#need to know more about them plsplspls

[lesbiangallagher]

CONSIDER THIS!!!

[immamapletreekid]

i need to know more about sarukui nagito

[zombvic]

hi, i love your writing can you do one where marc guiu is secretly dating lewandoski's daughter and he finds out?

MR LEWANDOWSKI (marc guiu x lewandowski!reader)

summary : in which the polish barcelona player finds out his daughter is dating his teammate

face claim : no-one exact

notes : ty for the request !! im gonna do some requests asap (theres like twenty so plsplspls be patient <3) also im gonna go on vacation soon so ill be less active.

pairings : marc guiu x fem!lewandowski!reader

BEING THE DAUGHTER of the Polish striker, Robert Lewandowski, came with its perks. Some of the benefits was the opportunity to meet your favorite players, attend exclusive events, and see important matches, such as the World Cup and UCL Finals. But managing the constant media attention and living up to the Lewandowski name were only two of the challenges that came with it. The hardest challenge of them all was keeping your relationship with the Barcelona striker, Marc Guiu, a secret.

You knew dating Marc was going to make you slightly insane. The constant hiding and sneaking around was annoying, tbh.. But if you managed to keep this a secret for over seven months, you sure weren't going to fuck it up now.

Hector quickly caught onto your little facade. All three of you were classmates, and it was clear by the looks you exchanged across the classroom, the way Marc spoke to Hector about you, and just the overall way he admired you. Hector was certain you were dating.

Him knowing would actually come in handy. It was a little easier to keep the secret when Hector was on your side. When needed, he helped cover for you by coming up with excuses in case your dad was on the edge of figuring things out.

One afternoon, while your father was out, Marc came over to your house. It was a unique chance for the two of you to have the house to yourselves, and you both wanted to make the most of it.

You were in your room, cuddling on your bed with Marc as a movie was playing on your laptop. It was relaxing, finally a moment of comfort without any worries or the anxiety of getting caught.

"This is nice," Marc murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I wish we could do this more often."

"Me too," you replied, pulling in closer to him. "But you're aware of my dad's history with my ex-boyfriends. If he found out, he would freak out."

Marc sighed as he played with the strings on your hoodie. "I know. Yet, sometimes I picture us going out on a typical date night. No concerns about your father catching us. You know maybe if he got used to our relationship, he could come along."

Playfully poking Marc with your shoulder, you mocked, "Are you using me to date my father?"

Marc gave you a gentle giggle and an amused look as his eyes met yours. "Maybe I am," he answered. "But in all honesty, I just want to go out with you—no sneaking around, just a regular 'I'll have her home by nine, sir' type date."

"Wow, real cute, Marc." Just as you were about to lean in for a kiss, you heard the front door open. Your heart stopped, as you and Marc exchanged panicked and confused looks.

"Oh fuck. He's not supposed to be back yet," you whispered urgently, scrambling off the bed. "You have to hide. Like now."

Marc quickly got up, looking around the room for a hiding spot. "WHAT?! Where should I go?!"

"Jesus Christ, Marc. I don't know just.. just get under the bed or something!" you whispered, trying to keep your voice down.

Just as your father yelled something from the living room, Marc dove under the bed. "Y/n? You home?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before opening your bedroom door. "Yeah, What's up?"

He walked down the hallway, a frown on his face. "I thought I left my other keys here. Have you seen them?"

You shook your head, trying to look casual. "Nah, I haven't seen them. Maybe you left them in the locker room after training?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe. I'll call someone to check if someone found them. Are you okay? You seem... off."

"I'm good, Dad," you said quickly, hoping he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice. "Just tired, I guess.."

He looked at you for a moment longer before nodding. "Alright. Well, I'm going to head back out then. Let me know if you find the keys."

As he turned to leave, you heard a muffled cough from under the bed. Your eyes widened in horror as your father stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing.

"What was that?" he asked, turning back to you.

"What do you mean" you said quickly, desperately trying to think of an excuse. "I didn't hear anything. Is your hearing alright?"

"Hey, I'm still only 35 years young. Anyways, I'll just head out, I guess. See you later, honey." He said as he walked out the front door.

As you walked down the hallway to reach your room, you exclaimed, "Marc, what the fuck was that? The one time you NEED to be quiet, you actually cough. How on earth is that possible?"

"Hey, I didn't put all that dust under your bed," he playfully said while hugging you. "Calm down, babe. He didn't even see me."

"Yeah, but he heard your silly ass. Anyways you should just go. He might come back soon."

At least three hours had passed before your dad returned, which was kind of annoying because you had the chance to finish the movie and still had two hours left to hang out without interruptions.

"Hey honey, I'm back home," your dad said as he walked into the house. You were sitting on the couch, watching Suits (a goated show btw).

Your dad's voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You quickly paused the show and turned to face him. "Hey Dad," you replied.

He looked around the living room with a curious expression. His eyes fell upon the hoodie that Marc gave to you. The hoodie that exclusively Barcelona players got. His brow furrowed slightly as he picked it up, examining it with a puzzled look.

"Whose hoodie is this?" he asked.

You swallowed nervously, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "Oh, uh, that's Marc's," you said, mentally cursing yourself for not changing beforehand. "He gave it to me last week."

Robert's gaze shifted from the hoodie to you, his expression unreadable. "Marc's?"

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "We… we've been hanging out a lot. Last week i was cold so he gave it to me."

He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge your sincerity. "Hanging out," he echoed, more a statement than a question.

You nodded again, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "Okay, yeah. So, Dad, we've been dating for.. a while now."

His eyes widened in surprise, shocked expression on his face. But he didn't look angry. Instead, he let out a slow breath and nodded.

As he stared at you for what felt like an eternity, processing the information, he finally spoke out, his voice calm yet tinged with disbelief, "You and Marc... have been dating?"

"I… I didn't know how you'd react," you admitted, feeling a pinch of guilt for keeping it from him. "And I didn't want you to worry."

Robert leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "I see," he said. "And how long has this 'while' been?"

Marc cleared his throat, speaking up, "About seven months, Mr. Lewandowski."

Your dad looked at Marc with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Marc? What are you doing here?" he asked, seeing him in the living room unexpectedly.

"I'm sorry, sir. Y/n messaged me to come over, so I did," Marc spoke out, trying to explain his sudden arrival.

"Sorry for not telling you sooner, Mr. Lewandowski," he said earnestly. "We didn't mean to keep it from you."

Robert eased his expression and laughed. "I understand," he softly said in response. "While I can't say I'm not surprised, I appreciate your honesty. Also, Marc, we've known each other for some time now. Just call me as usual." Your father joked with his teammate, your boyfriend.

You felt a wave of relief when you realized he wasn't upset. To be honest, he looked more interested than angry. "So, what do you think, Dad?" You questioned him.

Robert leaned forward, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, if Marc here has managed to win your heart for seven months without my knowledge, he must be doing something right," he said, his tone teasing yet approving.

Marc and you exchanged a relieved smile as you felt the tension ease. Despite his reputation for being serious, Your dad has surprised you today by showing you compassion and comprehension.

You said, "Thank you, Dad," appreciating his understanding.

He chuckled loudly and replied. "Please just promise me that you will keep me updated. I'm happy for you both."

It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming feeling of relief. The secret was finally out.

[smutinlove]

PLSPLSPLS I NEED JASON WITH A GIRL WHO IS LIKE A JOURNALIST/PHOTOGRAPHER AND THEY MEET AT ONE OF BRUCES GALAS AND SHES PART OF PRESS AND SHE IS THERE BEFORE ALL THE GUESTS ARRIVE AND SHES JUST QUIET AND FOCUSED AND HES LIKE HONED IN ON HER HNNNNG i’m passionate for this if you can’t tell.

The camera's strap hung around your neck. You could feel the weight of the white tote bag that you clutched tightly. There were three security guards who skillfully guarded the door. As you made your way for the door, one of them asked, "Who are you?"

You showed him your I.D., and they let you in. Perks of being a journalist. You were greeted with luxurious and well-placed decorations. The caterers had just arrived too. There were soft tunes playing, ranging from a delicate guitar to an exciting piano solo.

You quickly grabbed your camera and took a candid shot of a few caterers and DJs'.

You moved forward. Paintings littered the walls of the venue. It was beautiful. You grabbed your camera once again and started taking pictures.

But little did you know that one of the sons of Bruce Wayne was watching you intently. His gaze didn't stray away from you.

He watched as you worked. Whether it was taking pictures of the venue or jotting down notes in your notepad, he watched you with a smirk on his face and a goal in his heart.

Jason bit his lip. With a determined look on his face and a goal in mind, he walked over to you.

Currently, you are taking a few more pictures of the venue for coverage.

"Hey," you heard a low voice pang from behind you. You gasped and let out a shriek, dropping your camera to the floor.

As you turned around, you saw a familiar face. Jason Todd. You had once written an article about the Wayne family, even diving into some of the more personal things.

"Hi—hello," you stammered. Jason grinned. "Did I scare ya, pretty? Oh, I'm sorry." He bent down and picked up your camera, handing it back to you.

You hesitated before taking it. "I'm Jason," he introduced. "I know," you muttered quietly. You told him your name and smirked. "Pretty name for a pretty lady."

You blushed.

He leaned in. "You're really pretty; I'd love to take you out," Jason confessed. Your eyes widened.

Honestly, he seemed really sweet and genuine. But you weren't that type of girl. "But I don't know you enough, Jason."

He smirked. "What do ya wanna know, love? I'm an open book." Well, this was certainly going to be interesting.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

At some point, you did not know how things escalated this fast. At first, you two were having a friendly conversation, talking and laughing about shared interests. Then, after Jason begged you to stay at the gala, you and he got drunk together.

Strange, huh? Well, after that, you and he danced more than you could count. (And would probably be the main topic. Son of a billionaire and a journalist: Friends or Lovers?

[vvampirelust]

PLSPLSPLS I NEED SOME MORE READER X ELLIE X SHANE

of course baby girl xx

warnings: smut, the plot was plotting omg, fingering (e and r receiving), oral (e!receiving), jealous shane?? 🫢 not proof read as always xx

part one here

“CUT“

The lights are blaring as the studio returns to normal. You laugh awkwardly with your co-star as you are finally able to detach from the intimate position you’ve both been in. “I think that’s the one, guys” the director announces after what felt like 50 takes of the borderline wild sex scene you’ve been filming, “Great job, you two. Seriously.”

You sneak a glance over at Ellie whilst slipping on your robe. She’s staring intensely over the directors shoulder, watching the playback. It sets off butterflies in your stomach, the way she’s so infatuated with you. Her face bright red and throat bobbing, as if she’d never seen you in that way before. You’re doing your best to conceal the grin threatening to come to life.

“Hey, Els,” you chirp, passing by, “Walk with me?”

The trailer wasn’t far, thankfully. Taking her hand in yours once you were out of sight. Knowing it would make her nervous. “So you liked the show, huh?” you joke, watching as she drops her chin in a huff. “Shut up.”

Ever since that night, you’d been seeing her more often. Shane too, of course, but that was mostly for sex. Not that you didn’t love that time with Ellie, it just felt like it always meant more to her. That she seen you for more.

Once inside, you begin fixing a drink for each other. Beer, as fancy as it sounded. “You know,” you start, popping off the lid, “Seeing you watching me like that, it uh, kinda turned me on.”

“Oh really?” She takes the bottle, fingers lingering as they brush yours yet again. After a swig, she continues, “Tell me more.” You take a step closer, humming as you faux think, bringing a hand up to brush her bangs back. Leaning in, you whisper in her ear, “I was thinking about you…yano, when i was,” you cut yourself off, taking her ear between her teeth.

“Fuck,” Ellie sighs, rolling her head back. Her palm gently finds your waist, walking you backwards ever so slowly. A sharp gasp leaving you when your back hits the edge of the table. Ellie sets her beer dow, stealing your own next. The subtle clank of the bottle sending a shiver up your spine. “Well, we could turn that into a reality.”

You waist no time in kissing her. Feeling Ellie’s plump, chapped lips slotting between your own. Ellie moans, letting you take the lead. Your hands slide to cup the sides of her face, planting kiss after kiss to her sweet lips. You want her so bad, to make her feel as good as she always does to you.

Ellie’s panting when you pull away, attempting to chase after you. “Uh-uh.” Keeping your eyes on her face, Ellie keeps close watch as your fingers trail down to the knot keeping your robe in place. You almost coo at the way Ellie gulps. She’s so cute, you think. “Want me to take it off, baby?”

“Please,” she blurts almost immediately.

And with a smirk, you do. You let the fluffy white robe drop from your shoulders, fabric sliding over your skin almost sensually.

Black lace adorns your body, lingerie from your scene not so long ago. Tight bra holding your breasts perfectly, pushing them up in a way that has Ellie near drooling. Matching garter wrapping around your waist, securing your pretty lace stockings. Ellie doesn’t know where to look, pretty eyes trailing up and down your body. There’s a change in the way she breathes, as if the air was becoming thinner.

“You’re so beautiful,” she swoons, hands finding your waist, needing to feel you against her skin. You smile, always feeling so adored in her presence. All you want is to show her the same. Your own hands finding purchase on her slender shoulders. “You’re so beautiful, Els,” your voice is sickly sweet, “Let me show you.”

It’s why you now have Ellie beneath you on the couch. Straddling her now bare thighs as you swing your hair over to one shoulder. Knowing exactly what you’re doing to her. “Baby, you’re killing me,” Ellie near whines, head dropping back. You laugh teasingly, whispering “I know,” as your lips brush against the sensitive and exposed skin of her neck. Taking the opportunity to litter her with kisses and nips of your teeth, feeling the way she squirms in response.

You don’t have the strength to stop there, leaving a trail of wet kisses in your wake as your lips move lower and lower. Pushing the strap of her bra aside, Ellie’s fingers bury in your hair, soft sounds puffing past her lips. You push lower, exposing her perky tits, nipples already hard and begging. You can’t help but moan at the sight, letting your tongue swirl around her hardened peak. Ellie arches into you.

And that’s when you both heard the door, “Well well well.”

The voice is familiar, you don’t even need to look to know who had shown up unannounced. Ellie however releases a sigh of relief, confirming your suspicions, “It’s Shane.”

“Don’t let me stop you,” Shane announces, there’s a hint of a scoff in her voice. This time you do look over your shoulder, her arms are crossed as she leans against the wall of your trailer. You can’t read her expression, yet her eyes are trained on you perched atop Ellie, head tilting ever so slightly. “Gonna fuck her or what, babe? Go on.” It sets off a spark in your tummy, that she wants to watch.

Feeling a new wave of confidence, both women appearing to enjoy you putting on a show, you drop down to the floor at Ellie’s feet. Kneeling between her parted legs, your hands softly trailing along her thighs. They tremble beneath your touch as you near the place she wants you the most.

You moan once her boxers are hanging from a single ankle. Ellie’s wet, wanting cunt a sight for sore eyes. You can hear her ragged breath ringing in your ears, she clenches and your eyes follow the dribble of slick which pours from her. You can’t wait any longer.

Ellie groans out loudly, finally feeling your warm tongue delving through her folds. Her hands fist at her sides, the unbearable need soothing at last. You can’t get enough of her taste, humming into her pussy as you lap at her sweet slick, nudging your face closer than possible, no care in the world for the mess you both make. You paw at her thighs with force, silently communicating how much you love having your mouth on her.

“Fuck,” Shane mutters, Ellie whimpering in response. You sneak a glance up at her face, mouth agape and cheeks flushed, those pretty eyes of hers on the woman standing behind you. It causes your cunt to clench, the erotic nature of the situation at hand turning you on more than ever.

With a suck to her puffy clit, those eyes are back on you, a mewl tumbling past her lips. Ellie calls your name, thighs tightening around your head, keeping you in place. Not that you’d rather be anywhere else. Your tongue toys with her clit, circling in a way that has Ellie arching off the couch as she moans, sounds catching in her throat when you hit a spot that has her feeling euphoric.

A sudden heat at your back has you flinching slightly, Shane’s cool hand sliding to your waist to shush you. “I think she likes that,” she chuckles, giving your side a squeeze.

“Mhm!” Ellie whines, beginning to grind against your face, fucking herself on your tongue. You can’t enough of her. Her scent, her taste, her warmth, the feeling of her soft pussy pushing on your tongue. Everything about her. You’re moaning as if it was your own cunt being ate.

“Gonna make her cum, baby?” Shane rasps, palm now slowly running up your back, “Yeah, you are.” She slides her hand into your hair, gripping the back of your head as she forces your face further into Ellie’s cunt. Whose pitiful moan in response is music to your ears, morphing with the heavy breaths falling from Shane. Each puff hot on your back. She leans down, planting light kisses to your bare skin, urging you on.

Ellie shakes when she cums, barely able to make a sound as the feeling takes over. You watch her face contort into complete pleasure, an image that will be imprinted in your mind forever. The defined crease between her eyebrows almost adorable despite what you were doing to her. She’s gushing on your tongue and still you make no move to stop, letting her ride out her high until it’s too much.

And then Shane’s hand in around your throat, tugging you back against her chest. Your head falls back on her shoulder, blinking up at her as you catch your breath. “Good girl,” She praises, so simply getting you under her spell. She knows this and smirks. Her free hand rises to your face, thumb smearing the mix of Ellie’s slick and your spit over your lips.

“No invite for me, hm?” Shane was jealous. That was obvious to you now, it was side you would never have expected from her. As you go to respond, the hold on your neck tightens, she doesn’t want you to answer that. You sneak a glance at Ellie, still droopy from her recent orgasm. “Hey.” Shane steals your attention once again, “S’okay.” You’re unsure if she means it.

“You look so pretty in this getup,” Shane hums, hand leaving your face to trail down your body. Taking the time to trace the lingerie decorating your figure, stopping only when the tip of her finger dips ever so slightly beneath the waistline of your panties. Shane dips down, kissing the side of your neck passionately, sucking on your skin, she was gonna leave a mark. Part of you knew she was doing it on purpose, an attempt to stake claim. “Keep going,” She whispers, gently pushing you back between Ellie’s legs.

Shane’s hand fully dips into your underwear as you lay your head down on Ellie’s thigh, her fingers skimming through your soaked folds and wasting no time sinking her fingers into you.

Your teeth sink into Ellie’s flesh to muffle the moan dragged from your throat, she whimpers loudly from the pleasurable pain. You’re winding your hips down, meeting every thrust from Shane. Her fingers are so deep inside you, gliding against your walls, the sound of your wetness filling the room. You can feel her smiling smugly against your shoulder before she plants a kiss, free hand giving a light slap to your ass, reminding you to stop neglecting poor Ellie.

You skim your own fingers up along Ellie’s thigh, dragging close to her cunt. Your eyes flick to meet hers, she’s staring right back at you, eyes glossy and hooded. Keeping them there as you slide your fingertips up and down the length of her cunt, watching as she gasps and flinches from how sensitive she is.

You start with one, staring at one another in such overwhelming pleasure, you’re sure if you were shown a side by side of your faces, your expressions would be identical. Lips parted as soft sighs fall, eyes seemingly so innocent as you both beg for the pleasure to continue.

Shane’s fingers curl inside you and you whine, bucking into her hand. Ellie strokes your hair, nodding to you, she knows. You slip in a second finger, fastening your pace, Ellie’s head falls back against the couch as she basks in your touch.

Turning your head, you seek for Shane, whimpering out her name. She fucks you faster, harder, leaning forward to press her forehead against your own. “Please,” You mewl, unknowing of what you’re even begging for. Shane captures your lips, letting you release every sound into her mouth, her tongue sweeps in, having missed the way you taste.

The connection urges you to fuck Ellie with more passion, matching Shane’s rhythm. You can feel her clenching around your fingers, hear the way her moans rise. You know exactly how she’s feeling, Shane bringing you closer and closer to the high that’s been building ever since you first put your mouth on Ellie’s cunt.

You whimper into Shane’s mouth, feeling her hum in response, she knows. And squishes another third finger into your cunt, you gasp and she grins against your mouth, whispering, “Cum for me.”

You want Ellie to slip over that line with you, and with another few pumps of yours and Shane’s fingers, you’re both letting go. Hard. Your shared whines echo, almost in tandem. Shane’s kissing along your jaw, your neck, soothing you as you release, soaking her fingers, clenching so tight she keeps them snug within you. The pads of her fingers pressing rhythmically against that spot, hurtling you into overstimulation.

Ellie’s fingers tighten in your hair, legs shutting around your hand, hips raising off the couch. You don’t stop until she’s grabbing at your wrist, murmuring “Too much, too much” through high pitched gasps.

Shane slips her hand out of your panties, leaving you cold on the floor as she gets up and plops herself down on the couch beside Ellie. She brings up her fingers to Ellie’s mouth, pushing them inside so the freckled brunette could get a taste of you. Her eyes flutter as she moans around Shane’s digits, the sight downright erotic in your eyes. Shane’s mouth is wide in a grin, watching Ellie suck your juices off her fingers.

She pulls them out slowly, and the pair both look down at you. Ellie, fucked out and panting for air. Shane’s eyes hooded with lust. This was gonna be a long night…

[chrolloluvr]

Plsplspls do Adam and Mammon with a reader who behaves like a lovesick puppy and is always battling her eyelashes at them and gets all flustered when they flirt plsss 🙏🏻

Adam and Mammon w/ S/O who is lovestruck with them.

Note: I LOVE RJIS IDEA!!! ALSO WITH MY TWO FAVORITE MEN BY VIVZIE LIKE HELLO??

Female!Reader

Warnings: Touching, not proofread, but other than that nothing rlly!

Mammon 🕷️:

He would use this to his advantage. If he wants something from you, he had you wrapped around his fingers.

"Hey babe, yeah, so I need something from ya. You'll do this for me right? Aw, your such'a good girl."

He is so aware that his speech and accent give such a feeling to you. He finds you adorable.

But other than the obvious exploitation, he thinks its cute. Obviously, millions of other girls in Hell feel the same way as you, but he chose you.

But other than that, he loathes in the attention and innocent looks you give him.

He will physically flirt with you. He likes to ruffle your hair, play with your cheeks (both ass and face), ,and his favorite, forcing you to look up at him. He knows his affect on you is dangerously crazy, so he uses that to his advantage.

You feel butterflies in your stomach whenever you're around him, and his loud, obnoxious self. You love how dainty and feminine he makes you feel. You are like his princess, and he is your king. (technically that is true lol)

Because he isn't a traditional man per say, but he has a traditional view on women.

He will mentally flirt with you. He gives you a certain look:

He only does this when he wants to get you weak in the knees for him. Because he knows it works.

He will always tease you. He gets into your head like no other. When you are with him, it feels like no other man matters, it always circles back to him.

He loves the fact that you are obedient and behaved. He loathes in it. He thinks of you like a cute little puppy (that makes him no money whatsoever, but oh well.).

Verbally flirts with you. Well not necessarily always flirting, but thats what it feels like to you. Here are some things he will say to you:

"Hey babe, c'mere and sit on my lap, hurry up, we dont got all day!"

"Well don't you just look sweet, yeah? Are you tryin' to impress me or somethin'?"

"Cutie, go fetch daddy his wallet, yeah? Good girl, you deserve a little treat later, huh? You'd like that, would'nt ya'?"

Adam 🕊️:

Always brags about it. When talking to Lute or something, he will be like:

"Oh yeah fore sure. but y'know, y/n can just do that for me or whatever. Shes just like that."

He likes that you are obedient, but sometimes it crept him out, at least in the beginning. You were willing to do almost anything for him. He liked the premise, but it make him weary how much control he had over you.

But now? He uses it against you. He will have you do things for him, like paperwork, helping him clean himself, dressing him, kissing him on the cheek, etc.

He cant get enough of how you pamper him.

Praises you. He will call you a good girl, say your his princess, etc. In a way, they way him and Mammon praise you is very similar. The only difference, is that Adam is more reserved when it comes to praise in public, while Mammon is shameless. This is because he cares about his image in Heaven, and cant do too much under watchful eye.

Also gives you a face:

This man has such a devious grin, especially when he gets his way with you.

He does this face when he wants to rile you up. He knows he will too, since you are very compliant towards him, since he basically treats you like you two are married.

Also verbally flirts.

"Hey wifey- you look different today... did you do your hair or something? Looks hot."

"Hey babe can you do a favor for me and fetch me some water? Your the best babe, god."

"Aww you get embarrassed when your hubby pokes fun at you? Your such a snowflake babe, a cute little snowflake."

Touches you. He likes to tease your shy, pandering nature. So he likes to blow on your ear, come up behind you and pick you up, or just the occasional slap on the ass.

He loves how shy and embarrassed you become, so he will definitely enjoy continuing his antics.

[whoskimii]

plsplspls baby im in some serious need for some toji fluff like cuddling after a looong day… i need this man so bad😔

𖹭 WON'T YOU SNUGGLE ?! - TOJI FUSHIGURO

★ cuddlin' after a long day ft. toji fushiguro!

with a weary sigh, toji let himself fall on the squeaky couch. his muscles, which were becoming atrophied over time, were achy. lately, he'd been noticing that every time he came back home in the evening, he was in need of a massage.

and of course, you were more than willing to help your man.

sure, he wasn't old. he was only in his mid-thirties but he has had younger days. he still had the spirits but he'd never refuse being pampered by you, his cute little woman. he stretched his arms over his head before standing up with a small groan.

he made his way to the kitchen before opening the fridge and grabbing a beer. with the fresh beer in hand, he returned to the living room and lit up a cigarette. he sat back on the couch and opened the drink effortlessly. before taking a first sip, he exhaled a thick cloud of grey smoke and watched it with tired but keen eyes.

"toji." the simple sound of your sweet voice was enough for his tense body to relax. you stood behind the couch and placed your hands on his broad shoulders as you began massaging them. the muscles felt firm and strong beneath your delicate hands. without turning around, he lifted his beer towards your direction. the sight made you smile. "you know i don't drink, silly," you reminded him. he shrugged and placed the beverage on his lap before lifting his cigarette towards you. "you know i don't smoke either."

he scoffed lightly. "yeah. maybe you should." his words made you frown. "mhm ? and why is that ?" you asked curiously. "you really need an explanation, dollie ?" when you didn't respond, he continued. "alright, then. 's because you're always so tense." you giggled. "aw, yeah ? coming from you, huh ?" you pinched his tense shoulders, earning a hiss from him. "hey, wha' was tha' for ?" you only smiled and leaned down to plant a kiss on his cheek. "maybe 's for getting on my nerves, old man."

he rolled his eyes but he couldn't deny the pang of amusement he felt. "yeah ? 's for gettin' on your nerves, mhm ?" he echoed. "maybe i'm older than you but you're definitely more uptight than me, sweet thing." he teased. "hey ! 's not 'cause i don't drink that i'm uptight." you remarked with pouty lips. "you don't drink 'n you don't smoke either." you nodded. "yep. there are other ways to have fun without getting wasted, oldie."

he stood up and made his way around the couch to face you. he towered over you, placing his massive hand on your waist. "careful, lil' one. you don't wanna mess with this oldie." he said sarcastically. "aw, yeah...?" you placed your hands on his chest before planting a quick kiss on his scar. "yeah." he confirmed.

his lips found yours. "would really like to do all the nasty shits i've been thinkin' about all day but i'm too tired." he mumbled against your lips. they tasted sweet. like always. "let's cuddle instead."

your hand grabbed his bigger one. you led him to the bedroom before shutting the door once you both stepped into the cozy space. toji laid down and rested his head against the headboard, waiting for you to join him. when you finally did, he wrapped his big, strong arms around your soft body and held you close. he buried his nose in your velvety hair, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. "you always smell so damn good." he remarked in a whisper.

after that, he tucked his head in your neck, subconsciously drawing lazy patterns on your tummy at the same time. you snuggled into his side and closed your pretty eyes. you felt peaceful. toji always managed to make you feel safe. given the man, it wasn't difficult to feel at ease around him when you found yourself on his good side. "y'know i care 'bout you, mhm ?" he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by your skin. "i always do. always will."

his words made you smile. he was seen as such a cruel, heartless man, but with you ? it was another story. "now that i'm thinkin' about it, 's funny that a lil' woman like you can make me feel... that way." you hummed. "that way ?" you tilted your head. "you make me feel fuzzy inside." he instantly lifted his head and grabbed your chin, although with a tender grip. "but if you ever tell anybody i said that—" you giggled. "i know ! i know. i won't. they wouldn't even believe me, anyway." he grunted. "no. they wouldn't."

you made the toji fushiguro feel fuzzy inside.

for my sweet baby @megvmijx <3

[andre-and-cal]

freaky headcanons now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 Caldre Headcanons :3

GUYS LMK IF YOU WANT TOP CAL & BOTTOM ANDRE HEADCANONS NEXT cuz I have sm ideas for those but I’m too shy to do it without an ask ngl so Plsplspls lmk !! 🙏🙏

These were long overdue I’m sawry I’m a #slacker… more headcanons coming soon heh zeroplan I see yew…

But uhHh here r my headcanons yippee I wanna incorporate these into my fics >_<

NSFW

Top Andre, Bottom Cal

Andre has a habit of slapping a hand over Cal’s mouth and muffling his moans, especially when he’s doing him from behind in a risky environment. He’ll have one hand on his mouth, and the other on his crotch, whispering “Shhh, shhhh, shut the fuck up,” in his ear while pounding into him relentlessly. It gives Andre a rush whenever he hears Cal’s noises get all muffled against the palm of his hand, and to feel the moisture of his lips pressing against his skin and Cal’s hot, wet, shaky breaths of air fanning into his hand.

Calvin secretly used to fingerfuck himself and imagine that it was Andre’s fingers. Whenever he’d smuggle porno tapes at the store— gay porno— he’d slip a finger or two inside his ass and envision Andre in between his legs and doing it for him. But the first time he decided to start exploring himself in this way, when he went knuckles deep and finally found his prostate, he came quick, and he experienced a high he never knew was possible. He used to be too embarrassed to admit that he did this, but he no longer needs to because he has Andre to finger him or fuck him instead, just as he’d hoped.

Andre was very careful the first time he and Cal had sex, when he took Cal’s virginity. He didn’t want to hurt him, and he was constantly asking him if he was okay. Their first time was slow, but they both savored every moment of it. Andre secretly likes when Cal wants him to go slow, because it gives him a chance to explore Calvin’s body. Calvin goes insane— in a good way, of course— whenever he feels those hands caressing his hips or feeling up his sides and waist and his body as a whole. Calvin feels appreciated and pretty, while not feeling shameful over that fact anymore.

Calvin’s favorite position is doggy style. He really loves the feeling of Andre shoving his face into his pillows, ‘cause Cal always imagines him as like some sergeant in the army, even while feeling his cock sliding in and out of his tightness. Cal will force Andre to wear his dog tag along with him so that it feels more… “army-like” in Cal’s words. Andre makes fun of him for describing it that way though. While he’s into the military as much as Cal is, he doesn’t really show it all too much for fear his parents will get suspicious of their Zero Day plans, so he forces Cal to tone it down as well.

Andre allows himself to be vulnerable around Calvin. But only really when Cal’s asleep, drunk, or high, at least. During aftercare, sometimes when Cal’s half-asleep and drifting off into slumberland, Andre will mumble into Cal’s shoulder— if he’s spooning him that time— about how he’s gonna miss him if push comes to shove with Zero Day. It’s a brief, rare moment of “weakness” for Andre, but he does like to speak fondly of Cal whenever they’re alone together, where no one can disturb them or anything. Now, going back to my point, Andre never knew that they were going to be shooting themselves together on Zero Day rather than going through with the initial plans. Rather, he fully expected them to be able to go through with the plans of escaping in his car, but a tiny part of him knew they were gonna be dead no matter what happened. He never liked to admit this to himself though, remaining in denial about the recklessness of the whole “getaway” thing. Either way, he half-hopes that Cal hears and knows that he’ll always love him, no matter what happens with Zero Day. And on Zero Day, prior to ending his life alongside Calvin after the shooting, his last coherent thought was along the lines of how he was going to try to find Cal in the afterlife— or whatever place they both would end up roaming together.

Occasionally, even while Andre’s shoving his shaft balls deep inside his ass— Cal will find the opportunity to piss him off, even through his little whimpers. He’s just like that; Cal’s middle name is practically Sarcastic. His witty nature will piss Andre off sometimes too— especially if it’s a situation where Andre clearly isn’t fucking laughing. While it does prompt him to grow rough with Cal, it turns on the both of them, because they both know Cal only does it to— well, demand without actually demanding for Andre to fuck him harder. Whenever Calvin does say some smartass shit during sex, Andre will go as far as to strangling Cal— especially while they’re doing missionary. It’s easy access to his neck anyway, and also that familiar deep, dark part of Andre gets really turned on by the feeling of Cal’s pulse drumming underneath his fingers. With this, it also helped Andre coin the nickname “punk” and various other insults in German— for Cal.

Calvin is a bit of a risk-taker and has begged Andre to load Milena and have him blow her— loaded. Eventually, after begging one too many times, Andre finally agreed. The day he agreed, Andre made it seem like they were going out to simply shoot guns together to practice for Zero Day, but as soon as he unpacked Milena from his father’s closet as Cal kept on going on about sucking on Milena, he instead turned around and shoved the barrel so far into Calvin’s mouth that it nearly hit his tonsils. And eventually, it did. He’d nudged Cal to the ground with the gun, kneeling over him as he forced him to take the barrel deep in his throat, even when it got too much for Cal and he tried to push on his chest to get him off. Andre didn’t stop until he’d pulled out his own cock from his jeans and jerked himself off, cumming all over Cal’s face and lips. Despite Calvin’s initial resistance as he began to choke on the barrel, he quickly grew hard, so he got himself off shortly after Andre released his load onto his pretty face.

Initially, Andre also felt off-put at the idea of dirty talking, even going on to dislike it. He was determined to stay quiet or hold back any noises and grunts he might make while planning his first time with Cal, a little after they’d started dating. But every time he noticed the drastic increase in the little noises Cal made whenever Andre muttered the occasional, “Shit, mein Schatz— so tight,” ,, “You like that, yeah?” ,, or something of the sort in German, he became more confident to speak like this to Calvin when they’re alone. After developing more of his “dirty-talking skills”, he got into the habit of praising Cal during sex. He goes from genuinely praising him for taking his cock or his fingers up his ass or when he’s fucking the back of Cal’s throat with his member, and then going to tauntingly praising him for being a “big brave boy” whenever Andre’s spanking him or making him take his gun in his mouth.

Whenever Cal and Andre are arguing and it gets real heated and loud between them, if Cal initiates mildly hostile physical contact— such as with pushing, shoving, yelling, or getting all up in Andre’s face, Andre will bounce it right back to him. Andre struggles with his anger a bit more-so than Cal in some ways— so one day he snapped and shoved Cal, to the point where he fell back into his bookcase. Calvin was a little stunned by Andre’s outward expression of aggression toward him, but as soon as he felt a heat coiling in his groin— he knew he wanted more, so he continued taunting Andre until he was ultimately… well— grabbed by the arm and yanked onto the bed. And then things led to another.

Andre never really imagined that he’d be into spanking Cal, but it all begun on a day when they were home alone at Andre’s together, with Cal sitting beside Andre while he played Grand Theft Auto 2 on his PS2. Mel was curled up in Cal’s lap, but eventually got off. After that, Calvin continuously inched closer until he was leaning on Andre’s shoulder, clinging onto his arm. He then began to gently kiss his neck, up to the patch of skin behind his ear, and then to his cheek and jawline. After around a minute of this, with Cal kissing up on him and trying to get him to notice or pay attention to him, Andre got a little fed up, so he gently pushed Cal’s face down into his lap. He pulled Calvin’s pants down and found himself— in the heat of the moment— spanking his backside, ignoring Cal’s yelps and cries due to the repeated stinging pain. Afterward, Cal’s face was all wet with tears and his ass cheeks were bright red. At the sight, Andre felt a little guilty at first, but when he looked down toward Cal’s boxers, he noticed that he fucking came untouched from Andre spanking him alone, so he grabbed Cal by his “pretty boy blond locks” and forced him to look up at him, before leaning down and smothering a kiss onto Cal’s lips.

Calvin, on Andre’s lap, riding him while Andre holds one of his arms and licks along the scars and scabs he has trailing up his forearm. Bucking his hips up into Cal’s rear end, rubbing the head of his cock against his prostate, and encouraging him to keep cutting himself and to engrave his name into his arm, so that people can identify him as having Andre’s name on his arm for when Zero Day arrives. That’s all I need to say. :3

[m4rs-ex3]

ALLLL RIGHTY YALL

if u haven't already seen.............. guys i was late i was fucking late for the panel give me a break

BUT here is a play by play of everything from the second i got in

[A GOOD CHUNK OF THE SECRET SCENE] if you saw this post within the first few *hours you got to see but you know what? they got to me i don't wanna be the snitch (i did on accident but its the though that counts)

opeli is being led blindfolded (which we see from opeli's pov. riveting visuals i tell you) by soren to the ✨secret meeting location✨

when she comments on the fact that it is literally just callum's office soren shuts her up bless him

opeli's like "DID BAIT GIVE BIRTH??!?!?" and soren's like no these are "rescue baits" and opeli gives them the greatest fucking look i can't even describe it to you

you've seen that leak "look it's the pearl :D""WHA""yep he's in there :)))))"

rayla says it like "per-al." just thought you should know

soren suggests forming a Fellowship of the Pearl and going to throw it into a volcano i fucking hate this show

they're all debating what to do with it meanwhile the most cryptic-ass shots of callum with the pearl like we get it he's fucked (i take it back i want more)

they finally get to him and he's like "uh????? destroy it obviously?????"

he suggests--and these are 100% his words (not actually cuz u know but its the general idea)--"smash it? throw it off a cliff? take a big ol axe and just--KA CHOP." i love him so much

rayla asks how they know it won't just release him

the way callum is so confused and conflicted and he just says "i... i don't know" oh my god by precious baby

cool ass top-down to the pearl whirlpool esq transtion into the next scene hello??

zym is being emo at a painting of his mother (the one from 4x03 yeah they just stitched that shit up it's all good)

ezran's like. huh. we oughtta do smth abt this

callum is Thinking Thoughts on the turrets(?? yk where soren does his lunges) and tossin the rune cube when he sees the star rune light up......................................

it's stella stella's there and the way he reacts to her is so precious 😭 he's not the step dad he's the dad who stepped up type shit

enter rayla "they told me u would be up here brooding"

(in a tragic turn of events the rayllum of this scene had my brain fuzzy so i can't remember a few chunks here and there have pity my brain has rotten)

callum's like "we have to do something i'm scared he's gonna use me. i know what we need to do ok we need to go to the starscraper"

it's honestly hilarious the way he says "and *WE.* should go" he's like "don't be gettin any ideas now this is an us thing"

and then ohoho "they have something there for you, too" (THAT was an exact quote)

he's like "PLSPLSPLS i've studied star magic i know the spells i know the runes i just need the quasar diamonds!! LET ME FREE UR PARENTS AND RUNAAN PLEAAAASSSSEEEE"

rayla is veryyyyyy opposed she's like "NO i want to help my parents as much as you"--honestly i don't think ANYONE wants to as much as him--"but i don't want my biases to affect that" BIASES?!??!! like that was the word she used i can't stop thinking about it

zym has entered his wolf child era his ass is HOWLING at the moon

soren hears him and goes "aww little guy misses his mom :((( sometimes i wonder where my mom is...." WHAT AWHAT WHAT AWHAT PJARDON SAY IT AGIAN YOU WAHGTS SAY IT AGIAND HUAH HUWH A

ok. yeah callum does not have pajamas BUT I THINK WE HAVE BIGGER ISSUES HERE????????????? HE WAS SLEEPING IN HIS OFFICE

THAT COUCH THING THAT THEY WERE ON WHEN RAYLA CAME BACK IN 4x03???? HES JUST SLEEPING ON IT I CANT MY GUY WHAT R U DOINGGG

in other news

bruv is tossing and turning and then just. ~stops.~ this can only mean good things (i think you know where i'm going with this)

he sits up. hobbles over to the door. there was a really cool transition (can u tell i respect the cinematography) and he's in the cellar holding the pearl.

he wakes up in aaravos' prison and is like "well this looks neat!" until he sees the mirror and screams and wakes up. when he realizes where he is he goes "what have i done" dude you fell asleep?? god he's never sleeping again (<- me when i lie 😈)

the description we got of this next scene did NOT do it justice it was fucking incredible

callum kicks down the fucking door (not actually) screaming for rayla

rayla TUMBLES OUT OF BED ON TO THE FLOOR, pillows in hands and unafraid to use them

"WHOA. HEY HEY ITS OKAY ITS ME! it's just me rayla. it's me. callum" i feel like he was saying the same 5 words for 7 hours it was beautiful

rayla: "callum?? jeez i could have-" *looks at pillows*

callum giggles the cutest fucking giggle and says something along the lines of "yeah, it would've hurt real bad :)"

oh yeah DE-LAYERED PONYTAIL RAYLA CONFIRMEDED??!?!?!?!?!

she sits back on the bed and my guy KNEELS DOWN AT THE CORNER OF THE BED TO PICK UP HER STUFF BEFORE HE SITS DOWN NEXT TO HER and they say chivalry is dead romance was birthed and ended with this scene

he tells her about it and she goes "callum, you're exhausted. you had a nightmare. if i thought you were in any real danger you know i would-" and then ironically i forget the same line that the person from nycc did wouldja look at that

can i just mention how close they were sitting in this scene i mean i jsut thikn i should mention hwo clo

yada yada he has a lightbulb and runs off with her blanket

the iconic "i know stella.. he took our blankie :("

god knows why barius is up in the middle of the night whispering sweet nothings to his jelly tarts

callum comes in with a certain proposition mwuhahaha

rayla comes into his office and sees his aesthetic ass sewing by fireside and graciously says "ah i get it! you're taking your mind off things by peacefully knitting" so iconic for both of them

callum explains that he's stitching runes to create a protection spell when barius comes in with the """"""""pearl""""""""""

rayla DIVES in front of callum and says "what r you doing get that thing AWAY from him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she got SO protective SO fast it was blessed

callum's like au contraire 😈

ok so obviously we had all heard about the fake pearl but. you know that one guy who makes insane sculptures out of nothing but chocolate? that's what they did the pearl is brown sludge with a candy coating 💀 i'm losing my mind that is so funny to me

so yeah with the decoy out the real pearl is protected by--and callum literally said this--"a magic blankie >:)"

he also pops in to tell ez and omg GUYS BAIT HAS HIS OWN LITTLE ROYAL CANOPY BED ITS SO FUCKING CUTE

dawn in the courtyard--ez is saying goodbye to soren, zym, and pyrrah who are going to look for zubeia (i almost just typed zendaya i need sleep) and callum and rayla who r going to the starscraper

my roman empire is this: callum was acting all eepy and then when they get going hE RESTS HIS HEAD ON RAYLA'S BACK AND FALLS ASLEEP. I CANNOT FUCKING MAKE THIS UP IT WAS PHENOMENAL SHE LOOKED SO FUCKING HAPPY I I I I I I HAKJSDHFKJASHFDKJHSADKFHKJASHFIHASEKFH

on a slightly lower note

scene from teaser except they did cut a couple lines in the teaser. mainly just terry going "didn't see you there,, cuz i was asleep. with my eyes closed"

he does not in fact get impaled but claudia tells him she's gonna leave him first and does just that

as she's going omfg terry's cries and pleas and "I LOVE YOU"s and "I WILL WAIT. I WILL WAIT HERE FOR YOU" was absolutely insane idk what was in the air in that recording studio but shout out to ben

i am so tired goodbye!

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Nightmare | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of abuse, descriptions of suicide, canon violence, canon gore, mentions of parental abuse (plsplspls heed these warnings and take care of yourself!!)

Word Count: 7370

A/N: Bye me when I scheduled this to post a day early...... goodnight. lmfao. enjoy!!!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

While Dean drove and you lounged sleepily in the backseat, Sam was on the phone asking for the identity behind a license plate he’d seen in a dream. Sam had come to wake you up from a peaceful slumber in the middle of the night, shouting that you needed to leave then and there.

He didn’t elaborate much until he got in the car, but even then, his explanation was frantic and disjointed.

“Sammy, relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare,” Dean tried to coax his brother.

Sam was unconvinced. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“I mean it. Y'know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see,” Dean said calmly.

“It felt different Dean. Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Jessica.”

“But in those, you were dreaming about your house, your girlfriend,” you jumped in. “But this guy… have you ever seen him before?”

Sam shook his head.

“Exactly,” Dean answered. “Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan.”

Sam sighed. “I don't know.” He perked up when the man on the phone began to speak to him again. “Yes, I'm here.” Sam side-eyed you and Dean. “Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address?... Got it. Thanks.” Sam hung up. “Checks out. How far are we?”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth. “At least a couple hours.”

“Drive faster,” Sam ordered his brother.

***

When you arrived at the home of the man from Sam’s dream, you were surprised and dismayed to see police cars, ambulance, and a body bag being rolled out of the garage of the home. You looked up at Sam, who was upset, as you walked over to bystanders.

The bystanders explained that Jim Miller had been found in his garage with his engine going and the garage door closed. It had been ruled a suicide. You knew from Sam, though, it wasn’t. Speaking of whom, he walked away from the crowd and back over to the car.

“Sam, you couldn’t have done anything,” you told him.

“Then why am I having these dreams if I can’t stop it?” He sounded agitated, but you knew it was more at the situation than you.

“Sam, we got here as fast as we could,” Dean responded, approaching you and his brother.

Sam shook his head and sighed. “So what do you think killed him?”

“Maybe the guy just killed himself?” the older brother suggested. “Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all.”

The younger one shook his head again. “I'm telling you, I watched it happen. He was murdered by something, guys. I watched it trap him in the garage.”

“Did you see what it was?” you questioned.

Sam got a little worked up. “No. I don't know why I'm having these dreams. I don't know what the hell is happening.”

You stared at Sam for a moment, as did Dean.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “We’re just… worried about you, dude.”

“Well, don't look at me like that!” Sam was becoming more panicked by the second.

“I'm not looking at you like anything,” Dean responded. “Though, I gotta say, you do look like crap.”

“Nice. Thanks.” Sam made a bitchface.

You opened the door for Sam. “C’mon, dude. Let’s pick this up in the morning.”

“We'll check out the house; talk to the family,” Dean continued.

“Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us," you told him.

Dean thought for a moment. “Yeah, you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to."

“Who?”

***

“Are you sure this was necessary?” you asked, tugging at the habit draped over your head; hair itching underneath it. You wore a long sleeve shirt with a knee-length dress over the top. Dean had decided to dress you and his brother in nun and priest outfits respectively. 

“Just trust me,” Dean answered. He rapped his knuckles on the door of the Miller household where they were having Jim MIller’s wake.

Sam sighed. “This has gotta be a whole new low for us.”

“Yeah, but it’s the most put-together your hair’s ever looked,” you smirked, referencing the copious amounts of gel you’d combed through his hair.

Sam deadpanned at you just as the door open.

“Good afternoon. I'm Father Simmons, this is Father Stanley and Sister Frehley. We're new junior clergy over at St Augustine's. May we come in?” Dean introduced.

The man nodded.

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Sam told the man who had let you inside. 

“It's in difficult times like these when the Lord's guidance is most needed.”

You could hit Dean. He was really laying it on thick.

The man snapped, “Look, you wanna pitch your whole 'Lord has a plan' thing? Fine. Just don't pitch it to me. My brother's dead.”

“Roger. Please!” a blonde older woman scolded from behind him.

“Excuse me.” Roger left.

“I'm sorry about my brother-in-law. He's… he's just so upset about Jim's death. Would you like some coffee?” the woman, who you assumed was the former Mrs. Miller, asked.

“That would be great.”

Dean sat on the couch next to you and Sam took the armchair. Ms. Miller poured each of you a cup. “It was wonderful of you to stop by. The support of the church means so much right now.”

“Of course. After all, we are all god's children,” Dean smiled.

You shot him a look, waiting for the woman to walk away. “Tone it down, Father,” you whispered to him.

Ms. Miller returned before Dean could reply to you, and he instead spoke to her. “So Ms. Miller, did your husband have a history of depression?”

“Nothing like that.” Her voice began breaking. “We had our ups and downs like everyone, but we were happy. I just don't understand… how Jim could do something like this.”

“I'm so sorry you had to find him like that,” Sam told her. 

Ms. Miller looked behind her at a boy leaning against the wall whose face was etched into a scowl. “Actually, our son Max, he was the one who found him.”

“Do you mind if maybe I go talk to him?” Sam asked. 

Ms. Miller smiled. “Oh, thank you, Father.”

You looked around the living room as Sam walked away. “You have a lovely home. How long have you lived here?”

“We moved in about five years ago,” she answered.

“Some of these old houses bring all kinds of headaches,” you continued. “Weird leaks, electrical shortages, odd settling noises at night. That kind of thing.”

Ms. Miller shook her head. “We don’t have any of that. It’s been perfect.”

Dean pursed his lips. “Huh. May I use your restroom?”

“Oh sure, it's just up the stairs,” the woman responded.

Dean stood, taking a cocktail sausage on his way up the stairs.

“I apologize for Father Simmons. He’s… still learning,” you sighed once Dean was out of earshot.

Ms. Miller gave as much of a laugh as she could muster. “It’s okay. He’s got a good heart.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you for your time,” you said, and began discreetly heading up the stairs. 

When you met Dean and Sam on the second floor, they shook their heads indicating they knew the question you were going to ask.

“Seriously?” you chewed the inside of your lip. “Nothing?”

“Zip,” Dean answered. 

“Okay then. Back to square one.”

***

Sam left you and Dean alone in his motel room for a bit to do some research on the Miller home’s history. You helped him clean weapons he’d brought to his and Sam’s motel room. 

You took the floor. You always did. You just liked to sit on the floor as opposed to the itchy quilts that normally adorned the motel beds. And it gave you more space to spread the weapons and cleaning supplies out. Without looking up at Dean as you continued to polish Dean’s handgun, you asked, “So, what’re your thoughts on your brother’s sixth sense?”

Dean blew out a huff of air. “I don’t have any thoughts.” 

“Dean, don’t lie to me. Spill.”

He hesitated. “I just don’t know. I mean, I’m not psychic. My mom wasn’t. My dad isn’t. So where the hell would he have gotten it from?”

“I’m not sure,” you said earnestly, pursing your lips. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Does he scare you? I see the look on your face sometimes, especially over the past few days. I can’t exactly place what it means.”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” he sighed. “I mean, I’ve known this kid his whole life. And suddenly he— he’s predicting people’s deaths? Doesn’t it scare you?”

“Well, there’s the difference. It scares me that he’s going through this, but he doesn’t scare me. He’s still Sam,” you answered.

“Well, yeah. Obviously he’s still Sam. I just— I guess I’m less scared of him and more scared for him. I don’t know.” You could practically see the gears in his head turning.

You stared at him as he continued wiping down his weapons and cleaning the chambers of his guns. You decided the reason why your gut had churned over Cassie in Ohio was because you were used to being the only woman in his life. You loved how honest he was starting to get with you; especially because you didn’t even think he was that honest with himself.

“What?” His question broke your train of thought. 

“Huh?”

He smirked. “You’re staring. See something you like?” 

You scoffed. “You wish. I was thinking.”

“ ‘Bout what?”

“That’s confidential,” you remarked. 

He gave you a look. “Mm-hmm.”

Sam came through the door at that moment.

“What do you have?” Dean asked his brother.

“A whole lotta nothing.” Sam sat on the bed next to your spot on the floor. “Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built.”

“Not even the land?” you questioned.

“No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property.”

“Hey, man, I told you,” the older brother said, “I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent. Nada.”

“And the family said everything was normal?”

“Yeah, nothing I asked rang any bells for Ms. Miller,” you replied.

“Well, even if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something?” Dean added. “I used the infer-red thermal scanner man, and there was nothing.”

“So what, you guys think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?”

“I don’t know. I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house,” Dean answered.

Sam began rubbing his temples. “Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house.” He paused and took a deep breath, holding his head. You straightened up in confusion. “Maybe it's just— Gosh.” Sam was clearly in agony. “Maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?”

“What’s going on?” you asked.

He started to groan and sink to the floor next to you. “My head.”

You put your hand on Sam’s shoulder to steady him while his brother crouched before him. “Hey! What's going on? Talk to me.” Dean was desperately trying to get his brother’s attention, but it seemed he was zoning further and further out. Sam’s head would have hit the floor if it weren’t for you and Dean holding onto him when he dropped.

“Sam?! Sammy?!” Dean began shaking his younger brother by either side of his face trying to get him to wake up.

You jumped up to go get him a cold towel for his head. While you were in the bathroom searching for a washcloth to dampen, Sam shot up. “It's happening again. Something's gonna kill Roger Miller.”

***

Sam made you and Dean leave pretty much immediately. Dean was trying to remain calm for his brother on the way to Roger Miller’s apartment, but it was clear to you he was beginning to freak out. 

“If you're gonna hurl, I'll pull the car over. Y'know, cause the upholstery…” Dean sassed. 

Sam’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Just drive, Dean.” Sam looked over to his brother, huffed out a breath, and looked back to the road. “I'm scared, man. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful.”

Dean briefly looked over to him. “Come on man, you'll be alright. It'll be fine.”

“What is it about the Millers? Why am I connected to them, why am I watching them die? Why the hell is this happening to me?”

“We’ll figure it out, Sam,” you assured him. 

“We've faced the unexplainable every day,” the older brother added. “This is just another thing.”

The brunet shook his head. “No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out.”

You looked at Dean expectantly.

“This doesn't freak me out.”

You leaned over the seat and hugged Sam around the shoulders, and you could feel some of the tension leave his body as you did so. 

***

You and the boys were just a second too late. Roger wouldn’t let you into the apartment building, so you opted to sprint up the fire escape. In the midst of you running up the steps, you heard metal grating against metal and a wet squelching noise.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, urging yourself to go faster. You made it up the stairs just before the other two could and discovered Roger’s head lying below his apartment window in a flower box. Your stomach churned, but you knew you had to get out of there quickly. 

“Start wiping down your fingerprints,” Dean told you and Sam, holding out his bandana to his brother, “we don't want the cops to know we were here. Come on, come on!”

You used your jacket sleeve to push up the window of the apartment that led to the fire escape. “Dean, I’m gonna take a look inside. You coming?”

He followed you in to quickly search the apartment before you hit the road once more. Just like at the Miller’s house, you saw nothing.

“I saw something, in the vision,” Sam explained once you’d gotten back to the car. “Like a dark shape. Something was— something was stalking Roger.”

“Whatever it was, are you sure it's not connected to their house?” Dean questioned. 

“No, it's connected to the family themselves. So what do you think, like a vengeful spirit?”

“I mean, potentially,” you responded. “Some spirits ‘ll latch onto families, follow ‘em for years—”

“Angiak, Banshees,” Sam added. 

“Basically like a curse. So maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy.”

“And now the something is out for revenge,” Sam continued. “And the men in their family are dying.”

“Hey, you think Max is in Danger?” you asked.

“Let's figure it out before he is.” Dean drove faster.

“Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people,” the brunet continued.

“What's that?”

“Both our families are cursed.”

‘Oh, shit,’ you thought.

Dean huffed. “Our family's not cursed! We just… had our dark spots.”

Sam snorted. “Our dark spots are… pretty dark.”

Dean’s face scrunched uncomfortably. “You're.... dark.”

“I think you guys are just weird,” you laughed.

“You’re… weird.”

“Dean, I feel like I’m listening to your brain short-circuit in real time.”

“Shut up, (Y/N).”

***

You and the boys went back to the Millers’ house dressed in your priest and nun outfits. The shifty boy from the funeral that Sam had talked to opened the door. 

“My mom's resting, she's pretty wrecked,” he explained. “All these people kept coming with like, casseroles? I finally had to tell them all to go away. You know cause nothing says I'm sorry like a tuna casserole.”

Sam smiled sadly, and Max smiled back. He gestured to the living room and all of you took a seat.

“How are you holding up?” you asked the boy.

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Your dad and your uncle were close,” Sam added.

“Yeah, I guess. I mean, they were brothers. They used to hang out all the time when I was little.” Max’s tone made him seem uncomfortable, and something about him had you uneasy, too.

“But not lately?”

“No, it's not that. It's just… we used to be neighbors when I was a kid,” Max explained. “We lived across town in this house. Uncle Roger lived next door, so he was over all the time.”

Sam nodded. “So how was it in that house when you were a kid?”

A look of surprise crossed Max’s face. “It was fine. Why?”

“All good memories?” Dean pressed further. “Do you remember anything unusual? Something involving your father and your uncle maybe?”

Max shook his head. “What do ya....why do you ask?”

Red flags were popping up in the back of your mind repeatedly. Your hands clenched your skirt tightly. 

“Just a question,” Dean answered.

“No, there was nothing. We were totally normal. Happy.”

“Good. That's good. Well you must be exhausted. We should take off.” Something in Dean’s voice told you that he was sensing the same things you were.

***

Once you were back at the motel and changed, you went to the boys’ room.

“Guys, something is not right about the way Max was acting,” you said.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean responded. “I think we gotta go visit that house.”

***

And so, you did. The three of you headed to the edge of town to visit Max’s childhood home. 

You found a man outside of his home tending his garden when you and the boys arrived at the Millers’ old home. “Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?” Dean asked.

The man responded, “Yeah, almost twenty years now. It's nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy?”

You shook your head. “No, no, actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe.”

“Yeah the Millers. They had a little boy called Max,” the older Winchester added.

“Yeah, I remember. The brother had the place next door. So, uh, what's this about, is that poor kid ok?” the man asked you.

You tilted your head in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

“Well, in my life I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street; he was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of.”

Your heart clenched. You knew exactly what that was like.

“This was going on regularly?” Sam inquired. 

“Practically every day,” the older man explained. “In fact, that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy. But the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good.”

“Now you, said step-mother.”

The older man looked off as if remembering. “I think his real mother died. Some sorta… accident. Car accident I think,” the man responded.

Sam raised a hand to his head and grimaced. 

You turned your head to him. “You okay?”

Sam winced but nodded nonetheless.

“Thank you for your time,” you told the man you’d been talking to. You then began to help Dean toward the car. Once you’d gotten him settled inside, his head lolled back against the seat. While Dean drove, you leaned over the backseat to keep an eye on Sam.

When he woke back up, he said, “Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing.”

“What? How do you know?” you questioned.

“I saw him,” the brunet replied.

“How's he pulling it off?” Dean jumped in.

‘I don't know, like telekinesis?”

‘What, so, he's psychic? A spoon bender?” 

“I didn't even realize it but this whole time, he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, he was in the apartment when his Uncle died. These visions, this whole time— I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess— because we're so alike?” You could see Sam’s mind racing.

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed frustratedly. “What? He’s nothing like you, dude.”

“Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both…”

Dean gruffly cut his brother off. “Both what? Sam, Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third.”

“Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I'm sorry, man, I hate to say it, but it's not that insane.”

“Sam, that doesn’t justify murdering your entire family,” you responded. You knew that better than anybody. 

“(Y/N)...”

Dean pulled over in front of the Millers’ current home. “He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him.”

“We're not going to kill Max,” Sam protested.

“Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer; he kills with the power of his mind’?” You nearly laughed at Dean’s response despite the situation.

“No way. Forget it.”

Dean turned the engine off and faced his brother.

“Dean, He's a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one,” Sam pleaded.

The older brother paused. “Alright, fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else.” He removed his signature Taurus pistol from the glove compartment. You grabbed yours from under your seat and shoved it into your jeans. 

You and the boys practically broke into the home. 

Mrs. Miller and Max were standing in the kitchen. Both seemed upset. “Fathers?” Mrs. Miller asked. “Sister?”

Max gritted his teeth. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Dean said. 

“Max, can we, uh, can we talk to you outside for just one second?” Sam asked.

The boy seemed suspicious. “About what?”

“It's— It's private. I wouldn't want to bother your mother with it,” answered the brunet. “We won't be long at all though, I promise.”

Max nodded and went to follow you out the front door. Before Dean could open the door, the doorknob pulled out of his hands. 

“You're not priests!” Max yelled. Dean went to draw his pistol, but Max pulled it away with his powers and slid it across the floor to himself. He pointed the gun at you and the brothers, and you quickly drew yours.

“Max, what's happening?” Ms. Miller asked, voice shaking. 

“Shut up,” the boy gritted through his teeth. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I said, shut up!” Max flung his step-mother across the room, and she hit her head on the kitchen counter. The blonde crumbled to the ground unconscious.

“Max, calm down,” Sam urged, trying to gesture to you to put your gun down.

“Who are you?” Max’s eyes pooled with angry tears.

“We just wanna talk.”

“Yeah, right, that’s why you brought these!” He indicated the gun he was holding as well as yours.

“That was a mistake all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max ok? Just please, just hear me out.”

“About what?” the teen’s voice calmed down only slightly.

“I saw you do it. I saw you kill your dad and your uncle before it happened,” Sam explained.

Max faltered.

“I'm having visions, Max. About you.”

The boy laughed coldly. “You’re crazy.”

“So what, you weren't gonna launch a knife at your stepmom?” Sam tapped his eye. “Right here? Is it that hard to believe, Max, look what you can do. Max, I was drawn here all right? I think I'm here to help you.”

Max began to cry harder. “No one can help me.”

“Let me try. We'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean, (Y/N), and Alice out of here,” Sam said.

“No way,” you and Dean said in unison.

The chandelier above you began to shake. “Nobody leaves this house!”

“Max, c’mon, dude, let Sam and I talk to you. We’ll send Dean and your stepmom upstairs, and I’ll put this away,” you said, referring to your gun.

“Look, Max. You're in charge here, alright, we all know that,” Sam told him. “No one's going to do anything that you don't want to do but we’re talking five minutes here man.”

“Five minutes?” Max looked over to Dean. “Go.”

Dean rushed to Ms. Miller and gently brought her upstairs. Dean took one last look at you and Sam before going upstairs.

“Look, I can't begin to understand what you went through—”

You cut Sam off. “I can.”

Max looked at you, surprised and angry. “How?”

“My parents did the same thing your dad and stepmom did to you,” you explained. “But I’m not gonna kill somebody over it. This has to stop, dude.”

“It will, after my stepmother—”

“Do you really think that’s gonna stop it?” you asked. “Really?”

He stared at you, and you felt you were beginning to get through to him. 

“Does it feel different now that your dad and uncle are gone? Do you feel better?” you pressed further.

“No, but it will,” spat Max through his tears.

“I don’t think so, kid,” you replied. “It doesn’t feel different for me. My parents are dead and gone, and it still fucking hurts.”

“Yeah, but at least you don’t have to look at them every day.”

“Can I be honest with you though? I wish I could. No matter how many times my dad hit me, I still want his approval. I still want to see him again.”

Max shook his head. “Not me. I’m happy my dad’s gone. You haven’t been beaten in a while, huh?”

You replied, “No.”

“Try last week.” He lifted up his shirt to reveal a large bruise littering his ribcage. “My dad still hit me. Just in places people wouldn't see it. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly.

“When I first found out I could move things it was a gift. My whole life I was helpless but now I had this. So last week Dad gets drunk. The first time in a long time. And he beats me to hell, first time in a long time. And then, I knew what I had to do,” Max explained.

“Why didn't you just leave?” you asked.

“It wasn't about getting away. Just knowing they would still be out there. It was about… not being afraid. When my Dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?” Max asked you and Sam.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied.

“He blamed me for everything. For his job, for his life, for my Mom's death,” Max continued.

Sam’s interest was piqued. “Why would he blame you for your Mom's death?”

Your breath caught in your throat when Max gave his explanation. “Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib. As if that makes it my fault.”

“She died in your nursery?” Sam questioned.

“There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling!” 

You discreetly looked to Sam. 

“Listen to me, Max. What your dad said, about what happened to your Mom. It's real,” Sam told the boy. “It happened to my Mom too, exactly the same. My nursery, my crib, my dad saw her on the ceiling.”

Max laughed coldly. “Your dad must have been as drunk as mine.”

“No, no. It's the same thing, Max. The same thing killed our mothers.” You could tell Sam was excited by the missing puzzle piece being filled in. “This must be why I'm having visions during the day. Why they're getting more intense. 'Cause you and I must be connected in some way. Your abilities, they started six, seven months ago, right, out of the blue?”

“How'd you know that?” Max tried to remain calm, but you could tell he was intrigued.

“Cause that's when my abilities started, Max,” Sam went on. “Yours seem to me much further along but still, this has to mean something right? I mean for some reason, you and I… you and I were chosen.”

Max’s tears subsided. “For what?”

The younger Winchester sighed, “I don't know. But (Y/N), my brother, and I; we're hunting for your Mom's killer. We can find answers, answers that can help us both. But you gotta let us go, Max. You gotta let your stepmother go.”

The boy thought for a moment. “No. What they did to me? I still have nightmares. I'm so scared all the time, like I'm just waiting for that next beating. I'm so sick of being scared all the time, I just want this to be over!”

“Max, it won’t. Don’t you get it?” You were incredulous. Had he not been listening at all? “The nightmares won’t end, dude. They still wake me up screaming. Killing your stepmom isn’t gonna fix anything. I know, dude. Trust me on this one. Please.”

“I’m sorry.” The tears returned to his eyes and a twisted smile crossed his features before you were flying through the air and into the closet. The doors slammed shut on you, and you saw a heavy piece of furniture covering the place where the two doors met.

You and Sam began banging on the doors. “Max, no! Goddamn you!”

To make matters worse, Sam started holding his head and his eyes rolled back in their sockets. When he came back-to, he shouted, “No, NO!” And the heavy furniture moved from holding back the closet doors.

You and Sam froze, staring at each other for a moment before pushing the doors open and sprinting up the stairs. You busted through the door to the bedroom you could hear Dean’s voice coming from.

“No, don't! Don't! Please. Please,” Sam begged him. You noticed the gun trained on Dean who stood in front of Ms. Miller. “Max. Max. We can help you. Alright.”

“Kid, I know it fucking sucks,” you continued. “But this, what you're doing, it's not the solution. It's not gonna fix anything.”

Max was suddenly a mess. His shaking hands and sweating forehead became more apparent to you as his face contorted in agony. Suddenly, he relaxed. “You're right.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, but way too soon. The gun swung around to point at Max and he shot himself squarely between the eyes.

“No!” Sam cried, and you covered your mouth with your hand.

Ms. Miller began to cry looking at her stepson collapsed on the floor. You looked up at Dean and held his gaze before crossing the room to hug him. You felt his body relax for a moment before you pulled away from him. You moved to Ms. Miller. 

“I’m so sorry,” you told her. You opened your arms to her and she collapsed into you. You held her while Sam and Dean called the police and paramedics.

You helped Ms. Miller down the stairs to her couch to answer questions for the police, and sat by holding her hand the whole way through. The woman seemed unable to focus her vision as she spoke. “Max attacked me. He threatened me with a gun.”

“And these three?” The officer gestured to you, Sam, and Dean with the end of his pen.

“They're… family friends. I called them as soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun.” She looked over at the boys and squeezed your hand.

“Where did Max get the gun?”

Ms. Miller began to cry and looked up at the ceiling. “I don't know. He showed up with it and—” The poor woman began to break down.

“It’s okay, Alice,” you told her, bringing her back into a hug.

“I've lost everyone,” she sobbed into your shoulder, and you smoothed a hand over the back of her hair. 

The cop addressed you next. “We'll give you a call if we have any further questions.”

You nodded. You looked to the boys. Sam’s face was set in his puppy-dog stare, and Dean had a look on his face you couldn’t quite read. Dean jerked his head to gesture toward the car before leading Sam out of the home.

You gave Ms. Miller one final hug, and told her to call you if she needed anything. As her tears subsided, she thanked you. You left her alone in her house, and your heart broke for her. As broken as her family had been, she was truly all alone now. That wrecked you completely.

“If I'd just said something else; gotten through to him somehow…” you trailed off once you’d made your way to the car.

“Don’t do that,” Dean told you.

“Do what?”

“Torture yourself. It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone.” You didn’t find comfort in that at all.

“When I think about how he looked at us, man, right before. I shoulda done something,” Sam added.

“Come on, man, you risked your life. I mean, yeah, maybe if we had gotten there twenty years earlier,” Dean sassed.

The three of you moved to your respective sides of the Impala.

“Well, I'll tell you one thing. We're lucky we had Dad,” Sam said.

Dean was astounded. “Well, I never thought I'd hear you say that.”

The younger brother laughed. “It could’ve gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we would've had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him.”

Dean looked back to the Miller’s house. “All things considered.”

You leaned against the car’s door and curled up on your seat. Your mind raced from the scene you’d just left. Ms. Miller reminded you so much of your mom. And now, she was alone. Then there was Max. If only you could’ve said something else. And your brother. You thought of him, too. Maybe he realized that even though your parents were dead, the memories didn’t go away. Maybe that was the reason he took his own life, not the fact that you’d killed your parents. Maybe if you would have spoken to him differently, he would still be here. You wouldn’t be all alone, just like Ms. Miller. Maybe if you’d—

“(Y/N), I’m sorry about your dad,” Sam broke you out of your thoughts.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.” You didn’t mean to come off rudely, but you knew your tone had been cold. You could see Dean looking at you in the rearview mirror out of the corner of your eye. You chose to ignore him, and kept looking out the window.

You and the boys arrived back at the motel soon after. Night had fallen, and the three of you decided you needed some sleep before hitting the road. Once you’d showered and changed into your pajamas which consisted of an oversized band t-shirt and underwear, you heard a knock on the door. 

You opened it to reveal Dean, and surprise overtook you. “What’s up?”

Dean raked his eyes over your body briefly and realized you’d forgotten to put pants on. “Uh, nothing, I just— uh.”

You quirked a brow at him. “You just?”

“Sam told me what you told Max. Thought maybe you’d wanna talk about it.”

“Aw, Dean, how sweet. Are we gonna hug?” you threw a line at him he’d used on you and Sam multiple times. 

He rolled his eyes and scratched the back of his neck. “Nevermind,” he muttered and began to walk away.

“Wait,” you said. He turned back to you and you let him into your motel room. You and Dean sat on the floor and leaned against your bed. 

“So…” you began.

“So…” he echoed.

“What do you wanna know?” you opted for asking, not sure how to begin this conversation.

“What happened to you?”

You sighed. “My dad was just… way too hard on me. And Bubba, too. He just… if we weren’t doing something right, he’d give ‘physical punishments’ to help us correct our form. He said it was because he wanted to keep us safe. Like, when I was learning to shoot and I would miss, he’d hit my hands with the butt of whatever gun I was shooting with. Hard. He said I’d remember the feeling and it’d fix my aim. And I hate to say it, but he was right. I rarely miss a shot.” You paused, thinking of another example. “When he’d go to hit Stevie, though, I always got in the way. Which he’d then hit me for another reason. He said it was because he needed to teach my brother a lesson and I shouldn’t get in the way of the natural consequence. My brother was always bigger and stronger than me even though he was two years younger. He made us spar all the time. And if he saw either of us holding back, my dad would spar us. And he didn’t hold back at all.” You drew in a shaky breath. “I was always the smallest in the family. He made sure I stayed super thin when I was little so I could always squeeze into tight spaces. I’m pretty sure that had he not, I’d be a lot taller than I am. Maybe could pack on some more muscle, too.”

Dean just stared at you, unsure of what to say.

“And you wanna know the worst part?”

He nodded.

“I don’t even hate him for it. I wish I could. But he’s my dad, y’know? The good times were always really good. I know he cared about me and Bubba. I just… he didn’t know how to show it, is all.”

“(Y/N), I don’t know a damn thing about love, but that sure as hell ain’t it,” Dean responded. 

“I don’t know, Dean, I really haven’t seen much better examples anywhere else in my life,” you laughed uncomfortably. “I mean, hunting isn’t exactly a profession you can have relationships in. And hookups just aren’t for me; they make me feel like garbage.”

“I get it,” he answered.

“No, way, dude. You’re king of hookup kingdom,” you sassed.

“I’m serious! I wasn’t always. I’ve always… loved girls, y’know, but I didn’t always know what to do with ‘em. And some of ‘em you can just tell are using you. Even if I’m doing the same thing to them, it doesn’t feel great.”

Your gaze softened. “Then why do you keep doing it to yourself?”

“It’s a great way to blow off some steam. Besides, it’s so fun, why the hell would I stop?”

“Good point,” you shrugged. 

The two of you sat in silence for a minute. 

“How the hell did we go from talking about my dad hitting me to your sex life?”

He laughed. “I have no idea. But, uh, I’m sorry all that happened to you.”

“Meh, I’ll get over it. Eventually,” you shrugged.

“I know you didn’t tell me the worst parts, though,” he said.

“How?”

“You get this look on your face when you’re talkin’ about something that really upsets you. Like your parents’ death. That’s the only time I’ve ever seen you hurt that bad,” Dean explained. “Anyway, if you ever do wanna talk about it...”

“I know,” you smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You and Dean talked for hours on the floor of your room. His shoes were abandoned somewhere, his button-up had been abandoned, and you were several rounds of Texas Hold-Em deep. You played with bullets instead of poker chips; it was all you had on hand.

You laughed at some stupid joke Dean had made as you called. A ten of hearts, seven of clubs, and nine of clubs laid before you and Dean on the ground.

He hummed. “Raise.”

You flipped up the top card. Ace of spades. ‘Fuck.’ But you wouldn’t let Dean win.

“Bet.”

“Raise.”

You flipped up the last card. Six of hearts. You fought the smile trying to work its way onto your face. “Bet.”

Dean eyed you, and you eyed him right back. You stared at each other intensely until he finally said, “Fold.”

“Yes!” You said triumphantly, falling back to the floor. 

“Yeah, whatever, we’re not even playing for real money.”

“You’re just butthurt you got beat, Winchester,” you retorted. “Don’t be a baby.”

He made a face at you. “I’m not.”

“You are totally pouting right now, dude, just admit it.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Am not.”

“Are, too.”

“Fine,” Dean conceded. “It’s just ‘cause I’m tired; that’s the only reason you beat me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure. Then let’s go to a casino together sometime. We could definitely use the cash. And you’re not half-bad.”

He smirked at you. “You’re on.”

You walked him to the door after having decided he needed to go to sleep since he was driving. 

“Goodnight, Dee.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

You ignored the way his nickname was beginning to make your heart flip.

***

You and Dean had apparently not decided to go to bed early enough, and you both yawned as you packed up the car. 

“Dean, I've been thinking,” Sam told his brother.

“Well that's never a good thing,” he yawned in response.

“I'm serious. I been thinking, this demon, whatever it is. Why would it kill Mom, and Jessica, and Max's mother, you know? What does it want?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well, you think, maybe, it was after us? After Max and me?”

“Why would you think that?”

“I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities, you know? Maybe he was, he was after us for some reason.”

Dean slammed the trunk shut. “Sam. If it had wanted you, it would've just taken you. Okay? This is not your fault, it's not about you.” He headed back into the motel room, and you and Sam followed him.

“Then what is it about?”

“It's about that damn thing that did this to our family. The thing that we're gonna find, the thing that we're gonna kill. And that's all.”

“Actually there's uh... there's something else too.”

Dean turned back around. “Ah, jeez. What?”

“When Max left me and her in that closet, with that big cabinet against the door... I moved it.”

“Huh. You got a little more upper body strength than I gave you credit for,” Dean remarked.

“No man, I moved it. Like, Max.”

“He’s not lying,” you affirmed.

Dean paused for a few moments. “Right.” He picked up a spoon from the nightstand. “Bend this.”

Sam deadpanned, “I can’t just turn it on and off, Dean.”

“Well, how'd you do it?” 

“I don't know, I can't control it. I just— I saw you die and it just came out of me, like a, like a punch. You know like… a freak adrenaline thing.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure it won’t happen again,” Dean replied.

“Yeah, maybe. Aren't you worried, man? Aren't you worried I could turn into Max or something?” Sam was unconvinced.

The older brother shook his head. “Nope. No way. You know why? ‘Cause you got one advantage Max didn't have. Two, actually.”

“Dad? Because Dad's not here, Dean.”

“No. Me.” He smirked. “And her. As long as we’re around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you.”

Sam smiled a little and his puppy dog eyes returned.

Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and began pushing you and Sam out the door. “Now then. I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go.”

“Where?”

“Vegas.”

Sam rolled his eyes and walked out the door to the car.

“What? Come on man. Craps tables. We'd clean up!” Dean tried.

You laughed. “Dean could use your help with Texas Hold ‘Em, too.”

“Can it, (Y/N).”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers

[rheas-ripley]

Championship Blues

Summary: Rhea Ripley just lost her championship and needs a little help coping with the loss.

Warnings: just a bunch of tooth-rotting fluff!

Word Count: 1k

Author’s Note: hi angels! this is my first oneshot ever so plsplspls let me know how i did! message me with anyyy thoughts on how to make my writing better cuz i wanna keep doing this :) also this is not proofread lol but send reqs

——————————————————————————

Pain. Pain was all that Rhea felt as she walked through the gorilla after telling the whole world that she was suffering from a shoulder injury and would have to vacate her championship title. Rhea Ripley wasn’t an emotional person. She had a reputation to keep in the ring. But today, Rhea was nothing but emotional over the loss of her title. To lose one of the most important things in her life was very hard on her. So pain was the only thing Rhea felt in that moment.

To say Rhea losing her championship was a big change would be understating it tremendously. To put it into perspective, Rhea and Y/N have been together as long as Rhea had been champion. Rhea is at the height of her career and getting injured at a time like this is just a big inconvenience that no wrestler would ever want to experience. Of course everyone knows the risk of getting injured and that it could always happen to you, but no one ever expects something like this to happen to them. Especially not the Women’s World Champion.

As she walked through the curtains, Rhea was met with her fellow Judgement Day members ready to greet her and give their condolences. The Judgement Day was her wrestling family, her home away from home. These people were there for her when no one else was, especially her girlfriend Y/N.

“Hey guys,” Rhea forced a brief smile before returning to the slight frown that had been glued to her face all day. It was obvious that this was taking a toll on the raven-haired girl since she normally held a more positive demeanor when she wasn’t in the ring.

“It took a lot of strength to go out there and do that baby. You’re the best champion WWE has seen in a while and your reign was amazing. I know you’re gonna come back stronger than ever,” Y/N spoke and walked over to her girlfriend, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. If they were alone Y/N would have just held her girlfriend tight and kissed all of her sorrows away but she wanted everyone else to get a chance to say what they wanted to Rhea before Y/N whisked her away and kept her all to herself.

“Yeah that wasn’t an easy thing you just did lass,” Finn said and everyone agreed. The Irish man stepped out and embraced Rhea in a hug. “We are so proud of you and can’t wait for you to come back.” Finn slightly rubbed Rhea’s back before releasing her.

“Hurry back Rhea, the Terror Twins have more shit to start!” Damian joked, trying to lighten the mood. He then maneuvered through the group to hug her and kissed the top of her head. “Get well soon hermosa,” Damian added and ruffled her hair up a little bit. The two have always been the closet out of the group, besides Rhea and Y/N of course. They just seemed to understand each other in a way only they could understand and shared a familial bond like no other.

“We all love you so much mami,” Dom chimed in with a smile. This was true, everyone in the Judgement Day loved Rhea very much. She was the glue that held the group together.

“Thank you guys so much,” Rhea voiced and looked around the room. All that was running through her head in that moment was how long she’d be away. Of course she had hope that the group would survive without her, but what about her title? Who would be the new Women’s World Champion? “Alright babe I think it’s time we head back to the hotel.” The raven-haired girl said as she glanced down at her Apple Watch.

Once the pair arrived at their hotel room, emotions were running very high. Rhea was sad and silent as a mouse, not one to begin the conversation pertaining to her feelings. Y/N knew this though and wanted to make sure her girlfriend was okay.

“Baby I know this is hard for you,” Y/N huffed as she laid next to Rhea on their shared hotel bed. The lights were low and the television was only slightly heard. Y/N placed one of her hands onto Rhea’s and the other on her stomach. “How are you feeling right now?” She questioned and looked over at her girlfriend.

“Honestly,” Rhea started, gathering the words that she wanted to say, “I’m scared.” She sighed and continued, “I’m scared that when I come back, everyone will have moved on. I mean what’s gonna happen when I come back and there’s a new champion and everything’s different ya know?” Rhea ran her free hand through her hair, visibly frustrated.

“I know baby, I know it’s hard. But you are way better than any,” Y/N emphasized the last word, “woman on that roster. When you get back, I’m sure the fans and everyone else will be begging for you to reclaim your spot as champ.” She rolled over and straddled Rhea, showering her face with kisses and leaving marks from her lip gloss everywhere. Rhea’s frown suddenly turned into a smile which caused another one to form on Y/N’s face.

“You are so amazing baby and everyone loves you. You were the best champ and will continue your reign when you get back,” Y/N spoke and brushed a stray piece of her girlfriend’s hair behind her ear. The pair locked eyes and in that moment, Rhea knew that everything was going to be okay.

“I love you so much Y/N, thank you,” Rhea slightly nuzzled her head into Y/N’s hand and gave it a kiss. Rhea wrapped her other hand around her girlfriend’s waist and pulled the girl closer to her. “Now enough talk about wrestling, can we find something to watch?” Rhea suggested, her mood clearly brighter. Of course their conversation wouldn’t solve all of her problems or clear up all of her doubts, but it did give her temporary clarity. Rhea knew that through whatever would happen to her, she’d always have her girlfriend in her corner.

[swift-creates]

category: Gen

fandom: DC Comics (Young Justice, Batfamily)

characters and relationships: Tim Drake, clone baby, Kon haunts the narrative (Timkon isn’t explicit but. it’s a clone baby au)

warnings: almost drowning, infant whump

Summary:

@ailesswhumptober Day 29: Ownership, branding, “Everybody will know that you’re mine.”

Tim tries to clone Kon, but this time it works.

notes: I can write so many Timkon fics with this prompt list :fireElmo: Inspired by this post by @hyperblue which has haunted me from the moment I saw it please come bother me with interest about this AU or any of mine plsplspls on my knees in tears pls

—

Tim woke to the loud beeping of one of the many machines in his lab. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, frowning at his reflection in the powerless computer screen; there were sleep marks on his cheek from the sleeve of his sweater, but aside from that he barely looked like he’d rested at all. The circles under his eyes hadn’t budged, and he sighed and scrubbed his hands across his face. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see them, anyway. He rarely left his lab except to grab more snacks from Titans Tower when he ran out, his work far too important to abandon. 

Tim got up and trudged past the empty cloning chambers to look for whatever had gone wrong, picking at the plaster on his arm where he’d drawn his own blood. His tablet lay on a table across the room, and he needed to recheck the Kryptonian environment values he’d copied off the Batcomputer-

One of the chambers wasn’t empty. 

He stared at it for a second, seeing but not quite understanding. Attempt one hundred and twenty-nine successful, the green letters said cheerfully. He stepped closer slowly, as if it was an animal that would lunge and try to bite him, and gingerly placed a hand against the glass. It was near but not exactly room temperature — 99.2 degrees Fahrenheit, 37.3 degrees Celcius, to be precise, ever so slightly warmer than a regular human temperature. 

“It worked,” he said to the empty lab. The machines keeping 129 alive seemed to sigh in response, then the beeping got louder, and the infant stirred in its glowing pod. No, not just stirred. It flinched. 

Error, the screen read now in bright failure red. The small letters underneath would have told him the reason, but he didn’t read it because 129 was struggling, tiny lungs seeking desperately for air and only receiving fluid. Tim’s heart screamed, and then he realised he was screaming. 

He can’t lose him. Not again and not like this. 

One heartbeat, and he was rushing forward, smashing the glass with his bo staff and pulling the infant out of the pod. 129 coughed up liquid and was still for a terrifyingly long moment, and Tim’s heart froze in his chest. 

Then the baby took a shaky breath and let out a gloriously loud cry. Now he was wet and wailing, but he was breathing. At least he was breathing. Tim went to rub a hand across his face in relief and halted when he realised it was covered in thick fluid. “It’s okay,” he said, and realised his throat was choked with tears. 129 cried louder and kicked his little legs as Tim became painfully aware how austere and clinical his lab was, absolutely no place for a helpless infant. There was no milk ready for him, no swaddling cloths to wrap him up in. And it was so, so cold. He must be so cold. Get it together, Drake. 

There was a shirt hanging on the back of his chair, and Tim reached for it, wrapping 129 in the black fabric and holding him close. “Shhh. It’s okay. Shh, shh.” The baby’s cries lowered slightly in volume, but didn’t stop. Tim bounced him gently, folding the shirt over him to keep him warm better- 

The edge of a familiar red insignia peeked out from underneath the folds of the shirt, and Tim froze. Kon’s shirt had artificial amniotic fluid and a crying baby in it. Kon’s shirt was wet and soiled and ruined and gone and Tim can’t even protect this one last part of him can he-

Then he was sliding down the wall to the floor and realised he was the one crying now. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, to Kon and to 129 and to no one at all. “I’m s- I’m so sorry.” 129 made a soft sound in his arms, but that just made him cry harder. Tim couldn’t take care of a baby. He’d failed Kon and failed Bart and failed Bruce and it’d been barely a day and he was already failing 129. 

As if that wasn’t enough, he had the stark realisation that the child in his arms resembled old baby pictures of Tim himself a little too closely, the tiniest package of Kryptonian blue eyes in a round little face. “Everyone will know you’re mine.” This wasn’t supposed to happen. His DNA was supposed to stabilise Kon’s, not influence it. He’d given 129 the curse of being related to him, in addition to being the ghost of a dead man. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He curled in around the infant and wept, surrounded by broken glass and a broken heart. 

[mari-the-bimbo]

PLS — DON’T LEAVE US HANGING

I just love your dorm mate Geto series, there will be other parts? Plsplspls

Dorm mate Geto: Just friends pt. 3

A/N: OKAY OKAY FORGIVE ME YA’LL!! At first I just wanted part 2 to marinate a lil you know? Then I forgot to post whoopsie! Also in my defence I was depressed over jjk new chapter leaks 😭 Enjoy! <3

It’s 8pm in the morning when you woke up and made some breakfast in the quiet dorm kitchen. The sunlight seeps through the window as you munch on some cereal.

“Bit early for a Saturday don’t you think doll?” A honey-laced voice teases from behind.

You turn around to see Geto. The usual mischievous dark coloured eyes which stared at you adoringly. His tall, broad figure towers over you, and his hands in his pockets but you can’t focus, all you could think about yesterdays confessions and kisses.

“Well good morning to you too” you tease back before placing your bowl in the sink about to walk away. He chuckles at your quick wit, he can’t help but swoon over you.

Until his large hand stops you by simply grabbing your mid section.

“Where you do think you’re going doll? I said we’re going to talk later remember?” He says like a demand but his tone is still so soft, causing butterflies in your stomach. “B-but Gojo is still here-“ you say, suddenly losing the last drop of the confident facade you had left.

“He’s still asleep after his late night. It’s just you and me doll” he reasons, unwilling to let you slip away out of his arms again. He sits at the dining table, one hand tugs on your hand, and the other pats his thigh, urging you to sit on his lap.

“Geto..”

“don’t be shy with me. You know I’m all yours y/n” he rasps as he stares into your eyes, making you grow hot and bothered, nevertheless you comply. You sit on his lap and he lets out a relaxing hum as your butt rests on his thighs.

“How you feeling after yesterday?” He asks like a whisper in your ear, rubbing your upper arm to help ease it out of you.

“I feel okay” you say, keeping it brief, even though you knew you could probably write a whole essay about it. But so did Geto.

“I need you to feel more than okay hun” he says so sweetly, making your stomach stir again.

You sigh, knowing Geto knew you too well. “Well I guess I still feel a bit bitter about you with other girls but I understand it’s not your fault because you thought your feelings were one sided.”

He nods empathetically, he’s always been so mature. You watch a strand of his black hair fall out of his hair bun, “those girls will never mean what you mean to me. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.”

���It’s not been easy having feelings for you since the day I met you, you know?” He adds, and your mouth slightly opens at his confession. Sure, you’ve liked him for a long time too, but you can’t imagine how painful it must’ve been pining for the same person since the day you met them.

He laughs softly at your reaction, his hand playfully grabbing your chin to close your mouth. “Don’t worry, it was all worth it in the end right? Don’t feel bad” he said as if he read your mind.

Your eyes soften, asking him the same question you asked last night before he kissed you. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you ask, your frail cold fingers touching his face, you feel him relax against it. “I guess I was scared that you wouldn’t like me back” he admits with a sad smile which felt unusual on the usually confident secure man.

“Well that’s not true. I like you…a lot” you say, causing him to give you the cheesiest handsome smile. “Yeah? I like you a lot too” he says, kissing your fingers, both of you dancing around the word ‘love’.

“Then are you gonna kiss me or what?” You say impatiently with a cute pout, he chuckles at your princess behaviour before pulling you closer by grabbing your cheeks with his one large hand, taking advantage of the size difference, pressing his lips against yours. His lips feverishly move against yours. He pulls away for a second to let you gasp for air before attacking your lips once again.

You’re dizzy when you pull away from the handsome man who cuddled you in his lap, your arms wrapped around his broad shoulders. All you can smell is his musky woody scent and all you can feel is his wet lips on your jaw.

“Y/n?” He murmurs against your skin, “yeah?” You ask breathlessly.

“I love you”

Your eyes widened as you felt your heart beat hundred times faster. You pull away only enough to see his face again, his eyes are genuine as he stares up at you as if you’re an angel.

“I love you too pretty boy” you say, playing with his black ear studs shyly.

He feels happy yet so smug at the same time. “Yeah? What do you love about me the most?” He asks with a smirk.

“Free barista”

He laughs so joyfully at your answer, and he looks so pretty as he does it. Geto genuinely doesn’t mind if that really is the reason you love him, he’s happily make coffee for you for the rest of his life.

“Good, that means you’re all mine”

You suddenly feel shy at his words, choosing to mess with his ear stud again. “You really love me huh?” You ask, with a hopeful smile, anything to hear him say it again.

“Oh doll, you have no idea” he says as he tucks your hair strand behind you ear, kissing your cheeks.

“C’mon now” he says patting your butt, “lemme make my princess some coffee”

[fungateshortcakes]

Breeding kink with Logan and Wade

Guysguysguys HEAR ME OUT🗣🗣‼

How about a Wolverine x Reader x Deadpool smut where they start a competition with each other -who can knock you up first? I've seen so many threesome fics with them but not one where they have a breeding kink and literally fill you up so much to the point you can’t possibly hold any more because they need to make sure it sticks😔

Plsplspls what are your thoughts and opinions on this I really REALLY want to write it but idk if I should🙏🏻🙏🏻 pls let me know

[bruisedboys]

hi mal!! i’ve been thinking about james being a dad for longer than i’d like to admit. plsplspls fluff with either james finding out reader is pregnant or him with a daughter 😚😚

yes yes omg!! I think about dad!james all the time tbh. here’s a tiny blurb, but if you have any more specific requests for dad!james please please send them in!!!! I’d be so glad to write them

fem!reader

James is tired. He knows for a fact you’re even more tired. He’d offer to push the stroller for you but his arms are full of baby. Said baby won’t be put down in the stroller to sleep, she’ll wake up in a second and just cry and cry unless one of you is holding her.

You glance back at James, looking very soft and lovely in the late afternoon sun. Golden, really. Perfect. “You okay, darling?”

James thinks for a moment you’re talking to the baby. He glances down at her. No, you can’t be. She’s clearly fast asleep on his chest, her tiny fist clutching his shirt.

“I’m fine,” James says. Honest, he is. He might be exhausted out of his mind but there’s nowhere he’d rather be right now. “You?”

“I’m good,” you say, smiling serenely. “Great, actually.” Your eyes fall to your baby and soften tenfold before flitting back up to James. “You don’t want me to hold her, do you?”

James shakes his head. “Nah, that’s okay. You need a rest, honey. I’d push you in the stroller if I could.”

You snort with laughter and James wants to marry you all over again.

“James,” you say, chiding.

“What?” James says, laughing. “I’m sure you can fit. We could make it work.”

You shake your head at him but you’re smiling, the same smile your daughter gives James when he makes her laugh. James laughs at his own joke and shakes with it, and it’s only when your face changes that he realises the baby is stirring.

“Oh! James, honey.” You stop walking and lean over his chest to get a hand around your baby’s back.

“Shh. Shh, baby,” you coo softly, dropping your voice to a sweet whisper. You duck your head so you can talk into her soft, short hair. “Daddy’s waking you up with his loud laughing, huh? … Go back to sleep, sweet girl … That’s it.”

James doesn’t even have the heart to be offended. Not when you’re standing so close, using your sweet mum voice and stroking up and down your baby’s back. It’s like magic, how quick she stops fussing and goes right back to snoozing. She snuggles her face into James’ chest, and if she was awake she’d hear how fast it was beating from infatuation.

“You’ve got magic hands,” he says, his eyes following you as you straighten up.

“I wish,” you say, but you’re smiling. “The only reason she’s asleep right now if ‘cos she’s on your chest.”

James grins wolfishly. He’s not even sorry to say he’s very proud of himself. “Just like her mum, hm?”

You huff and roll your eyes but don’t argue. You both know it’s more than true.

“You’re awful,” you say, beaming like you don’t mean it at all.

James falls back into step beside you and nudges your shoulder with his. “Yeah, I know,” he says.

[electronix-arts]

i have the urge to ramble so why not ramble about murder drones

i have many fears over episode 8, my biggest one being is that everyone is going to fucking die, and since im now considered the khan guy, why not talk about him (THIS IS SO LONG HOLY FUCKING SHIT)

ok so funnily enough, im prepared if he does drop dead in ep 8. people have teased me going “oh lol what if khan dies in ep 8” but little do you all know ive been prepared since ep 7 dropped, my wife has improved so much he’s bound to be sniped by liam. i’d be upset as hell and act like a wife who lost her husband at sea but i would not be too surprised if he is killed off

before it was confirmed ep 8 is the series finale, i was a s2 believer and i held onto hope that they wouldn’t kill khan because it’d make his character feel worthless. you see this man improve so much to be a better father to uzi and grow a pair to actually do something; to me, him dying would have made all of that useless, the hypothetical season 2 could have grown his character more if he lived, hell, maybe even show flashbacks of him during his ‘kill all humans’ phase. ep 7 shows khan has nowhere to go but up (or go insane, like the ep 8 teaser showed us)

but since season 2 is not real, i have to accept the fact that yeah, khan might die. so instead of being upset over that, why not speculate how he’ll fuckin die even though him being in the teaser looking batshit insane makes me think he’ll be a survivor. look at him. he will live off of pure adrenaline. anyways.

it’d 100% be a sacrifice, his apology for everything he’s done (which i fucking HATE i wanted him to grow more to become more redeemable to others not [death = hooray your sins are mostly forgiven] but i just gotta suck it up for now)

it’d definitely be for uzi or nori, make sense if he sacrificed himself for both of them [“Turns out, I’m not who either of you needed”] buuut i think it’d be more uzi focused. he was the one who raised her for the entirety of her life, actually tried to become better and changed his main focus to her and tried to help whenever he could after that, he would take a hypothetical bullet for her. it could even parallel to pilot when he left her for dead, now he’s the one dying and telling uzi to leave him so she can save herself and the others (it could even reference heartbeat where she thought he actually died, i don’t know how they’d do it, but yeah. i like that scene in heartbeat, i enjoy characters i love oh so much in severe pain.)

while i like this a lot, i would want khan to sacrifice himself for someone else more than his own wife and daughter. shocking, i know. i make my entire personality based off these idiots why wouldn’t i want a doorman family reuni-

n. if khan dies in ep 8, i want him to die sacrificing himself for n. i want n to be in horror at what has happened as khan is slowly dying in front of him, basically giving n his blessing to date uzi even though the entire planet is doomed.

it parallels nori’s disapproval of the relationship, shows that khan’s views on the dds (mainly n) have changed [killing machine -> bad influence on uzi -> someone who genuinely cares for her, someone who she needed] -and i guess nicely ties up the gift that is his redemption arc.

it makes sense for him to give said blessing, he’s seen how close uzi has gotten with n as well I’m pretty sure when he reunites with nori (plsplspls) after they calm down she’s definitely gonna be like “YOU LET OUR DAUGHTER “HANG OUT” WITH THE THINGS YOU SAW KILL ME” so that’d be fresh on his mind when he hypothetically drops dead.

also i’d feel like him sacrificing himself for uzi is like. too perfect or easily guessable, maybe they could hint “oh yeah khan’s def gonna die to save uzi & nori” when haha sike he’s dying to save the future son-in-law (if there is a future)

anyways that’s it. im bad at wrapping up things so here is what i call my conclusion. if you actually read this i love you so much you will be in my will