your finger tips and sizzled through your veins, burned through your blood.

Sam’s breath hitched in his throat as his eyes latched onto the hellhound. Your eyes found his and you knew that it had worked. Sam clung onto his flask tighter, flicking the remaining droplets onto the dog. It hissed, but continued to stalk forwards. The sound its claws made as they scraped across the wooden floor was grading.

“Dean…” Sam wavered.

There was a thud as the two bodies hit the floor, devoid of the demons that once used them as puppets. Dean whipped around towards his two siblings, eyes becoming wide as the sun when he latched onto the hellhound and your face straining in concentration.

“How-”

“No time!” Sam yelled.

You threw your silver knife at the hound, it retreated a few steps before lowering its front paws, ready to pounce. Vision swimming, you tilted slightly to the side, your legs and arms losing feeling, shaking like a leaf on a tree on a windy day.

The hellhound let out one last howl before pouncing, leaping off of the floor and flying towards you.

“Y/N. NO!” Sam cried, racing towards you.

The last thing you saw before you felt your energy drip run dry was the hellhound flying back across the room.

NEXT • MASTERLIST

🏷️ Taglist:

@babyinatrenchcoat

@spookedghosty

@roguesthetic

[taylorssfilmsss]

LABYRINTH OF MY MIND

↳ PAIRING. Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ WARNINGS. None!

↳ SONG INSPO. Labyrinth by Taylor Swift

masterlist! | requesting rules!

a/n!

hii! it’s been a while but i’m back! i don’t know how much i’ll post/write over my 2 week break before i get busy again but hopefully i can at least write a few things im hoping. hope you enjoy! love ya 🫶🏽🫶🏽

(also i took out some lyrics to make it a bit shorter)

“it only hurts this much right now”

was what i was thinking the whole time

breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out

you sit on the edge of your bed.

you glance over at the alarm clock.

it read 3:04AM.

this normally wasn’t like you at all.

waking up in the middle of the night because of something but even then you couldn’t even figure out what woke you in the first place.

it felt like you couldn’t breathe you felt your eyes tear up a bit.

you wanted to call him but you couldn’t even think straight.

it felt like you were going crazy.

you searched your bed for your phone.

after finding it you go straight to his contact pressing the call button.

it rang 3 times before finally picking up.

‘hello?’ he said almost in a whispered tone.

‘matt?’ you asked in a quiet almost whisper voice to avoid your voice cracking.

there was a pause of silence for a second and then he spoke up.

‘whats wrong? are you okay?’ he asked.

you couldn’t manage to say another word before he spoke up again.

‘do you want me to come over?’ he spoke this time a little louder then before.

you muttered a ‘yes’ before you heard a jingling of keys on the other line.

you both said your goodbyes and hung up the phone.

15 minutes later you heard a key turn in your door signifying matt was there.

uh-oh, i’m fallin’ in love

oh, no, i’m fallin’ in love again

oh i’m fallin’ in love

i thought the plane was going down

how’d you turn it right around?

within a second matt was sitting next to you while you had your eyes closed with your head in your hands.

you still couldn’t think straight with thoughts running through your mind at a thousand miles per hour.

it only feels this raw right now

lost in the labyrinth of my mind

break up, break free, break through, break down

you would break your back to make me break a smile

he put his hand on your lower back to let you know he was there.

you quickly opened your eyes and looked up to see him sitting right next to you.

he smiled and mumbled a ‘hi’ very quietly but loud enough for only you to hear.

you placed your head on his shoulder grabbing his hand and interlocking it with his.

after a few minutes you both shifted to lay down.

within 30 minutes later you both were sleeping peacefully.

you know how much i hate

that everybody just expects me to bounce back

just like that

uh-oh, i’m fallin’ in love

oh, no, i’m fallin’ in love again

oh, i’m fallin’ in love

[stellastellaaa]

Move over NERDS its my turn on the writing🔥

DOAI SPOILERS :3

(Okay so in this context Alex is developing veldigun sickness AGH)

Alex slumps home, their paranoia has been..getting the better of him. All their thoughts have become a jumbled mess of sounds that don’t even vaguely resemble speech. Watching every single car that even happens to go in their general direction before speeding off. They knew Lankmann was onto him, they were sure of it. Its just, why he was waiting so long…?

The squeak of the door that they’ve opened at least a thousand times to get to their apartment room is only now starting to get on their nerves, the slow pain thats developing in his knees. It was like they could barely walk anywhere without feeling some kind of pain. They felt like shit, to say the absolute least. Crashing down on the cheap mattress, Alex’s mind doesn’t exactly know where to go now, what exactly would they think about? The fact the man they were unintentionally helping sacrifice people to some monster was going to kill them? How nice. They cough burying their face into the crook of their arm. “The weathers getting colder…it’s only a cough.” They thought to themselves. As if trying to convince themself of something. As if there was a hang of dread they couldn’t feel, Alex leaned against the wall, tired but not quite enough to sleep, unfortunately. They coughed again, and then again. And soon found they couldn’t stop. Each one more violent, more painful than the last. So hard they begin to tear up.

Alex shoves open the door to the bathroom and hangs over the sink. Staring into the mirror as the flickering light fights to illuminate their surroundings. Before coughing, choking. Harder than they ever had. Alex opened their eyes and stumbled back upon what they saw in the sink. Blood, Alex had coughed up blood.

“No..no no no no..”

They repeat to themself, pacing around the small room for a moment before pausing. Looking down at their arms, then into the mirror. They’ve lost so much weight, and their skin is becoming a sickly pale. They fall, just barely catching themself on the sink. The horrific realization they’ve come to leaves them in a state of animalistic panic. Lankmann wasn’t going to kill them, he was going to let them die. They cough more, the metallic smell of blood was hitting their nose was making them even more nauseous. They turn the sink on and splash the cold water on their face. As if that would do something, anything. But it doesn’t. Alex falls back against the wall, their breathing is labored and hard. Not helped by how clogged their throat felt. They thought they were just going to be killed but this is so much worse. Alex tilts their head back against their breathing wasn’t slowing down, it was so rapid. Only occasionally interrupted by the violent coughing. Their heartbeat was a clumsy banging drum that played in their ears. Their whole body was shaking, thoughts were running around their mind at a thousand miles a minute and almost nothing could break past the wall of their mind and escape through their mouth.

“I don’t want to die..”

Alex paused, almost covering their mouth as they heard themself say that. Their shakey breathing was slowing but didn’t stop. They lean back against the wall, the last thing they ever wanted was to show fear. Even completely alone, even in the security of their own falling apart room. They wanted to be brave about it the last thing they wanted was to admit on any other level other than subconsciously. That they’re afraid, terrified. They’re still young, they still have so much life ahead of them… Alex hunches over staring at the ground, they hold themselves and a feeling of defeat washes through their mind…

The sound of Alex’s breathing is the only one that hits their ears, the room is so quiet, but Alex’s thoughts are screaming, yet somehow, still so vague and hard to make out. They’re completely spaced, they stand up. Their legs shake violently, but they walk forward anyways. Staring into the mirror for a fleeting second before looking straight back down into the overrun sink that they’d forgotten to switch off. They do so and a silent sigh rolls out of their breath. Unsure of what to think, of what to do. All they know is to walk forward anyways.

[leiawritesstories]

Ahaha, I have another because I’m greedy 🙈 But this prompt for Rowaelin, please??:

I put you down as my emergency contact because I don’t know anyone else in the city, and we literally only met in passing, please forgive me but I am stuck at the ER and they won’t let me leave without you.

Thank you!

hehehehe okay so both you and @tomtenadia asked for this one and I really really hope this delivers 😈😁🥰

500 followers celebration prompt fills

Word count: 2.2k oops

Warnings: some angst and hurt BUT ONLY A LITTLE BIT I PROMISE and it's followed by so much comfort

Enjoy!!

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

Aelin blinked back into reality and found herself in a hospital bed, her body covered in a cotton gown, aches and dulled pains creeping back into her consciousness as her head cleared. She shifted and found her left arm in a sling, immobilized. She shook her head gently, trying to bring up the memories of just how the hell she'd ended up in the emergency room instead of back at her hotel.

"Good to see you awake," a woman's voice said from her right. Aelin turned her head to find a nurse, about her own age, clad in the same blue scrubs as the other staff. "You've been asleep for a solid few hours, probably thanks to the medication."

"Wh-what happened?" Aelin croaked.

The nurse pressed her lips together. "Do you remember a car accident?"

Oh.

Just like that, the memories flooded back. Aelin had been sitting in the back of a taxi, heading from a coffee shop where she'd been at a casual post-session meeting back to her hotel in downtown Doranelle. As the taxi had driven through an intersection, a driver had run the red light in the opposite direction and hit the rear side of the taxi. Her memories got a little fuzzy after that, mostly just snippets of shock, confusion, flashing lights and sirens, and a vague recollection of being loaded into an ambulance.

"You remember?" the nurse asked. Aelin nodded. "Good. That's a good sign that you likely don't have a concussion." She scratched a few notes onto her clipboard. "Now that you're awake, we can finish discharging you. You're stable, so we won't need you to stay here."

"So I can go home?" Aelin signed the papers the nurse handed her.

"No."

"What do you mean, I can't go home?" Still a little out of it from the medication they'd given her, Aelin blinked at the ER nurse. "You just told me I don't need to stay."

"Let me clarify, then," the nurse replied. "You've been cleared to go home, but you have not been cleared to go home alone. You'll need someone to take you--and no, a taxi or an Uber doesn't count." A hint of a smile curled the corner of her lips at Aelin's disgruntled frown. "It's for your safety, Miss Galathynius. We don't want to see our ER patients back here within a few hours because they tried to do something they shouldn't have done."

Aelin sighed. "All right. You can call my emergency contact." She leaned back into the hospital bed. "I'd ask you to call my parents, but they live over a thousand miles away, so that isn't possible."

"As long as you have an emergency contact on file, that will be fine." The nurse placed Aelin's normal clothes in a small pile on the chair next to the bed. "I'll be back in a few minutes to let you know who's coming for you."

"Thanks." Aelin managed a half smile before tilting her head back and groaning. Gods. Of all the days and times to wind up in the ER, it had to be now, during her work trip to Doranelle. At least their healthcare system was well-funded and well-run; the staff who she vaguely remembered tending to her when she came in were polite, professional, and expertly trained. Muffling a grunt, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, gripped the handrail, and stood up slowly, careful not to put too much weight on her legs at once. Shakily, she managed to stand up and reach for her clothes.

There, she got stuck. She couldn't get out of her hospital gown alone because the damn thing was tied in the back and her damn arm was in a sling to immobilize her injured shoulder.

She'd just screamed a string of foul curses into the pillow when there was a knock on the door and the nurse reappeared. "Good news, Miss Galathynius! A Mr. Rowan Whitethorn is on his way to pick you up."

Ah, shit. The thought of Rowan Whitethorn seeing her like this was almost enough to make her wish she'd been kept at the hospital.

"All right," was what she told the nurse. "I hope he's bringing food, because I am bloody hungry."

The nurse laughed. "I'm sure he'll be able to get you all the food you want once you're out of here." She handed Aelin a small paper bag. "There is a small quantity of pain medicine in here. I'd recommend taking it once or twice a day, depending on how severe your pain is, for the next four to seven days. You can take over-the-counter pain medications as well. After seven days, stop taking the prescription medication. If there's any left, you can bring it to any pharmacy here and they'll discard it."

Aelin nodded along. "Okay. Thank you." She flashed a soft smile at the nurse, who'd been nothing but kind to her.

"Of course." The nurse offered her a small smile in return and left the room.

Aelin considered whether or not it would be worth attempting to get into her normal clothes before Rowan got there and decided that it wasn't. If he had to walk her out of the hospital still wearing the godsdamned gown, then he would. Damn shoulder.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Rowan Whitethorn pushed open the door and burst into the hospital room. His crisply pressed suit was disheveled, his tie loose around his neck, his collar undone, and his eyes were wild, almost panicky, as he crossed the room in two long strides and cupped Aelin's face in his hands.

"What the hell?!" She pulled away from him, hissing at the sharp twinge of pain caused by the sudden movement.

He stepped back, hands up. "You what the hell? Give me a fucking heart attack, why don't you, Galathynius?"

She rolled her eyes. "You barely even know me, Whitethorn. Shut it with the heart attack nonsense."

"No." He folded his arms across his chest and scowled. "Why the hell am I your emergency contact?"

"Because I'm a thousand miles from home, I don't live here, and you're the only person at this fucking seminar that's bothered to learn my name." The small rant spilled out of Aelin before she could stop it. "I needed to have someone on file, and your stupid face is the first name I thought of. You're lucky I had your business card, or I'd be stuck here until I convinced the nurse that I could Uber back to my hotel without dying."

Rowan's cranky expression morphed into mild shock, then concern. "So you weren't going to explain why in all hell your arm is in a sling and there's bruises all over you?"

"They're not all over me," she huffed. "There's some minor bruising on my clavicles, arms, and left cheek. And anyone who asks why I'm wearing a sling deserves to be told to shut the fuck up."

"Fair enough," he admitted. "Fine. I'll drive you back to your hotel." He offered one hand.

She held up her good hand. "Not so fast, Mr. Business. I need to change into my own clothes." She frowned. "But with this bloody sling, I can't get the gown untied."

To her immense shock, a blush spread up his angled cheekbones. "Um...should I call the nurse?"

"This is an ER, Whitethorn, not the regular hospital ward," she deadpanned. "I've been discharged, so as far as they're concerned, I'm no longer their patient. You can help me."

His blush deepened. "I..." He cleared his throat, schooling his face back into its usual impassive mask. "Fine. Tell me what you need help with."

She turned, presenting her back. "Untie the gown, please."

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "she's trying to kill me" and carefully untied the gown, keeping his hands as far from her skin as possible. Which wasn't very far, since he was literally undressing her.

Aelin was still wearing her bra and underwear beneath the gown, and because she wanted to have a little fun, she let the gown drop to the floor instead of holding it up to herself. Rowan emitted a strangled cough and wheezed behind her. She smirked. "Is something wrong, Whitethorn?"

"Nothing," he grunted through clenched teeth. "Where are your clothes?"

"On the chair. Hand me my pants, please." He did, and she pulled on her slacks. "Blouse." The blouse was a little more trouble. Aelin got it halfway on and stopped, unable to wrangle her sling arm into the unbuttoned blouse. "Shit."

"Here." Unexpectedly, Rowan had picked up her sweater and draped it over her injured arm, careful to keep his touch light. He let her slip her good arm into the other sleeve, then buttoned the three big buttons on the front of the loose sweater. "Does that help?"

"Yes." She flashed him a small, hesitant grin. "Thanks."

He clutched his chest. "Polite words from Aelin Galathynius? What world is this?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be a jackass, Whitethorn, just let me grab my purse and we can get the hell out of here."

"Not so fast." He snatched her purse before she could reach it. "Are you supposed to be carrying this?"

"I still have one good arm," she sighed. "Give it to me." He raised one pale brow in disbelief. "Yes, Whitethorn, I can carry my purse. It's not too heavy for the limit they gave me."

Satisfied with that answer, he handed her her purse and held the door open as she walked out. "I'm parked kind of far away," he admitted as they left the ER building. "Couldn't find a closer spot."

"It's okay," she reassured him. "It's my arm that's injured, not my legs."

Her traitorous legs chose that very moment to wobble, betraying her strong façade.

"Mhmm," Rowan drawled, a smirk curving his lips.

She scowled. "Shut it."

He mumbled something indecipherable and, without warning, lifted her off her feet. "We'll actually get somewhere if I don't have to put up with your toddling," he teased.

Aelin's mouth dropped open. "Toddling?!"

His smirk grew. "Tell me you weren't as unsteady as a toddler and I'll call you a liar, Ae." The nickname fell from his lips as easily as his dry sarcasm.

"You're horrid," she grumbled, folding her arms.

"And look at that, we're already at my car!" he announced, triumphant. She sighed and let him help her into the passenger seat.

As they headed down the streets towards downtown Doranelle, Rowan flicked a glance over at her. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

"Remember the accident that blocked up half of downtown earlier this afternoon?" she asked. He nodded. "I was in the taxi that got hit."

If he hadn't been driving, he would have stopped in his tracks. "You--what?"

"Rowan." Instinctively, she reached over and placed her good hand on his forearm. "I'm okay. It wasn't a huge crash."

"It wasn't--Aelin, do you know what happened at that intersection?"

"I remember my taxi getting hit."

His throat bobbed. "The driver that hit your taxi skidded on black ice and T-boned another vehicle. It was...it was bad."

She gasped. "I had no idea."

"Of course not," he murmured. "You were injured, Ae." He shifted one hand off the steering wheel so he could wrap it around her good hand. "There were some serious injuries, but everyone made it to the hospital in time and it seems like they're all stable. Police arrested the driver for DUII and reckless driving." His thumb rubbed across the back of her hand. "It's been all over the news and social media."

"I had no idea," she repeated, softly. "I...I'm glad everyone seems to be okay." She leaned back into the seat and was quiet for the rest of the drive back to her hotel.

At the hotel, Rowan surprised her again by parking, helping her out of the car, and grabbing a small duffle bag from the backseat of his car before accompanying her inside.

"What are you doing?" she hissed under her breath as he walked beside her to the elevator, his steadying hand on her lower back.

"I've been given orders to see you safely home," he drawled, mirth lighting his eyes.

She frowned. "I'm at my hotel, in case you haven't noticed."

He nodded. "You are. And I'm going to make sure you get to your room safe and sound."

"You going to pat me on the head and tuck me into bed, too?" she griped.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind putting you to bed, Aelin," he whispered into her ear. The heat concealed in his lazy words barreled down her spine, awakening a part of her that had absolutely no business being so active when she was supposed to be resting and recovering.

She stepped out of the elevator before Rowan and led him down the hall to her room, where she stopped, took a deep breath, and pressed her key card to the lock. The small screen flashed green, the door unlocked, and with her hand on the half-open door, Aelin turned to face Rowan, her calm voice belying her thundering heart.

"Stay with me, Ro?"

More emotions than she could count flashed across his face. He followed her into the hotel room, closed the door, and leaned himself against the door frame, resting the weight of his gaze on her.

"I'd love to."

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

[jawritter]

Something About Fate...

Chapter 3

Summary:  Y/N has been homeless and living on the streets of Dallas, Texas since the start of Covid. Until one day, a handsome, green eyes strange notices her and turns her whole world upside down.

Warning: Jensen’s friends aren’t too sure he’s done the right thing by taking Y/N in, meanwhile, Jensen seems to have some conflicting feelings of his own...

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader (eventually).

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This series is completely unbeta’d, so all mistakes are mine! This series will contain mature content eventually, and therefore is unsuitable for persons under 18 years of age! Anyone under the age of 18 will be blocked for my blog! Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all enjoy this series!

Main Masterlist                  Series Masterlist

Y/N’s POV: 

Jensen had absolutely refused to let Y/N take the couch that night. He insisted that the king-sized bed was more than large enough for the both of them. She was pretty sure he was far too tall to fit the couch anyway, and honestly, it looked extremely thin and uncomfortable as hotel couches tend to look. It didn’t help that it didn’t have a pull-out mattress either, which most hotel rooms with a couch did. It was very clear that when Jensen’s flight got delayed, they literally threw him in the first available room. 

Still, even though she was ‘safe’, or appeared to be safe, warm, her head on a pillow that was strangely too soft for her, and her stiff and sore body wrapped in a pile of blankets and covers while she lay on the pillowtop mattress underneath her, still did not come easy. 

Long after the ice cream had been eaten, and Jensen had fallen peacefully asleep just on the other side of the bed, she’d stayed awake, staring at the television that still played low in the corner, or the wall, or the window, or the ceiling; her mind running a thousand miles a minute. 

It didn’t feel real. Even though she’d spent the evening talking to Jensen, the pair of them telling one another about their lives so far, and even though she could feel the occasional movement of his body next to hers, she didn’t understand who this could be happening, and it was not some sort of fever dream. Surely, she must be dying, and that’s why she’s seeing this, it’s all a hallucination… But then again, if it really wasn’t real, why did it FEEL so real? Cause it sure as hell all felt very, VERY real.

She didn’t really know what time she finally fell asleep, but the first thing she heard was whispering when she started to slowly wake. At first, she thought she was dreaming it, until her sleep fogged brain started to clear slowly, and the things they were saying started to come into focus. As wrong as it was, Y/N still had a few trust issues, rightfully so, so she did what anyone in her shoes would do, and that was pretend to be asleep, and listened to the conversation that seemed to be happening in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Jensen–”

“Don’t Jensen me Jared,” Jensen whispered angrily at his friend. “I’ve made up my mind, and you’re not changing it. She’s living and working for me now, there’s no way in hell I’m sending that girl back out onto the streets!”

“I’m not saying send her back out there, but maybe take her to a homeless shelter or something, don’t just bring in some random girl off the street and hire her, move her into your home with you—dude, what if she’s some sort of addict or something! You don’t know if she’s feeding you the truth, or what she thinks you want to hear in order to keep her ass where you are buying her shit!” Jared argued. 

Y/N couldn’t even be mad about Jared’s viewpoint because that’s what any self respecting, normal person would think when it came to homeless people, and just taking strangers in off of the street. Even though she was none of those things Jared thought she was, she’d grown a little too used to the stigma apparently. She wasn’t even shocked that it was the taller man’s viewpoint, what did shock her is that it never seemed to be Jensen’s at all, and that was just odd to her. 

“I’m not taking Y/N to a shelter Jared, it’s not gonna happen,” Jensen fired back through what sounded like gritted teeth. “You can just fuck right off with that shit! She’s not some crackhead dude! She’s just someone that got dealt a bad hand, and honestly, she deserves a fucking chance! I can give her that, besides, I need the fucking help in case you haven’t noticed lately!”

“Jensen,” a female voice butted in from somewhere else in the room, Y/N assumed it was the same girl that was with the trio last night. “I agree with you, the girl definitely deserves a chance, but I wouldn’t just go and hand her my credit card information.”

Jensen let out a long, deep breath and for a moment, fear struck a chord in her that they might have convinced Jensen to turn her back out again, but it was quickly dampened down when Jensen finally broke the silence in the room. 

“I didn’t plan on just giving her my credit card information. The only thing we’ve got lined up for a few months on my end is a few cons, which are already booked and taken care of by Creation. I don’t have to do much work. It gives me time to get to know her, and also train her for what I might need her to do. I’m not an idiot.”

“I never said that you were an idiot,” she corrected him. “Like I said, I’m all behind what you are doing, I just merely said to be cautious until you get to know her as a person. You can’t trust everyone you meet; you know that. I know you will make the right decision. Right now, what you and everyone involved needs to focus on is getting the girl some clothes.”

“About that,” Jensen voiced suddenly, and Y/N’s heart rate quickened as his distinctive footsteps approached the nightstand next to his side of the bed. “I went through her clothing this morning, and these are the sizes that were on them. I assumed you might be better at this than I am, so I was going to see if I could get you to run down the street and get her some… you know… essentials that she would need, underwear, shirts, pants, pj’s, socks, shoes, cause all she has is that bag in there.”

“No problem,” she said, “I will just drop it off at the door when I get them back here, it shouldn’t take me too long. There’s no getting out of here for us for the next few days.”

“Thanks, and if you can, keep this between the three of us if that’s okay? I don’t want people swarming the room to try and get pictures of her, of a bunch of dicks on social media being dicks,” Jensen said, and Y/N heard a pair of mumbled agreements as the pair of them made their way out of the door, leaving Y/N once again alone in the room. 

She had a choice then, she could either pretend she was still asleep, or get up and face the music, because as the woman had stated, there was no leaving for the next few days, she assumed it was too cold for any planes to take off. 

Jensen’s POV:

Jensen’s gaze shifted over the pile of covers that was Y/N and sighed heavily as he let his tired body drop heavily onto the couch he’d wandered over to. 

Drained, he was so fucking drained. That conversation felt more like a marathon than it probably should have, and even though he’d just gotten out of bed, he felt completely exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept one bit. 

He prayed that Y/N hadn’t heard what Jared had said, because if she had, he was gonna kick his ass. 

It wasn’t that Jared had made some pretty valid points; Jensen could absolutely understand what his friend was saying. It wasn’t like what he was doing was conventional, he knew that. He also knew that he couldn’t trust everyone. Hell, he’d been in the industry long enough to have figured that out the hard way. 

Still, when he saw her sitting there alone, cold, and hungry, there was no doubt in his mind that she was absolutely not going back out on the streets. His heart ached in his chest just thinking about the state he found her in, and that surprised even him. He hadn’t really felt something like that in a long, long time. But this, whatever it was, was deeper than a passing connection with a stranger, or pity felt for someone in need. This was like a heavy punch to the gut, the kind that brings a man down to his knees. He’d venture to even say it was Earth shattering. 

Part of him was terrified. Well, he was terrified of a few things actually. First being why the hell did he have these… feelings… if they could be called that, towards a virtual stranger. Second, and probably one of the most important hang ups he was having at that moment, was what was going to be the reaction of the public if word got out? Surely, word was going to get out, that’s just the law of the jungle. 

His fear wasn’t that people would talk about him, people talk about him all the damn time. No, it was that people would attack her. The general public could be cruel, and he was horrified at what they might do to her or say to her. She’d been through enough, she didn’t deserve their crap too.

Then there was thing three that seemed to be bothering him, the overwhelming, somewhat unnatural need to protect her. 

Jensen was a shy person, admittedly, but he also had a bit of a take-charge, somewhat protective personality, but never like this. He was pretty sure he’d throw himself in front of a moving vehicle for this girl. That scared the absolute shit out of him. 

Jensen’s gaze drifted back to the pile of covers that Y/N was under, and he swallowed the lump that had taken up residence in his throat as he watched the covers shift a little. He knew she’d be waking up soon, so he grabbed the menu that sat on the sofa next to him that room service had left him yesterday, and started mindlessly thumbing through it, preparing to place an order so that some food would be here when she got up. 

She was so thin, she needed to eat something. She probably needed to see a doctor too, because fuck if he knew the last time she’d actually seen a doctor. That one might be harder to get across without sounding like a freak. 

God she probably thought he was some sick pervert already. God only knows what’s happened to her, what she’s been through, he really needed to be more careful around her. He didn’t want to scare her away from him. 

Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly unable to focus on the menu in his hand as a host of horrible scenarios swirled their way around in his head. So he reminded himself what he told her last night. One step at a time. Getting to know one another was step one. 

Maybe in the process, he could figure out why he was so damn attached to the girl already, and answer a few of his own questions.

Forever:

@britnwinchester

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@wittysunflower

@demongirl1996  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe

@jensenslady79

@spnwoman

@stoneyggirl2

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@stixnstripesworld

@fullwattpadmusictree

@nancymcl

@christycreature

@whiskey-infused-dreams

@supernatural79impala

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

@slamminmine

@deanwanddamons

@rvgrsbrns

@chevyharvelle

@i-love-superhero-movies

@lyss-dw79

@magssteenkamp

@lemondropirwin

@squirrelnotsam

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67  

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@defenderrosetyler

@thecreatiivecorner  

@vicmc624

@busy-bee-angel-misska

@justanotherwinchester

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

@emoryhemsworth

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@flamencodiva

@itmejado

@thoughts-and-funnies

@teresa-67

@hearteyes-j2

@peaches007

@bobbie3939

@vulgar-library

@writercole

@fairlyspnfanfic

@sexyvixen7

@spngi

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@donnaintx

@maliburenee

@the-family-business67

@agirlwithdemonblood

@captainsoldiergirl

@twinkleinadiamondsky

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma  

@impalaslytherin

@perpetualabsurdity

@msmarvelouswinchester

@akshi8278

@love-jackles

@irmcpar

@pink-sparkly-witch

@deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

@herstarburststories

@mimaria420

@deanwinchesterswitch

@charred-angelwings

@pascal-rascal424

@myloversgone

@fortheloveof-jackles

@eevvvaa

@bts-spnlvr12

@jxackles

@lassie-bird

@samsgirl93

@shawnie74  

@kaz11283

@mlovesstories

@ladysparks78

@sarahgracej

SAF tag list

@itsdesiree86

@evilunicorns4minions

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld

@thefemalestorywriter

@tapedeck-hearts​

@tristanrosspada-ackles

@southerngal96