#predators will hunt me forever i can already tell

[patolemus]

Finally freed up some time and started reading Predators by @hedwig221b and while I knew beforehand that this would have me in a chokehold (which is why I put off reading it until I had the time to read it in one sitting) Jesus fucking Christ it’s been not even 500 words and I’m s c r e a m i n g.

‘“Sorry, sweetheart,”’ I’M SORRY, SWEETHEART??? ASKDNFFREORIFNSOKAANED

Anyways I’m very excited for this read!!

[lorelune]

(minors & ageless blogs dni. a piece for @ainescribe for helping me with my theme 💓 cw: predator/prey, hints of dubcon)

"i'll give you a head start."

jing yuan tells you this with a pleasant, easy smile and his hands behind his back. and no context. you cock your head at him from across the little table you share, and take a sip of your cold tea.

"come again, dear?" you knock your ankle against his under the table.

"i'm giving you a five minute head start." jing yuan leans closer and rests his chin his palm. his eyes take on a cat-like glint. "i've already started counting. i'd get going if i were you, sweetling."

you only want more of it.

your chest feels tight all of a sudden.

"jing yuan—"

"i won't be going easy on you." his smile verges on smug as he leans forward. "and i would advise to take full advantage of this time. i think you'll need it."

he leans away from you and tilts his head. it would be cute if you couldn't see the rapidly darkening mischief in his gaze. you jolt up from your little table, clattering your chair on the cobbled walkway. he eyes you up and down like a big cat sizing up its next meal as you step backwards, nearly stumbling.

something in your gut twists, like a hot iron.

you turn on a heel and walk as fast as you can without drawing too much attention to yourself. weaving around the late-night crowds and ducking around street vendors and their burning latterns, your heart pounds. faster and faster.

this had been your idea originally. you just hadn't expected jing yuan to entertain it (though on some level, he entertains all of your ideas.) this desire of yours seemed too risky, too innately... unlike him. at least to you.

this game had been a fantasy. one you'd confessed your interest in a few weeks prior, while luxuriating in a pleasantly steaming bath together. you shared a glass of wine, passed between sips after a slow, tender evening. you'd playfully started a conversation about things to try in the bedroom, and somehow, the Divine Foresight and honey wine managed to wring a few previously unspoken desires out of you.

this is the result, you suppose, as you stumble around a corner, toward jing yuan's estate.

you should've known that jing yuan would spring this fantasy on your unexpectedly. that was part of the allure. the hunt, the chase— you're just prey now, with no time to prepare or plan. the innate helplessness has already stirred something in you, even though jing yuan hasn't done anymore than send you hungry looks and promises.

you're sure five minutes have passed. you're positive that the man is trailing you, even if you can't hear or see him. you don't have the military prowess that he does, you're just a civilian. your footfalls are loud as you break into a run near his estate and its towering walls.

your hands shake as you hold your jade abacus to its lock. the slow 'clunk' of gears opening the gates feels like it goes on forever. your heart is pounding in your ears, like a drum that won't stop. you're out of breath, but force yourself to sprint the moment the door swings open.

you hide in one of his gardens.

jing yuan has many green spaces on his estate. it's situated on a large enough space to allow for a small stream running through the largest garden into the front yard. ponds gurgle nearby, filled with fat, sleepy fish. you wake them as you dash around the greenery and shrubs, uncaring of the dirt that is staining your shoes. the bottom of your outer most garment must be getting torn as it snags on the brush below.

the gate of the estate opens and closes once more, somewhere not far behind you. your heart lurches, your stomach feels cold and hollow and you run.

jing yuan knows his estate better than you, clearly. you don't know where is safe, but in his largest garden, there are large gingko trees and stones that seem okay to hide behind. maybe. you are too anxious, too out of your fucking mind, to use sound logic at this point. you scramble behind a smooth quartz boulder and lay a hand on your chest. panting. tears sting your the corners eyes as you desperately try to catch your breath.

you listen the best you can to see if you can hear him follow you. it's hard to pick up every little sound, breeze shakes the tree branchers into a late-evening song. cicadas chirp to disguise any potential footfalls. it would probably be best to hide somewhere on the edge of the garden. you're in the center of it, not far from the stream. you don't dare peak out from your hiding spot, but you should move— you feel so exposed—

a floorboard creaks nearby. you freeze.

the wind almost stills with the sound. you can't breathe as you strain to hear more. it came from the west, where you know there's an entrance to this garden. you think. probably. your heart pounds so loudly, you can barely hear anything over the roar.

you do another sound, though. the sound of a boot fall, onto stone. there's a path laid with them not far from where you are.

something white-hot, old and feral burst in your chest.

you need to fucking run.

with a burst of energy that makes you feel light-headed, you push off the ground and throw yourself over the rock you were hiding behind, away from the sounds that are surely jing yuan stalking you.

your feet hit the ground and you run. run, run, run—

you swear you can feel more footfalls than just your own, but you can't look behind you. all of your focus is on weaving through the gardens trees and shrubbery, to gain and sort of ground.

you stumble, eventually. it's inevitable that you lose. the game is set up that way.

you trip over your own feet as you near the little stream that cuts the garden and gurgles. your momentum ruins you; you can't right yourself fast enough.

a hand catches the back of your collar and pulls. your breath catches, caught in your throat by the pressure. an arm, his arm, bundle you up at the waist and slams your body into his. your back to his front. the force of it knocks the air out of you.

you still scramble, you can't help it. squirming and kicking, you fight against the unyielding grip he has on you. he's hot against your back, scalding even. the metal bits of his armor and belts dig into your as your struggle fruitlessly.

"what's this?" jing yuan says into your ear, soft and curling. "i thought you would do a little better than this."

you whine. your stomach feels cold.

jing yuan laughs then, rich and low like he always does. but there's a darker edge to it now. you can feel it spread down the back of your neck, your spine, drenching you down to your toes. he squeezes you, and you feel yourself get wet.

(you're fucked.)

"you'll have to try harder next time." jing yuan says. "maybe i did go a little easy on you."

"s-sure you did—"

jing yuan nips your ear. "what was that? i didn't realize prey animals were capable of speech."

you crane your neck, ready to snap at him, but you don't get the chance too.

in a single motion, jing yuan has you thrown over his shoulder. blood rushes too quickly to all of the places it shouldn't be. you feel dizzy with it and whine and sputter with it.

jing yuan doesn't yield, only laughs again, and gives your bottom a few firm (very firm) pats. you gulp.

(lucidly remembering the other details you revealed to jing yuan in the bath that night. all of the filthiest bits of your fantasies. jing yuan hardly had to ply you for them.)

and jing yuan is a strategist. you should have known he would use this new information advantageously against you in such a way.

as you enter his manor, heart still pounding, palms clammy, and feeling like a rabbit in the jaws of a lion, you feel foolish and turned on all once. jing yuan so easily catches you off guard when he chooses. he so easily undoes you, puts you in a place of his choosing and let's you fester there just enough that he can remedy it— either with sweetness or, as he now so adeptly showing you, with something an edge darker.

you gulp, light-headed.

[newwillinium]

Benny's Gambit: Why Yes-Man sucks as the face of a Independent Vegas Route

So this has been on my mind for a good good long while now. So around two years ago during yet another playthrough of Fallout New Vegas I decided to, for the first time since that first playthrough on the 360, go down the Independent Route instead of going NCR like I always had. And I found myself greatly disappointed with what I found. So for those somehow unaware, the independent route of New Vegas begins when you off Benny in the Tops or in Caesar's Tent/Arena, and encounter a Securitron by the name of Yes-Man in Benny's closet at the Tops. There you learn that the reason behind your execution, the hunt for the Platinum Chip, was all for a way to take control of House's Securitron army. Something House himself will tell you when you first meet him shortly before or after entering the Tops. But there's another way to learn about it. . .from Benny himself. Where Benny offers to make you his agent, a mercenary, to help take New Vegas to new heights free from the autocracy of House and the predations of the NCR and Legion. A true independent Vegas where the Chairman direct the show and the others follow. Which isn't terrible, as it would solve one of the major issues with New Vegas as a whole and the Independent Route in particular. So before I get into that let me lay down the Yes-Man quote that had me infuriated with the Independent Route and what it ultimately represents. > So I should ask these tribes if they'll support an Independent Vegas? > " Oh no, I didn't mean that! Who needs their support? The Securitrons will be all the support you need! What I meant is, you should get to know these tribes and decide which ones you like and which you don't! You know - shape the future of Vegas! Choose your neighbors! If you like a tribe, leave it alone! Or if a tribe is nasty, or going to be a problem - go ahead and exterminate it! It's whatever you want to do!" The Yes-Man Independent Route isn't a route for a Independent Vegas, where you convince the tribes and settlements to back you and your move against both the colonizing NCR and also the autocratic House and Caesar, but instead if it is a power-fantasy. YOU get to decide who lives or dies in the coming Vegas, YOU get to make all the decisions for Vegas. It's not a independent route, you are a single man making a decision for thousands with no authority invested into you other then what you stole from other figures who WERE respected and accepted by their wider communities. But imagine a New Vegas where, you initially COULD take Benny up on his offer. > You'll get a sweet, juicy cut of that action. But until that day comes, I'll keep you on retainer, and pay bonuses for "special missions You go to the Families and convince them to help Benny overthrow House and keep their independence from any of the "finks" encroaching on their borders. You make a truce with the Khans by giving them free range over Western Vegas so long as they keep the roads safe. Make out a deal with the Brotherhood to repair the Securitrons in exchange for driving out the Van Graffs (with you possibly agreeing with the Brotherhood to discard of the Securitrons later with their help), and convince the Boomers to help through the vanilla quests. Convince Freeside, North Vegas, Westside and the Thorn, Jacobstown, to join with you. Have Benny only turn on you *towards the end* of the Yes-Man/Independent Route, that way when you take the reins from him the plot is already moving, the people of the Mojave ALREADY support what you are doing, and you can go forward from there. Where everyone supports you rather then just thinking that they are helping either the NCR or Legion only to be blindsided by you coming in INCLUDING your allies. There actually w

+as a really fantastic mod on the Nexus that fixed the majority of my issues too, but sadly the mod author deleted their account not too long ago so that mod is forever lost to the wider internet. TLDR: Half my post got deleted so I'm rushing this along now before work, Yes-Man's Route sucks as a power fantasy because it IS just a power fantasy, Benny should have been the leader of the Independent Route, Have him turn on you later, still get Yes-Man as a personality, this way every settlement and tribe in the Mojave actually MATTER in regards to the Yes-Man route too.

[katyspersonal]

On your Nanaya post, yeah, most of the people who say she's sinister or evil are on Twitter, usually people who share assets in game and speculate on lore. To them, literally everything Midra does is somehow because Nanaya is manipulating him to do it. Implications that he is studying the finger ruins? It's on her behalf, even though Midra is a sage. Sages are wise men who often dedicate themselves to the study of divinity and philosophy. It is very possible he created the three fingers, or encountered the three fingers and got himself into the situation he is in, while Nanaya was simply his wife who asked him to endure, possibly for her own selfish reasons. Selfish how? Well, once you become the Lord of Frenzied Flame, you are essentially dead and loose everything of yourself. If Midra fell to the flame, she would loose the man she loved forever. So she begged him to endure so she would not loose him. But no. She's clearly manipulating him or seducing him for nefarious reasons. There is no way she could just love him. They ignore so many context clues and just simple reasoning, such as how if she was a maiden to the frenzied flame, she would have been executed along with everyone else, but her death seems to be shockingly peaceful, slumped in a chair and visibly older looking that she is in her painting.

Anyway can you tell that it annoys me XD? i take some comfort knowing that Midra too would be annoyed if he could some how know people thought so little of her.

Heyyyyy Hello! (The post in question is this ( x ) ask reply) I also have a strong preference for Nanaya being a loving wife and just a reasonable person! Both might have studied the Fingers, or just Midra, and all these people in the Manse have a VERY strong vibe of "having messed with the knowledge not meant for humans"! +For the people who doesn't know what we're talking about, there are traces of stone Fingers like in the ruins all over the Manse under these rugs:

(From this ( x ) post on Reddit, thank you so much dataminers)

Even that aside, the burnt masses of books and records contained the knowledge about the Frenzied Flame now:

I think studying the Finger Ruins suggested they already had a hunch on the Metyr's edgy kid known as Three Fingers and perhaps thought it was a good idea! After all, Frenzied Flame promises freedom from all suffering, all sins and all afflictions. Midra and his associates have been suffering by being hunted by Hornsent Inquisitors as "heretics", and I think those circumstances predated the discovery of FF! (the ghost asks what DID Midra do wrong which would not be the case if they knew why; flowers on the painting of 'healthy' Midra Manse are the same as in Shaman's Village)

So, them seeking the power that supposedly would've brought world's peace and end their suffering particularly too is just... it sooo writes itself fdhfhsd I can't really accuse people that think Nanaya was the one to push him for that idea from the start or anything of course. I just feel like the implication that she went blind and then died cradling someone who fell victim of Frenzied Flame (was stillborn like this, tried to become a Lord but burnt too fast, whatever it is) supposed to show grief and tragedy! Especially with them choosing to draw her with a hand on her stomach:

I can't really tell people "don't have evil scheming woman because her spiralling from loss works better" XD But as for me asking 'hey why developers chose to pit this detail?' is very helpful for the ideas that work naturally! I've just lost my courage after 'Miquella bewitched Mohg' take became canon let me be sdfhfhsdsd.

I think either she knew Lord of Frenzied Flame was a bad idea and Midra did a lot of acting behind her back, they both willingly pursued this knowledge but it only became clear when they've faced the dire consequences (like losing their son for example), or a bit of both like her having been trying to ground him peacefully but him always doing the "don't worry dear I got it". (He did NOT "get it" fsdhdshf) She still needed to know what was going on in her own mansion to some capacity, but simply telling him 'Endure' when Inquisitors stabbed him has some coldness to it, and she still has her head, unlike these guys:

Why not suggest that she did love him, but maybe of course she was pretty darn cold if his recklessness cost them their child? Not to mention the stakes of infecting the WHOLE world with Frenzied Flame! It is fair to love someone but get mad at them when something so drastic happens! And Midra himself understood it was all a bad idea because he screams at us to not come any closer for our own sake and expresses remorse before Nanaya when he gives up! If anyone knew when it was the time to declare the pursuit too dangerous and turn back it had to be Nanaya, but he didn't listen and that mistake was unforgiveable. Yes, she failed to be Tanith in this situation hdhfdsh But this is the point: different reactions from different characters!

I did notice this trend in general, that the side of the fandom that mines models and code tends to lack the feelings in their interpretations. Of course I love and respect logical approach and fumbling with the exact details as an autist! But Fromsoft's stories are not just about it. They're also about feels.. the tragedy. Love that ended because of tragic events as well as messing with the knowledge humans should not touch are some things they add everywhere! Both looking for the 'vibe' and focusing solely on 'details' are slippery slopes with Soulsborne lore. You need both "read air" and apply logic to come up with the most compelling takes. Because Soulsborne games are not JUST subtextes that some toxic person can swing around on "media literacy" flex, nor they are JUST fine details that should be taken in the worst "can't see the forest behind the trees" fashion. haha.... forest... fdhsd ANYWAYS, they're both!

..yeah so, I have strong opinions too! Midra not willing to take the slender of his beloved wife is a surprisingly comforting idea XD

[vorish-wonderland]

You're a rare tiny species of mermaid, separated from your family in an unfamiliar environment. You're found by a curious moray, who offers to bring you somewhere nice and safe... something tells you this can't end well.

Includes: soft/safe vore, fearplay, unwilling prey, mentions of digestion

★✦A Narrow Escape✦★

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

The sea is a harsh environment.

Its waters are cold and unforgiving, especially to someone as small as you.

You were a mermaid the size of a shrimp, a very unfortunate size to be in this horrible world. A world that was kill or be killed, eat or be eaten.

You wish you were bigger. A size that would at least allow you to fight back against those who wanted to kill you.

You had gotten lost.

You might as well already be dead.

If not now, then you will be soon.

You're in unfamiliar waters, separated from your family, cold and alone.

You must be somewhere north... it's very cold...

So cold...

So cold.

"Huuuuuuuh...? What's this~?" A carefree voice asked. "An itty-bitty mermaid all alone~?"

You turned around to the direction of the voice, only to see a shadowy figure swimming away. You tried to follow it to see what this thing was, but it was just too fast for you. It swam in circles around you.

"You're so small... aren't you scaaaaared out here all alone...?" The voice asked. "Someone as small as you could be gobbled up at any second~ Aren't you nervous?"

You knew exactly what that was implying.

You aren't making it out of this alive.

"You're the size of a shrimp, hehe! In that case, why don't I call you Shrimpy?" The voice laughed to itself about the 'endearing' nickname it had given you.

The shadow finally stopped swimming in circles around you, allowing you to get a better look at him, and vice-versa.

"Oh that's strange..." He said. "Your kind isn't usually seen this far up north, what could you be doing here, Shrimpy?"

He's right. You live in the South of the Coral Sea, so someone like you was a rare sight around... wherever you are now.

"Hey, Shrimpy, you must be cold, aaaaaaren't you~?" He asked, in a sweet-ish voice. "I can bring you somewhere nice and warm and safe... doesn't that sound nice?"

Alarm bells began going off in your head.

"Aha, I'm right! You're shivering your tiny little arms off! C'mon, don't you wanna warm up~?"

The unfamiliar cold waters were too much for you... but you'd honestly prefer freezing to death to being eaten alive.

"Follow me, little Shrimpy~"

He grabbed your entire body with his hand alone, swimming off somewhere and dragging you along with him.

The easily 12-foot-long merman dragged you along with him for what felt like forever.

"We're here, Shrimpy~"

You could've sworn it felt even colder here.

"Heeeeeey Shrimpy... you're so small in my hands... if I squeezed ya, I bet you'd pop!" He told you, licking his lips. "Your blood would be everywhere... I bet your blood tastes delicious! But you know what...? Could I just...?"

He brought you closer to his face. He uncurled his fingers, allowing you a chance to escape, but before you took that chance, he licked you, tasting every part of your body from your tail to the top of your head.

...you really are going to die here. There's no doubt about it now.

The warmth you had temporarily experienced was replaced with a freezing cold as he savoured your taste in his mouth.

"Mmmmm~ Ehehe, you even taste like a shrimp, Shrimpy." He told you.

Now's your only chance of escaping. Even if you don't, it's better to die knowing you tried to escape rather than lying still and accepting your fate.

You tried to swim away.

"Oh. Tryna run? Well, part of the satisfaction is from the thrill of the hunt... so go ahead and swim away, Shrimpy, I'll give you a head start, even!"

He smirked.

"Not that it'll do ya any good~"

You swam as fast as you could, trying your hardest to escape this... predator.

This ravenous, carnivorous eel... can you even escape him? No, you can't, there's no way!

It's hopeless, but you have to keep going.

Otherwise you'll be-!

"Boo!"

You were grabbed tightly.

"Ehehe! Did you really think you could get away?" He laughed to himself. "I'm feeling nice, so I'll give you a tip for next time- well... not like there's gonna be a next time for ya. Aaaaaaanyways, morays like me tend to hide and ambush prey, so you're better off staying away from the reefs... but you'd be exposing yourself to a ton of predators, so you're kinda screwed either way, Shrimpy~"

You were completely frozen from fear. Every little cell in your body was telling you to try and escape.

"You ready~? Three, two, one, and!"

He stuffed you into his mouth.

He savoured your taste for as long as he could, he loved every second of it. The way you pounded your tiny fists against his teeth, like that would do anything...

It felt amazing, he'd play with you forever if he could, but...

"PLEASE DON'T! L-LET ME OUT, PLEASE, I'LL DO ANYTHING-!" You screamed, before...

Something sharp clamped onto your tail.

You're being dragged backwards. Deeper. Down into his throat.

It didn't matter how much you screamed, cried, pleaded, begged, he didn't care.

And then you were swallowed. The second jaws let go of your tail as you were sent downward, downward, downward...

Towards your final destination.

Floyd coiled himself around a rock, enjoying the feeling of a full belly and having a live tiny mermaid inside of him...

Now to just relax and digest for a bit...

Then he screamed out in pain as, from inside him, you bit the wall of his stomach as hard as you could.

"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?!" He yelled.

"G-GET ME OUT!!" You sobbed.

"Aww, what's wrong, Shrimpy~?" He mockingly asked. "Sure, it'll hurt, it'll REALLY fucking hurt, but... after a while, you won't feel anything!"

He pressed his stomach against the rock he was coiled around, and you responded by once again biting him.

"Would you stop that?!" He yelled.

You kept biting, since that was clearly working.

"I SAID STOP!" He yelled, before punching himself in the gut.

It hurt, but you kept biting him.

"UGGGHHH, YOU'RE SO ANNOYING!" He yelled, angrily. "FINE. I'll let you out. It's not worth all this pain....."

Wait...

Wait, that worked?!

You're going to live!

"I really thought someone like you woulda just accepted their fate. Guess not." He sighed. "I'll go find something else to eat..."

You were so thankful to be let out into the water once more.

"You go on, swim away. But if I come across you again, you won't be so lucky."

And then, the eel swam away.

...

You really survived that...!

[major-toast]

7 Words // cw: blood, murder // minors dni

This one is for my beloved @panchashire

I know it's not the streamer AU, but I hope it's worth your precious time regardless <3

Hunting - it's an ancient thrill. Without it our ancestors would have starved, our civilisations sentenced to fail. Humans are predators, after all; vile and cruel. Hunting - it is the foundation of our very being. Why keep to a life of rules and manners, if it so against our nature? Why not embrace the killers we are built to be?

Barty believes playing by the rules of righteousness and good-natured morality is part of society's decline. It is boring, bleak. He? He is born to hunt.

And - fuck - is he good at it.

Laughing, he crashes into the corner of the hallway, his broken arm throbbing in pain at the impact. Still, he laughs. What is a little pain if the outcome is so rewarding?

"You cannot escape from me forever, Alice", he mocks, following it with another manical giggle. "I'll get you sooner rather than later!"

Alice doesn't even turn around, stumbling along the hallway as fast as her feet can carry her. Of course, it's not enough. It will never be. No matter how fast they run, Barty is always faster.

They always try so hard.

Adorable, really.

In a frantic attempt to ward him off, to bring distance between them as Barty slowly walks after her, the knife held firmly in hand, she pushes over a small side table. Clinking and crashing, the vase on top falls to the ground, the shards falling all over the carpeted floor. Casually, Barty steps over them, taking all the time in the world.

"Oh, thank god!" Alice exclaims in shrill panic, falling into Evan's arms, who just appeared at one of the doors. Raising his brows in surprise, he wraps his arms around her small and shivering figure, the blood on her hands leaving pretty stains on his clothes.

"What's wrong, Al?" he asks calmly.

"He's- he's trying to kill me! Evan! Evan- He already killed Frank! Please, you have to help me! Please..."

Barty smiles, twirling the knife in his hand before wiping some of the sweat off his forehead with this same wrist. It ends with even more blood smeared all over his face. Can't she see she just walked right into a trap?

"He's not going to help you", Barty coos. "You're lost, Alice. You hear me? Lost as all of you petty souls have been."

"Evan, please", Alice begs, tears streaming down her face as she tugs at his hoodie. "He's insane..."

Evan, whose eyes had been on Barty the entire time, finally looks down on her. Suddenly, the bored expression receives a devious glint.

"Who tells you I am not?" he simply remarks, his lips twisting into a cruel smile.

"W-what?"

Before Alice knows what's happening to her, Evan slides out a knife of his own. Wrapping the arm now around her neck, he turns her around, holding her in a tight headlock. Barty grins devilishly as her widened eyes meet his own.

"Rosie is not as innocent as he might look", he comments, stepping closer and closer. "But the innocence makes for a good alibi, I have to give him that."

"Shut up, Crouch. You had your fun."

Fair enough, Barty thinks.

Huffing, he takes a small bow. "After you, Mr Rosier."

Rolling his eyes - if a little fondly - Evan raises the knife to Alice's throat. He doesn't blink once as the smooth metal glides through skin and flesh. Doesn't even wince. Whenever Evan kills, he does so with no empathy, no remorse. Barty believes it's the hottest thing to ever witness.

With the gurgling sound of someone choking on their own blood, life leaves the delicate frame that once has been Alice Longbottom. Barty watches pleased as the light dims inside her eyes, how the blood stains the floor and the gorgeous dark tone of Evan's skin. Licking his lips, he cannot wait to taste the blood now clinging to it.

As the body slumps to the ground, Barty slams into him.

Breathing heavily and crazed with desire, he presses Evan into the door long closed. Evan doesn't hesitate to tear into his clothes.

"Ever made out on top of a corpse, angel?" Barty pants into his mouth, biting his lower lips and tasting his tongue and teeth over and over again.

Evan smiles into it, gripping the back of his head.

"Something tells me I am about to find out"

[wiickedparaphilia]

PLOTS I WANT IN VAGUE, POORLY DEFINED CATEGORIES - if you somehow stumbled upon this, be aware that this post contains a SIGNIFICANT amount of untagged triggers. if you didn't already know that, chances are this post isn't for you.

SCI-FI

ANDROIDS

androids are objects owned by people - fuck them, torture them, make them do whatever you want, do it all in public, society doesn't care

post-DBH style world where androids are generally respected by society and treated as people...except fucked up people still exist so they get kidnapped or you can buy them at underground markets

an android given as a gift between business partners or criminals and used accordingly

married couple where one gives the other an android to take their aggressive or 'questionable' fetishes out on

using an android to replace someone that left, died or they can't have (ie. parent with an android of their offspring, someone w/ an android of their friend's wife, etc)

androids that won't die as long as you keep replacing and repairing certain parts and fucked up ppl taking advantage of that to do things a human could never survive

ALIENS/SPACE

breeding. duh. consensual or otherwise.

oviposition! thank u v much! stuff those humans full of eggs, that's what they're good for

bonus points for anything with usual body parts - double dicks, tentacles, etc

sex! pollen! it's not specifically scifi, but makes me think of alien planets. getting contaminated (or poisoned) and just being absolutely insatiable and desperate - great for breaking minds

medical fetish in general is a delight, but even more so with aliens! let them test and experiment and see exactly what makes the humans squirm and whine and moan

also just general abduction/kidnapping - a million light years from home, no chance of going back after being made into an alien's pet

SUPERNATURAL

WEREWOLVES

knots! everything about knots and knotting!! force it in if it doesn't fit!!

speaking of knots: lying to the human like 'oh no i'll pull out' and then jk surprise, the knot is in and it's not coming out until they're bred

primal shit! prey/predator! hunt them down in the woods, breed them - oops, got a little rough there. well, there's always more pussy in the forest

use a human as a breeding toy for the whole pack, fuck them until they're so mind broken they're begging to be used and then mark your territory just to seal the deal

A/B/O

omegas are common while alphas are rare. could go more harem style OR more free use style where alphas are allowed to fuck any omega they find

uno reverse - omegas are rare while alphas are more common: ppl kidnapping omegas just to have one to breed, parents breeding their own offspring, underground omega trafficking rings

omega goes into heat in public - this could be like 45 diff plots: bred by a best friend or a family member OR gang fucked (consensually or otherwise) in a bar or alleyway OR just being pathetic and humiliated in public

VAMPIRES

vampires are inherently horny, argue with the wall

bloodbag? literally keeping a human just to feed on them. could involve fucking, could just be straight up feeding

vampire spawn insanity, esp with lore where the spawn can't refuse anything the full vampire tells them to do?? the potential for horrors is immaculate

OTHER CREATURES

centaurs. need i say more?

shapeshifters!! either they can turn into anything they want and use that power to fuck someone OR owning a shapeshifter and forcing them to be or look like whatever or whoever you want

tentacles. any sort, any size, with eggs or not

DEMONS/ANGELS

corrupt an angel, show them how good sin is and completely ruin them. fuck them so hard and torture them so much that they revoke god and become fallen as they cum

summon a demon and it goes wrong and the demon steals them away to hell to fuck forever (or torture. or both)

human! sacrifice!

demon torturing an angel. angel torturing a demon?? pls and thank u

MEDIEVAL

right of the king - let him fuck anyone he wants, however he wants, whenever he wants

sibling (or rival) of the ruler fucks the ruler's heir to get back at them (bonus points for knocking them up or being particularly rough)

fucking the disgraced rulers of a defeated kingdom - fuck them in public, put them in chains and torture them, castrate the king and put the queen in the kennels and use the prince/princess as a cockwarmer on the throne

arranged marriages: give the sweet innocent princess to an awful lord to gain money, etc, etc

CRIME

spies pls - spies being caught and fucked and tortured, spies using different methods to get information out of people

kidnapping duh, but especially with stockholm syndrome or general mind breaking to make a good pet/slave

CULT/RELIGION

literal cock/ball worship

a dom making themselves their sub's literal god, full worship and devotion

a priest using god to manipulate a parishioner so they can use them right there in the church

a priest/priestess being used by the worshippers as a sign of devotion

human sacrifice again duh

a cult devoted to masochism, members used and abused and treating it like a holy rite

MEDICAL

TBD

OTHER

BG*3 INSPIRED

anything to do w/ ascended a*starion thank you v much - being insanely controlling, using his powers to control and use in every single way

anything c*azador/a*starion, especially putting on the ritual scars and generally using and abusing him

ori*n,,,,pls love that stabby lil freak

also e*nver go*rtash my not so young handsome man, he would do any and everything

mind control duh

MINDFLAYERS DUH

all the companions are hot and should be banged or get to bang immediately

gale?? tie him up, make him beg and whine and then fuck him until he forgets m*ystra

m*inthara would do terrible, terrible things to someone and she should. let her torture a man bc they're beneath her, thank u v much dro*w culture

druids!! vines!! shapeshifting!! fuck an owlbea*r!! orgy at the grove!!

more about the fuckin loviata*r priest thank u

this is so specific but let! ket*heric! fuck! isobel's! dead! body! (alternatively or ALSO let aylin do it)

anything w/ kar*niss pls gimme that spider man

durge!! in any form but esp dragonborn

[opinated-user]

first of all, grooming isn't a thing internet people do to the audience. it's a thing pedos do to kids they interact with irl. secondly, lily was very clearly joking about meeting with a fan and it's gross to take it as if it were serious. thirdly, lily isn't doing anything weird. there's an old dude to stares at my boobs even though i'm nearly flat and gets a boner to it in the library. boys at my school joke about raping girls and each other. the school bus driver thinks i have a nice ass. the difference is that no matter what i want, i CAN'T get away from them. if i want to get away from lily or i don't like what she's doing, i can just exit the tab. groomers don't make sure you have ready access to a door to escape from them at all times. groomers also don't act as normal as lily does privately. i talked to her after i made fanart for her and she was nice, complimented me, asked for some help navigating a fanart site, thanked me and moved on. there was nothing remotely sexual about any part of that interaction. if that's grooming then everyone i've ever talked to in fandom is grooming everyone. if that's grooming then every youtuber or twitch streamer with a discord server is trying to groom their whole audiences.

she's not creepy. she's just some woman on the internet. if you don't like her sexual expression or jokes, just don't interact with her stuff. she isn't some predator hunting you down to force you to see her do stuff. this is ridiculous.

anon, first... i'm so, so sorry any of that happened to you. i'm so sorry that no adult on your life step up to tell you none of that is okay or to tell those classmates to stop. it must be horrible feel that threatened by people you're supposed to trust, that you have to see everyday. you deserve so much better than being surrounded by a environment like that and i hope you know that. but i have to insist: LO's not the kind of adult that will keep you safe and sound. she'll put you in danger. she might not be as obvious as that creepy library guy or talk openly about it like your classmates, but that doesn't mean she's a better option. she already did harm you by allowing minors like yourself to think it was okay and normal for an adult to "joke" like that on a public space where they could be present. groomers will make sure to appear as your friends, as the only adults you can actually trust, and make you feel as if they understand you, that everything they do and say must be okay because they were nice before so they couldn't do anything bad later. they don't start off being acreepy and demanding nudes right from the start, they wouldn't get any results that way. normalize that kind of behaviour for a minor to start finding nothing wrong about it is grooming. create that emotional connection and safeguard so you'll come out to defend her, ignore all red flags, ignore all warnings from others and justify everything... that is grooming. i'm so sorry but it is. she's not your friend, she doesn't care about you and never will. no DM is ever going to change that. i know plenty of women online and none of them behaves like LO. the ones that do, they end up being dennounced by a victim or many victims that will forever carry with that trauma with them, destroying any piece of trust you had on them. those women are dangerous and disgusting, and they don't deserve a platform just like LO doesn't either. i don't know how else to help you, anon. but i hope you stick around and see more things by yourself, because only seeing her side is the last thing you should do.

[howlingday]

First off, I LIKE THESE IDEAS. You're hitting marks that I hadn't even considered before! I kinda stopped thinking about the impact the deaths had on the world at large and moreso thought about how Jaune would recover from watching seven people die right in front of him.

EVENTS:

CRDL is in fact dead. Jaune is the ONLY survivor. Kinda cuts out the bully arc, now that I think about it, but I think we can make it work.

Also, Beacon gaining a bad reputation is a potential side-effect, but I can also imagine calling into question what's being taught at prior schools if students of such high praise as Pyrrha Nikos and Weiss Schnee are dying at initiation, then are the prior schools too easy or is Beacon too difficult?

The White Fang speeding up their involvement is also something I need to consider more, since they played such a major role for not only Blake's character, but also the story as well, what with their involvement with the Vale criminal underworld. I'm also imagining Adam trying to gaslight Ghira into rejoining to avenge Blake, and it's a dumb idea but I can't help but find it amusing.

Ironwood scolding Ozpin is something I can see, but I think it could also be a moment of him asking Ozpin if he's okay with there being only one student in an entire school-year. And I can imagine Oz telling Ironwood that he has no blame on the students or their preparations, and is thinking about what the media are saying about him. Ironwood then tells Ozpin about a project that he's had an eye on.

CHARACTERS:

So a thought I had was Jaune basically doing classes the same as first year, but it's more like sort of errands until he's deemed mentally well enough to take more serious classes, considering his first week was no sleep and a breakdown in class. Errands like gathering sap from the Forever Fall and the like.

I don't think I'll have Jaune on a team just yet. He's still going through it, but it could be a good therapy session for him. Also, Penny is definitely something I have planned, but Sun, though, is probably already with his own team, SSSN. I do see them making an appearance at a later point.

Yeah, I can't see Oscar wanting anything to do with Huntsmen without Ozpin basically dragging him into it. Other future characters I could see would be Saphron, Adrian, and Terra, but nothing really solid comes to mind.

Ooh, I do like the idea that Jaune gets this fame/infamy as the only survivor, and he just wants to be left alone. But, of course, the press are a bunch of view-hunting predators, so I can see them using some underhanded tactics to get an interview with him. Something like paying a student to lead Jaune into the studio for a (in)formal interview.

PSYCHOLOGICALLY:

So, real talk, psychologically is where I am most terrified to write Jaune for this because the LAST THING I want is to reinforce a stereotype about people struggling with conditions like PTSD. Absolutely no part of me wants to fuck up and get as bad of a backlash as Death Battle did with Red Hood VS Winter Soldier.

Winter was someone I'd considered as a response for Weiss, but not as much as how... somewhat indifferent Jacques would be. Like, yeah, he's sad, but would he really do anything in response to Weiss' death? Maybe like a lawsuit.

Taiyang I see as just going into a DEEEEP depression because, like you just said, his first wife literally left him, his second wife died, and now the only family he had left are now gone, too. Like, this is the kind of stuff like what happened during Volume 8.

Damn, I hadn't considered Ruby's silver eyes. And you're right, she is the only person left that anyone knows of to have silver eyes. And she just died. Have the silver eyed warriors truly gone extinct? And that's not to detract from the other students who died under his protection. Ozpin might be pretty quiet for some time on this subject.

I did have an idea where Jaune breaks down in front of his parents, or even being too terrified to talk to them because he's so terrified of what their reactions would be. Anger? Pity? He'd just lived through a tragedy and the first words out of their mouths would probably be "we told you so". No. No, Jaune can't go home. Not when he just got here. Not when everyone is looking at him and expecting him to do something. But what?

Also Penny is definitely coming so just hold onto your butts for that.

Last Survivor Au

Well, I came here to comment on more headcanons about the ''sole survivor'' au and that I can help @howlingday with the plot or ideas, I hope you like it guys. I'm going to start with history and events for characters and to finish psychologically, so look at the sky and welcome to this infinite tsukuyomi

History and Events:

Well for the death of the rwby and (j)npr teams and I believe that cardin's team died, that would count as 11 deaths in something that was just to present the school and test the qualities of the students. With this death count, Beacon and Ozpin would gain a bad reputation from other kingdoms and give themselves to the people of Vale, thereby potentially accelerating certain events that take place in volumes 1 to 3.

With Blake's death in this universe, many events that happen with White Fang that are explored in this volume and in the 4th would be faster, but in a bad sense, with Blake's death, Adam could use her as an example to gain more trust between the faunus.

Ironwood looking at this death count could end up giving Ozpin a slight scolding but it would help him with more protection in the kingdom and speeding up the introduction of penny. Coming back in the white fang trope because of this the introduction of sun would also be faster than in canon.

Characters:

Jaune would probably take practical classes or be forced to spend some time because of his psychology. Maybe he would gain a slight fame among the other students but nothing exaggerated, It's maybe because of the events I mentioned ozpin could try to form a team between Jaune Sun and Penny, Probably at first Jaune might think it's a bad idea but I'll do that leave it with @howlingday .

Characters that appear in future volumes like Oscar I can only see them in the future, because following the canon Oscar wouldn't have a reason to enter Beancon other than Ozpin, but maybe we can change that in this universe like Ozpin launching more opportunities for kingdoms for people who want to be hunters to join beacon.

I commented about Jaune gaining fame, He would have a fan of being the only survivor but it would be something like a curse, Everywhere he goes people recognize him as the only survivor, Newspapers try to interview him to discuss more about the case of the 11 deaths but he always refuses

Psychologically:

We know that Jaune is one of the characters with a bad psychology but there are two characters who butt heads, Winter and Tai. Winter being the older sister who believed that her younger sister was strong for the world to respond with the news of her death, Tai is a former hunter who lost his wife and was abandoned by another, having to take care of his daughters alone with his teammate, He trusted that the two were strong and then heard the tragic news of their death,

Ozpin gained another weight on his back because in his vision because of his trust and irresponsibility he caused the death of potential hunters and one of the people who contained a power that could help in his greatest objective, And perhaps he killed one of the last people who had silver eyes.

Jaune after the incident would get a call from his family and they would talk and probably in free time Jaune would travel to visit them to help with his psychological issue, And I believe that Penny and Sun could be a company that would help Jaune to improve.

[babyboibucky]

Project V: Wherever This Brings Us

Pairing: College!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: You confront Bucky about his date at the museum.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Slight violence (nothing serious), unprotected p in v penetration without foreplay, more feelings, an angry Steve lol

A/N: I literally rescheduled a work call at a much later time to post this LMFAO

Project V Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

You couldn’t understand the emotion that was bubbling up inside of you as you headed to the museum. It was such a familiar yet new feeling that you honestly didn’t want to pay attention to. It was such a bad emotion and it’s been a long time since you felt it that it was making your bile rise up to your throat.

Hell no, you weren’t going to vomit.

Not especially in front of Bucky and this girl he took out on a date. Without your knowledge. He didn’t even ask for your permission, didn’t say anything vague to give you a clue about it. Nada. Nothing. Bucky gave you nothing.

“Excuse me, miss. You need a ticket to get in.” the security stopped you as soon as you stomped into the entrance.

“Oh, I’ll be in and out, I swear. You wouldn’t even notice.” you said with a chuckle and tried to walk away until the security grabbed your arm.

“We can’t let you in. No ticket, no entrance.” he said, tipping his head towards a sign which said the exact same words.

“Goddammit, how much is the ticket and where can I buy it?” you huffed out.

“The booth is over there.” he said, pointing at the counter at the side of the entrance, where the line was fucking long for the first time in forever.

You cursed to yourself as you marched towards the line, finding the end of it but to no avail. Approaching a group of students in line, you questioned why there were so many people lining up when the museum was never this busy even on weekends.

“There’s a special exhibit for Star Wars at the science section. Today’s the last day.” the student said.

Of fucking course! It’s the only reason why Bucky took this girl to the museum, to see the Star Wars exhibit and since you were out on a date with Pietro, he decided to find someone else to drag along.

It had to be that because if Bucky gave you a different reason for going on Bumble, you were most definitely going to kick his balls. Just the thought of Bucky flirting with someone made your blood boil, and so you could no longer wait and headed towards the front of the line and squeezed in before the next person could even approach the counter.

“Hey, you’re not allowed to cut the line!” the girl behind you complained.

“And do I look like I fucking care?” you snapped, “I’m already so fucking pissed off so do me a favor and stop bitching!” you added before demanding the lady at the counter to give you a ticket.

She was about to say something but you merely lifted an eyebrow at her and that was enough to shut her up. The lady quickly gave you your ticket and you made sure to wave it right in front of the security’s face when you walked inside.

And so your hunt began.

Like a predator in search of its prey, you quickly went around the museum and scanned every person that passed you by. It wasn’t until ten minutes into your hunt that you noticed a familiar brunette walking around the prehistoric area with a brown-haired girl next to him.

You walked slowly towards them, keeping your eye on Bucky and observing his gestures. He was throwing his head back as he laughed, scrunching his nose and running his fingers through his hair before licking his lips— he was most definitely flirting.

Taking a deep breath in, you shook your arms and stretched your neck before approaching them. You kept on telling yourself to stay reserved when you start confronting them, to act like you were there just to check in on Bucky and his date.

“These are so amazing!” The girl exclaimed, looking over at the t-rex fossil display. “I’m still amazed at the creativity of whoever thought about dinosaurs.” She added and you couldn’t hold back from making your presence known.

“Oh my god, your date is pretty.” You said.

Bucky turned and the moment he saw you, his eyes widened and almost popped out of their sockets. The girl looked at you with confusion and then glanced at Bucky.

“Thanks, um, do you know him?” The girl asked and you snorted.

“Don’t thank me, I meant to say you were pretty dumb.” You bluntly said before making a face at Bucky.

“Really? A girl who doesn’t know that dinosaurs are real?” You asked.

The girl gasped, “Excuse me?”

You rolled your eyes at her, “I hate to break it to you but dinosaurs aren’t exactly an invention. They actually existed.” You said before turning to Bucky again, “What the fuck are you doing, Bucky?” You asked.

The girl grunted, “Bucky, what’s going on? Who is she?” She asked, holding onto Bucky’s arm.

You grinned at Bucky, “Go on, tell her.” You said before an idea hatched, “Or better yet, why don’t you show her your home screen wallpaper.”

Bucky smiled nervously, forcing out a dry laugh, “What do you mean?”

The girl was obviously confused and kept on asking who you were. “Like I said, show her your wallpaper and that’ll answer her question.”

Bucky swallowed hard and was unable to speak up. He quickly showed his date his lockscreen, a photo of Sailor Moon.

“I don’t get it.” His date said.

“I said home screen, Bucky. Not lockscreen.” You told him through gritted teeth, “Show. Her.”

Bucky exhaled and shook his head, “Nope.”

“James.”

“Who’s James?” The girl asked.

“Shut up. I’m not talking to you.” You said, keeping your glare at Bucky who started sweating.

“James Buchanan Barnes.” You warned but Bucky obviously didn’t want to do it.

So you snatched his phone out from his hand and showed his wallpaper to his date, almost shoving his phone right onto her face.

“Those are my tits! Bucky and I fuck almost on a daily basis!” You exclaimed out loud, ignoring the strange looks from people around.

Bucky clamped a hand over your mouth shushing you, “She’s fucking around!” He told his date.

“Then whose boobs were those?!” She asked gruffly.

Bucky struggled to shut you up, pressing his palm against your mouth hard until you managed to bite his hand away from your face.

“Tell her the truth!” You demanded.

“Tell her what? That we’re just best friends with benefits?! Fine! Okay, Dot, this is my best friend and we sometimes fuck! You happy?!” He said.

Bucky’s date, who now has a name, slapped Bucky in the face before walking away. You cackled at Bucky who looked at you incredulously.

“You ruined my date.” He accused you.

Your jaw dropped, “A date you never told me about! What the fuck is that?!” You angrily asked.

“I got bored and downloaded Bumble!” He explained.

“You said to come back to you after my date with Pietro! Which by the way, I asked for your permission before actually agreeing to.” You said.

“Well, I didn’t think that I needed to ask for your permission given that you were already out on a date when I decided to do the same thing.” Bucky said and rubbed his cheek.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “You are pissing me off right now, Bucky. If you don’t tell me why the fuck you suddenly went out on a date with that idiot, I am going to hurt you.” You threatened.

“Why do I need to have a reason for that?” Bucky asked irately.

“You know what I’m talking about. Play dumb again and I swear to god I’m going to cut a little bitch boy.” you threatened.

“Like I said, I got bored and decided to give Bumble a try.” Bucky poorly explained.

“You wanted revenge, didn’t you?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. “You hated that I went out with Pietro. You wanted to see the Star Wars exhibit with me but I was on a date and so you downloaded Bumble and invited a stupid girl on a date to get your revenge while also seeing the Star Wars exhibit. Tell me I’m wrong.” you challenged.

Bucky actually looked impressed, but the look on his face quickly changed. “Well, I thought she was cute so I swiped right. That’s the only reason why I asked her out.” he said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Liar.” you insisted. “Why would you randomly do that after shoving your dick in between my tits this morning?!” you almost yelled, your voice echoing all around the museum.

“Okay! Because I hated the thought that those same tits could be dangling right in front of Pietro’s fuckin’ Sokovian face and I needed a distraction!” Bucky exploded.

“You said I can go and fuck him!” you defended.

“I didn’t think you would actually do that!” Bucky said.

“You’re a dumbass, Bucky!” you screamed at him before punching his throat.

-

“For the love of god, stop fucking in public!”

You and Bucky turned around and saw an aggravated Steve approach the both of you inside the precinct.

“We didn’t fuck, Steve.” Bucky said, his hoarse voice making you snicker to yourself.

Steve frowned, “What happened to your voice? And what did you do to get you both detained? Again?” he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

The officer at the table cleared his throat, “The two of them were yelling vulgar things at each other in the museum before she throat-punched him. In front of preschoolers out on a field trip. They’re now banned from the museum.”

“You what?! You promised you wouldn’t get violent if I told you where Bucky went!” Steve gasped at you.

You only shrugged, “I didn’t promise anything, Steve.” you explained as you shook your head.

Bucky stood up, “You were the one who told her?! Traitor!” he said.

“She threatened to hurt me, Bucky.” Steve explained.

“Pussy.” Bucky told Steve before sitting back down.

“No, Bucky. If there’s anyone who’s a pussy, it’s you!” you pointed a finger at him.

The officer slammed the desk with his hands, silencing the chaos in the room. He let out another exasperated sigh as he squeezed the bridge of his nose. You and Bucky glanced at each other before nervously looking up at the officer.

“I will let the two of you off easily just because this entire thing seems to be a result of immaturity. But I will be requiring a total of 50 hours of community service starting tomorrow.”

Bucky groaned, “She hurt me, I shouldn’t be punished! I deserve justice!”

The officer glared at him, “Plus 30 more hours for implying that I’m being unjust. That makes it a total of 80 hours of community service.”

You cursed Bucky, “See what your bitch ass did!” you said and punched his shoulder.

“Another 20 hours for yet another act of violence. 100 hours of community service. Boy, if you don’t get the two of your friends out of here, I will be requesting a warrant of arrest.” the officer told Steve who quickly dragged the both of you out.

-

Steve slammed the door behind him and commanded that the both of you sit. He rubbed his face with his hand before letting out a deep and heavy sigh. You and Bucky slowly sat down on his bed, waiting for Steve to speak up.

“I’m so tired of the both of you dragging my ass into every mess.” he admitted.

“Then I’ll make Sam my emergency contact from now on.” Bucky said.

Steve glared at him, “If you did, he wouldn’t come to save your ass. So, you’re welcome. Both of you.” he said.

“I’m sorry, Steve.” you mumbled.

Steve bitterly chuckled, “Don’t apologize to me.” he said before glancing at Bucky, “You two need to talk. And I mean seriously, like adults.”

“What if I don’t want to?” Bucky asked.

“Bucky, I swear to god I’m this close to actually hauling your ass out the window.” Steve warned and it immediately shut Bucky up.

Steve headed for the door, “No one is allowed to get out of this room unless everything has been settled. Talk. Look, if you need to hump each other to fix things, by all means, hump away because I cannot deal with the two of you acting like kids throwing a tantrum.” he said and gave you both one last look before leaving the room.

“You heard Steve, talk.” you said.

Bucky turned to you, “Why me? Ladies first, talk.” he snapped back.

“You are such a fucking coward!” you grunted, about to rip all of your hair out.

“And you’re so bossy!” Bucky said and stood up from the bed.

He paced back and forth before looking at you again, “I want to punch you so bad. My throat actually hurts because of what you did, I can’t believe you did that right in front of kids!” he said before coughing.

You stood up and squared up to Bucky, “Fuck them kids! That’ll teach them not to fuck around.” you said.

“I’m so close to punching you right now, if you only knew.” Bucky said, gritting his teeth.

“Then punch me.” you challenged.

“I’m not doing that.” Bucky said in disbelief.

“See? You’re a coward!” you said.

Bucky’s jaw tensed, “I’m not a coward. Say that again and I will punch your tits.” he said.

You laughed, “No you won’t, because you love my tits.” you said confidently.

“Maybe I do, but you’re provoking me right now and your tits are not an exception at this moment.” he said softly.

“Then punch me, Bucky.” you said.

Bucky exhaled as he looked down at you, the blue in his eyes gone and replaced by darkness. You faltered a bit, afraid that you might have gone too far because this was the first time you’d ever seen Bucky stare at you like that— like he was truly mad at you. For a moment you thought that he might actually physically hurt you but he didn’t and instead, grabbed you by the neck and pulled you into a fierce kiss.

It was rushed and messy, the kiss with Bucky that you willingly returned with the same amount of fervor. There was nothing soft nor affectionate in how the both of you started undressing each other. The anger was immediately replaced by the pure unadulterated need to release tension before one of you could even explode.

Bucky had you on his bed, with your wrists pinned above your head as he pushed your underwear aside. With no prior preparation, Bucky slid inside of your cunt and surprisingly, there wasn’t much pain from the sudden intrusion.

“Can’t believe you’re already so fucking wet.” he grunted as he pulled out until only the tip of his cock was inside of you.

You whined at the loss of friction, your legs opening wider for Bucky to fully put his weight on you. He chuckled against your neck, “What? Fighting gets your pussy going?” he teased before slamming back into you, causing your body to jolt upwards.

“Stop talking and fuck me already.” you hissed and lifted your head up enough to catch Bucky’s bottom lip in between your teeth, tugging at it hard until it bled.

“What’s up with you and violence?” Bucky asked, licking his lips before kissing you hard, letting you taste the metallic tang of his blood.

Clenching hard around Bucky had his grip on your wrists to loosen up, giving you the opportunity to flip him around until you were on top. You tilted your head at him as you slowly gyrated your hips against his.

“What’s up with you getting on my nerves all the damn time?” you taunted before gripping his neck, using it for leverage as you bounced on his cock.

Bucky slapped your hand away as he coughed, “My throat is off limits!” he wheezed, “You wanna kill me or what?” he asked, annoyed.

He was able to flip you again but doing so only ended up with you fighting back for dominance until the both of you rolled out of the bed and onto the wooden floor. No words nor quips were exchanged from then on, having the desperate need to orgasm in hopes of easing away the tension.

Bucky let you ride him, his fingers gripping your hips and guiding you up and down his hard cock. Every single time he lifted his hips up to meet yours made you whimper, edging you closer and closer to your sweet release.

“Bucky, ‘m close…” you whined, nuzzling your face into his neck.

He cradled your head and kissed your temple before carefully switching the position, placing you down on the floor before taking your legs and putting them above his broad shoulders. He moved your hair away from your face before running his thumb along your bottom lip.

“It’s okay, you can cum.” he said before kissing you hard at the same time he pounded into you fast.

Your fingernails raked along his back, leaving your marks as you moaned into his mouth. Your toes curled and your eyes burned with tears when Bucky hit your sweet spot. Your abdomen spasmed and with one forceful thrust, Bucky sent you over the edge. You let out a breathy moan as you came, your pussy squeezing his cock tightly it had him cumming at the same time.

Bucky moaned out your name as his hips stilled, allowing your throbbing cunt to milk his cock dry. Your body jolted with aftershocks when Bucky carefully moved, thrusting into you a few more times until his body dropped on top of yours.

A few minutes passed by with nothing but silence and your breaths. Bucky rolled onto his back and rested for a couple of seconds before turning on his side to look at you.

You stared at the ceiling before swallowing hard, “I don’t like it when you flirt with someone else.” you finally admitted, your voice almost inaudible.

“I don’t like it when you entertain someone else either.” Bucky responded, reaching out to hold your face, turning it to look at him.

“Then why did you tell me to go fuck Pietro? You said to come back to you after and then I’d know the reason whether we were exclusive or not?” you asked.

Bucky licked his lips, “Because I got offended that you even had to ask.” he said before looking up at the ceiling, “I always thought that it was obvious that we were...sort of...you know. We have sex but platonically. I mean, we’re best friends. But also I thought that we aren’t? But not like enemies, just...you know what I’m saying. And when you asked for my permission, I thought that this meant nothing to you because you actually considered entertaining someone else.” he said.

“I should have said that but you know how terrible I am in...these types of things.” Bucky further explained.

“Yeah, you’re terrible at talking.” you said before laughing softly, “But so am I.” you added.

“I mean you did punch me instead of explaining.” Bucky said.

You cackled out loud, “I got carried away! I’m sorry, I punched you. But seeing you flirt with that dumb bitch?” you said, “I was so offended you went for someone like her.” you said.

“I lied because she was the first person who popped into Bumble and I swiped right immediately. I was angry and was desperate to get you out of my mind.” he said before humming, “So, did you and Pietro…” he carefully asked.

You groaned and covered your face with your hands, “Almost.” you admitted, “But I moaned out your name instead.”

Bucky sat up from the ground and looked at you with disbelief, “No, you did not.” he gasped.

“I did.” you moaned in embarrassment, keeping your face covered.

Bucky laughed, “I’m flattered but embarrassed for you.” he said in between his chuckles. “I can’t believe you did that.” he hollered.

You sat up and pushed his shoulder, “I fucking hate you.” you said but ended up laughing along with him.

“I was so excited to tell you about it, I thought we could get a good laugh at it. I also hate to boost your ego but Mister Buba is bigger than his peepee. I asked him to show me. I said I needed to know.” you told Bucky.

Bucky choked, “You asked him?!”

You told Bucky everything and reassured him that Pietro was truly a friend, and a good one at that. However, you didn’t mention anything about the talk you had with him about you and Bucky. Things may have been clarified between the two of you, but there was one more thing that you wanted to know.

“We suck at this, you know?” Bucky said.

You nodded, “Can I ask you one last thing?” you asked, “And I want the truth, no bullshitting nor weird analogies.” you reminded Bucky.

“I’ll try.” Bucky said.

“When you...hmm…” you cleared out your throat, realizing how difficult it actually was to be straightforward about it.

“When we played Never Have I Ever...when you put a finger down in that one particular round...was it...how do I say this…” you scratched your neck.

Bucky sighed, “How about we talk comfortably in a way that we will both understand each other? Because I know that we both suck at actually communicating.” he suggested.

You nodded, “Okay, alright. I’ll try.” you said and pondered for a moment.

“Was Sam really the person you thought of?” you asked.

Bucky shook his head, “No.”

Your breath hitched, “So did you mean that...you...me...no, shit.”

“I…” Bucky interrupted, “I love…” he started.

You nodded and lifted your eyebrows at him as you waited for him to continue. “You love…?” you asked.

Bucky looked like he was about to pop a vein with how much he was struggling, “Iloveyourtitsandpussy.” he said in one quick breath.

You were about to complain about his statement when he continued, “And I mean I don’t want...anybody else’s tits and pussy. If you catch my drift…” he said and cleared his throat.

You bit the insides of your cheeks and nodded casually, “I think…” you said and then coughed a few times before inhaling, “I think that...my pussy also...loves Mister Buba…” you blushed, whispering the last part before looking away from Bucky.

When you looked up, Bucky was failing at concealing his grin. His face was red and it probably wasn’t just because of the rough fucking from earlier. He ran his fingers through his hair before composing himself.

“Mister Buba is pleased to hear that.” he said.

“He better be.” you said.

“Look, I know this is...weird? We don’t have to rush into anything, at least for me. What do you want to do now?” Bucky asked.

You nodded, “I know, I feel the same way, Buck. I mean, it scares me. And I’m happy with what we currently have and...are you?” you asked, hoping to get the same answer from him.

Bucky nodded reassuringly, “Yeah, I’m happy too.” he said, “We don’t have to change a thing.” he suggested and you agreed.

“Wherever this brings us?” he asked hopefully.

“Wherever this brings us.” you repeated. “And can we just start talking casually about...us? In a way we’re both comfortable in?” you asked again.

Bucky let out a breath, “Okay. Let’s swear on our pierced nipples.” he said, placing a finger on his nipple.

You groaned at his action but did the same thing, placing your finger on your pierced nipple before swearing.

“I swear on my pierced nipple.” you said monotonously.

Bucky nodded again, “I swear on my pierced nipple.” he repeated and was about to lean in for a kiss when the door slammed open.

“Steve, you wanna go grab some—” Sam immediately stopped as soon as he entered the room, seeing you and Bucky sitting on the floor, completely naked with both your fingers touching your respective nipples.

Bucky screamed at him, throwing a pillow into his face before grabbing his blanket to wrap around your naked body.

“Ever heard about knocking?!” you exclaimed.

Sam blinked, completely unfazed at the scene before him. “Look, I don’t care about catching you both fucking but why the fuck are y’all touching your nipples like that? Not to kinkshame but that’s kinda weird.”

“Get out, Sam!”

[giacomettislament]

Hi, the one on the "let Rook fuck reader agenda"! Sorry I didn't put it was a request! My brain takes a beautiful swan dive when I think of Rook.

I LOVE YOUR RAMBLINGS. THAT WAS AMAZING. You're a brilliant writer! Thank you for sharing that! <3

the forest (composition with seven figures and a head)

“we set the standards.”

rook.

content warning(s): explicit content, predator-prey relationship, hunting kink

prev.

—Fear. Fear is what he thrives off of, the huntsman that has you pinned down to the ground currently. You can barely hold onto your own thoughts; your lungs burn with strain, your legs have scratches all over them, and your mind is fuddled. Rook carves himself deep into your body, without even giving you a chance to catch your breath.

“What a minx you are,” he purrs. Your gummy walls won’t stop clenching down on him, and every time he feels you tighten around his engorged cock, he bites down on your shoulder. “Did you really think you could run away from me, mon ange? You can flutter your wings in vain all you want, but no matter where you go, my net of love ensnares your body…”

He thrusts hard into you, and you nearly scream out his name. He’s so heavy and so big, and he has his whole weight on top of you so that you can’t move. You have no choice but to take him into your sex, to hear the wet noises of him dragging his dick against your insides, to accept all the love he’s showering down on you.

You probably love the thrill as much as he does. The end result never changes—the two of you fucking sloppily like animals in heat on the floor, yet the inner masochist in you wants him to keep chasing you. Just the thought of him closing in on you and then splitting your tight hole into two makes your entrance squelch lewdly around him, and you pull him closer to you.

“So big…! You’re gonna break me-,” you cry out, barely holding onto his broad shoulders. He keeps forcing himself deep, deep, deeper into you, until it feels like he’s forcing your poor hole to mold itself to the shape of his cock. Not that it matters, you can’t dream of sleeping with anybody else after him.

“Oui, mon amour, that’s it…,” Rook chuckles to himself. Every one of your expressions, trembles, and moans are the rewards of his hunt, and he wants to shatter you into a million pieces underneath him so that he can collect every bit of your essence and store it away for himself to admire. He can’t let anyone else have you; you’re his muse of love. “Break, my dear… Break for me, and tell me that you won’t have anyone but me… You can’t run forever, my love!”

Your core burns, coiling with fiery trails of lust and animalistic impulse. You feel less and less human with each thrust of his hips, and you’re left reeling into the ground. You’re nothing more than a pile of muscle and bones and spit and cum, all fucked out into a crazed frenzy by the huntsman on top of you, until the whole world knows of your debauchery from how much you’ve let yourself go.

It’s humiliating to be caught and have Rook ravish you endlessly, but it’s the only way you can be honest with yourself. You want him: his shadowy hands, his less-than-pure intentions, his toned body forcing you into that place of submission he loves best. You’re nothing more than a means to his ends, but you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t want to be caught by him.

“Break me! Break me, Rook, break me already!” You choke out, scalding tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Your sex tingles—you’re close, so so very close. Your body can’t take much anymore of his taunts and his roughness, and you only have time to clench your eyes shut. That way, you can spare yourself the humiliation of shattering in front of him.

Cumming around him feels like pleasure and pain all at once. You throw your head back, your mind going completely blank as he pistons harshly into you, slamming endlessly into that one spot that makes you whine and curl your toes. Ecstasy rips through you, and you clamp down on his length, milking him for all you’re worth. Your hole pulses and spasms around him, and your body trembles helplessly against his muscled form as the high of your orgasm numbs you to everything else in the world.

Rook grins to himself, his eyes flashing dangerously like a flare in the dead of night. He licks his lips, watching you recoil underneath him from your climax.

“How beautiful…,” he sighs to himself, his fingertips tracing against your burning skin. “And to think this is all for me… Can you blame me for being so selfish with you, my sweet prey?”

x

[katnissmellarkkk]

Yes, I know. It has been forever and three days since I updated this fic. But don’t worry I didn’t abandon! But since it’s been a while, if you want to go back and re-read the first three chapters, they’re on AO3. But if you’d rather just read a quick recap of the events so far, here it is:

- Peeta found Katniss after she blew out the arena at the end of Catching Fire and before the Capitol hovercraft found him, causing them both to be captured.

- Snow played tricks to get Katniss to cooperate and said Peeta was dead.

- Katniss loses her cool and tries to scratch Snow’s face off like she did Haymitch’s in canon.

- Snow later revealed Peeta was still alive but badly injured and promised to save him if Katniss did what he wanted.

- Katniss was reunited with Peeta but Snow’s head guard comes to make Katniss pay for attacking the president.

-

Marcus unlocks our cell door once again and tosses it open, with the flick of only two thick fingers. "What're you doing here?" I find myself asking, the volume in my voice raising as he comes closer and closer. His eyes, which appear black in the dim light, are trained solely on me. "What do you want?" I demand again, so exhausted and so hungry and so close to fracturing apart entirely.

"What?" He smirks at me, and then at Peeta, as if he can't believe we didn't already anticipate his arrival.

But when he tries to take another step closer to me, Peeta grabs my hand and pushes me behind him, attempting to shelter me from the petrifying male with the rotten gleam deep in his eyes.

He's not fast enough though, he couldn't possibly be. Marcus is swift as the wind and rips on my arm until I'm thrown directly into the concrete wall. My back, thankfully, took the brunt this time.

The awful man peers down as his smile grows larger, flaunting a mouth of crooked, silver and gold implanted teeth.

"Oh I'm sorry? Did you really think you'd get away with scratching the face of President Snow that easily?"

-

Everything becomes a blur so fast. In a matter of moments, everything around me, everything inside of me, becomes distant and unclear and covered by a deep haze.

Marcus lets me go at first, letting Peeta grab me again, not putting up a fight for reasons unknown to both of us. We don’t spend any time at all pondering it though. We don’t the luxury.

Peeta is holding me behind him when the chaos starts. That’s the very last thing I can clearly remember. Peeta’s arms are tight around me, stretched backwards as if he possesses the power to cage me away from any predators headed our way. I tell myself that I should try to do something, that it should be me shielding him, that my wish to save his life in the arena still stands now inside Snow’s mansion.

But our attempts and desires are all in vain. Everything me and him try to do is irrelevant, like a fly trying to fight a human’s hand from crushing it to death. Like the deer I hunt in the woods, who try to run and protect themselves a split second before my arrow pierces their hearts wide open.

Maybe this whole thing is nature’s revenge on me for murdering countless animals.

Every defense we put up is fruitless, as in the blink of an eye, three more large — unnaturallylarge — men join us in the cell too and they have long needles in their hands and muscles no normal person could ever dream of, and they outnumber us. Even on our best day, even in the greatest shape of our lives, these men could break us with their bare fist.

Peeta is stuck with a needle first and almost instantly collapses. Against his will, he falters to the ground, his eyes and hands twitching as he lays against the cracked concrete floor, immobile from whatever they injected into his bloodstream.

And I don’t have time to even cry his name. I barely have a second to process what just happened, to fear that he’s really dead this time — I mean, after all, how many times can he almost die and then pop back up again?— before I’m suddenly grabbed and yanked and stabbed with another syringe, containing a different kind of concoction.

The world becomes unbelievably foggy after that. It’s almost as if a gray-blue film has been cast over my vision, as if I can’t see things clearly any longer, as if my ears are plugged and my mouth is stuffed with cotton and my eyelids are unbearably heavy.

But the weirdest part of all is that I can still feeleverything. I can feel absolutely everything as the scariest guard, Marcus, drags my limp body across the ice cold floor and down the narrow hallway. I feel it as he handcuffs my wrists too tight to the wall and a large drop of water splats from the ceiling above.

Read The Rest On AO3

[ventiiology]

— ✦ || home

title . windtrace characters . kaeya , diluc , venti , childe type . fluff , bullet-point headcanons

an interesting man in mondstadt is advertising for a game that represented mondstadt’s history but eventually got less played and forgotten over the years. he wanted to bring back the tradition, with more exciting edits made to the game in hopes of attracting more players. you have convinced your boyfriend to play it with you, and hell, it was a wild ride.

kaeya, upon hearing about the game from you, would already be interested

it sounded really fun, so he played it with you asap

he may or may not have skipped some duties from the knights, but in his eyes it was completely within reason

he didn’t tell you about that, of course, or else you would’ve forced him to go back to favonius headquarters and finish up whatever boring paperwork he needed to sign.

anyways..

as a hunter he would be quite experienced, as expected, since he was a knight and had to do similar activities when hunting down criminals like treasure hoarders, the abyss order, etc

you’d have to be good at hiding, otherwise the game would end very quickly

“hm? i’m surprised how you were able to outrun me the first time with your height. i don’t usually fall for the same thing twice, that’s why i was able to catch you~”

as a rebel kaeya would also be surprisingly good at the role

he’s scarily good at hiding and even with your perks as a hunter to trace wherever he is, he still made it really challenging

if you ever get too close to wherever he’s hiding or disguising he might take advantage of having a cryo vision to slip you up somehow

whether that be literal or not

although he’ll get called out for cheating later

“my, you’re freezing up. come on, don’t be salty you lost. you were pretty close to catching me, i’ll give you that.” kaeya says as be brings you into his embrace, warming you up in dragonspine’s bitter cold.

diluc would honestly not be interested at first

it would take quite some pleading, daily bugging, and perhaps a bit of bribery to get him to agree to play

tell him that he wouldn’t have to see kaeya around for the week or something

as a hunter he would spend a good 30 seconds just standing there wondering what he should do. there are a lot of places to hide, and the map was very big. also you could’ve disguised yourself as something from the area, so how could he be completely sure it’s you?

he’s really quiet so you wouldn’t hear him coming

using the hunter ability to trace where you went, he’d be somewhat indecisive on whether he should take his time or run to follow the traces

will use hunter abilities at the most inconvenient moments

for you, as the rebel, at least

like when you think he didn’t notice you and is walking away he’ll activate the hunter ability ‘insight’, which reveals your location and points you out with a pillar of light

diluc will be annoyingly good at finding you this way

“did i scare you? i— i’m sorry. i’ll try not to repeat my actions.”

as a rebel, he’d probably be more hesitant than when being a hunter

multiple times throughout the game, he will mutter to himself that he is not suited for this role

however diluc always seemed to take the longest to find... you wondered how he pulled it off every time

he’s definitely aware of this game

venti, of all people, should know about windtrace, especially its origins...

so he’s actually the one who invited you to play with him

as a hunter he’d love the thrill and challenge of finding you

he would much prefer to be a rebel, but the hunter role was still fun to play as!

he’d take his sweet, sweet time as a hunter

not sprinting all over the place will give him more time to examine places

but if he gets as much as a glimpse of action, he’ll go running towards that

“heeeey! that’s not faaaair! i declare a rematch! if i win this one, you owe me... an apple! no, five apples!”

“deal!”

as a rebel he’ll be able to find hiding spots in places you didn’t even know existed within the map

he might use a little bit of his anemo powers to let him climb up to higher places... if needed

will climb trees a lot, so when you start looking in trees, he alternates his hiding style

and he’s a speedy little shit too— so speedy you can hear him leaving sonic behind

like if you manage to get his disguise out of commission and you spot him since he’s unable to hide, he’ll literally just speed away behind something then you lose track of him

like???? what??? how does he??????

he will taunt you

one time he was disguising and you got pretty close

when your back was turned, he whispered, “missed me~” then will use the rebel skill ‘transparency’ to just disappear and sprint away since he knew that your hunter abilities’ cooldown wasn’t done yet.

“let’s play again! hold on, let me write a song about this...”

you didn’t even get to finish asking him if he wanted to play windtrace with you and he already agreed

this man is a simp

he’ll never admit that, though. he has pride.

as a hunter, the games played with childe will be so nerve-racking and intense

while he’s hunting for you, it’s like his whole aura’s changed

he seemed far more intimidating and scary than usual

“[name]~ where are you~? i can tell i’m getting close...”

why was he taking this game so seriously????????

when playing with childe, you could truly feel like you were the prey and he was the predator

he’ll give you a false sense of security. he’ll make you think that you’re safe from his watchful gaze.

you used your ‘transparency’ ability to become invisible to him

he’ll pass by and you hold your breath, nervous that if he hears a single movement, whether it be an exhale or the small brushing sound of your sleeve moving against your shirt, he’ll be able to find you

he walks away and sprints out of sight. he probably saw movement ahead and went to track that

you started to calm down and your tense shoulders relaxed. phew, he was gone.

then, you heard a whisper behind you as someone grabbed your shoulders.

“boo~”

you jump out of shock and he starts laughing at the scare he gave you

“that was not funny. i’m gonna hate you forever for that one.”

“you can’t hold it against me for that long, and you and i are both aware of it.”

as a rebel he would be annoyingly good at it too

after him scaring you as a hunter you got somewhat paranoid. who says he won’t pull off the same kind of thing as a rebel?

you swore you saw a wooden crate move so you turned around to face it but then it was gone

childe’s light on his feet and barely makes a sound

you’d get more panicked as the timer ticked closer to the end of the game. you really wanted to win this one.

according to the ‘hunter’s intuition’ skill you were able to pinpoint the place where childe was at

you sprinted closer to the beam that gave away his location

you wandered around the area, trying to find where exactly the pillar of light was pointing you to... then the light disappeared

you saw a hay roll near a house which definitely wasn’t there last time you checked, so you took your chance

you were 5 metres away from it when you felt a certain someone pull you into a hug from the back.

at the same time, your timer rang, signifying the end of the match.

how does childe keep sneaking up behind you?

“hah, was it really that hard to find me, love?”

“HOW DID YOU DO THAT?”

“i’m just a natural at it, i guess. haha, don’t worry~ with enough practise, you might surpass my skill level!”

[watermelonlipstick]

Parking Lot

This is a love letter to the Dean who told Cassie everything about his life after knowing her for 2 weeks and who didn’t see What Is And What Should Never Be as a horror show until he saw his bond with Sam was gone. I don’t think it would work for a later seasons Dean, who had pretty conclusively abandoned this idea for himself. I’d love any advice or critiques!!

Title: Parking Lot

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3801

Summary: A parking lot quickie leads to an illuminating argument between Dean and the reader.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, angst, ~*idiots in love*~, fluff

           In a couple ways it seemed like a lesson; you really shouldn’t have been fooling around in a parking lot no matter how late at night it was. Especially not a bar’s parking lot, potentially more likely to be busy at this hour, shadows be damned.

           But it wasn’t all your fault, not by a long shot. Dean knew exactly what he was doing, getting a Manhattan rather than his standard straight bourbon just for the cherry, rolling it around with his tongue and licking his fingers of the juice while you waited for the guys you were playing pool against to shoot.

           If Sam had been there you might’ve been able to keep it together for politeness’s sake, but you didn’t give a shit about these people and you weren’t doing research for a case, just blowing off steam post-job before heading out of town in the morning.

           Two could play at Dean’s game, though, you arching your back deep into the table to make a shot and practically purring “your turn” when he was up, hovering close enough to see the goosebumps spread over his neck when he smirked and obeyed. He finished the game lightning fast with a string of laser-focused shots and you silently downed the rest of his drink as the guys ponied up, tossing thick folds of cash onto the table and shaking Dean’s hand. You didn’t even feel guilty for hustling them, partly for their ignoring you but mostly for the distraction of Dean’s hands reracking the balls and grabbing your coat, sliding a palm to your lower back with his pinky just barely under your waistband. It was all you could do to wait until you get to the back of the parking lot to shove him up against the Impala and bite his bottom lip almost too hard before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

           You felt the smile and heard the groan at the same time, both pouring into your mouth as you ripped at Dean’s jacket, trying to yank his flannel off his shoulders with it. You abandoned the project to paw at Dean’s tee once you’d gotten the outer layers bunched down around his elbows, kissing him hungry and dark like he was yours to take.

           One of Dean’s bitten off groans trailed off into a barely-there whimper. For all his posturing he loved this, when he could give up being predator and let go for a few minutes to be your prey. He didn’t start fumbling for the door handle until you flicked open his belt, his other hand clutching at a handful of hair at the back of your neck and kissing down your jugular fast and hard. Imagining the way Sam was going to roll his eyes at the hickeys only added adrenaline while Dean finally got the backseat door open, sliding you in and unfurling on top of you. Still working on his jeans, you dragged him tight between your legs.

           “You are—so—mean,” you grinned between kisses. “Teasing me like—that.”

           Dean’s eyebrows kicked up on his forehead, playing dumb like you knew he would. “Me? Never.” His act dropped the moment you finally got his fly open, wrapping your hand around his cock through his boxers and punching all the air out of his lungs. His head rolled back on his neck almost violently, impossibly long eyelashes grazing his cheekbones and lips parted around a breathy “fuck.”

           His switch flipped, Dean scrambled to strip you as fast as possible. You tried to help him in large part to avoid tearing your clothes, ending up crushed into the leather of the bench seat somehow with one leg fully out of your jeans and underwear, the other knee tangled up in the fabric. He’d shoved up your shirt and bra and it would’ve been uncomfortable and tight if any of your senses had been turned to it instead of Dean wetting his middle finger to slip-slide along your clit, murmuring something about “I love it when you do that,” into the side of your neck as he swirled circles into you. After a few moments you were writhing in the seat and Dean pulled that finger back up, sucking you off of it before pushing it up inside you, then another.

           “Fuck me, Jesus Christ Dean,” you moaned against his tongue, yanking him forward until he guided himself into you. The stunted warm-up helped but that first push was always a shock, and whatever sound you made was loud enough that Dean covered your mouth with his hand, grinning conspiratorially down over fingers still steeped in you as he thumped you into the car door.

           “Quiet—someone’s going to hear you.”

           You bit his hand and Dean yelped with a chuckle, pulling it back before you roped around his neck and kissed him lasciviously. “Don’t tell me what to fucking do,” you smirked.

           He stabilized himself against the Impala’s door to pound into you harder, you wrapping your legs around his waist and whisper-moaning filthy nothings into his ear, biting his neck until suddenly you felt that finely honed awareness pique in the back of your mind, flaring hot enough to burn and you froze, thighs clamped tight around Dean.

           “Baby, I—”

           “Don’t fucking move—did you hear that?” you hissed.

           Dean tried to pull back and tensed hard, shuddering into you as you tried to lift your head to see as surreptitiously as possible before the delayed processing hit you. When you looked up at Dean he didn’t meet your eyes, wincing over one shoulder with his arms still planted.

           “Tell me you didn’t,” you whispered.

           He was silent for a half-second, still didn’t meet your eyes. “I tried t—you fucking death-gripped me with your legs, what was I supp—”

           “Oh my god, get off of me,” you yelped, trying your best to sit up and snatch at anything to clean yourself up before realizing it was useless. “FUCK! Fuck, Dean, fuck, what’re we going to—I can’t be—”

           He leaned back into the seat to get back into his jeans and fasten his belt. “One thing at a time, okay? They’ve got like pills and stuff right? We don’t even know if it’ll take.”

           You rolled your eyes angrily at him as you jammed your leg back into your jeans. “Our fucking luck it’s already triplets.” You ran a hand through your hair and took a deep, hard breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

           “No, I get it.” He slumped into the seat next to you. A long beat passed, you and Dean both sitting stupid, half-dressed in jeans and untied boots, hair all over the place. He cleared his throat. “Wanna head out?” His voice was small and rough; you knew he was sorry and maybe a little embarrassed. If you were more highly evolved you might’ve been able to console him more in that moment, but your heart was bounding through your chest about what was going to happen next—if. You managed to squeeze his hand in solidarity if nothing else before grabbing your stuff and moving to the front seat.

           Minutes of silent road passed before Dean reached over and covered your knee with his hand. You capped it with one of yours and saw his lips twitch up at the corner in response.

           He glanced over at you tentatively. “Maybe it uh, wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, you know?”

           Your incredulity spun you around in your seat so you were fully squared to him. “What?”

           It was dark in the car but you thought maybe Dean’s cheeks started to look pink. “I don’t know, teaching a little squirt how to play catch or whatever, might be cute.”

           “You cannot be serious.”

           His eyes flicked back over to you and his lips pursed out, trying to look non-plussed. “Whatever. Just trying to make you feel better.”

           “No, you’re not. Because that exact possibility is scaring the shit out of me right now and two minutes ago you were trying to convince me we were going to pill this away. So it’s—is that something you want? Having a kid someday?”

           Dean took his hand back under the guise of using two hands to turn the steering wheel.  “No.”

           You waited, willed your own heartbeat to slow down. As you knew he would, Dean kept talking, keeping his eyes on the road more to avoid the vulnerability of looking in your eyes rather than out of necessity on the long, straight stretch of road. “I don’t know. It really seems that bad to you? Having something that’s really, like, ours? Just you and me?”

           “We’re not talking about a something, Dean, we’re talking about a fucking kid.”

           “Jesus, fine, forget it. Sorry I asked.”

           His knuckles went white on the steering wheel and underlined that Dean Was Done Talking. What an absolute waste of a fun little night out, leaving Sam to have a couple hours alone. Now instead of getting back looser to a well-rested Sam, you were going to barrel into this crappy motel terrified with a pissed off Dean, dropping it all at the younger Winchester’s feet to deal with (again).

           It took you until the motel parking lot to muster up the courage to touch Dean’s wrist. “Can we talk for a second?” Dean pretended to be annoyed but you could tell it was an act shielding a spot of tenderness. He flopped his hands in his lap and looked over at you expectantly. “Maybe it’s dumb to even talk about this; like you said, it might be nothing. But I just—I mean if—do you really want that? What would that even look like? Not even with me or whatever obviously but leaving hunting, leaving Sam—”

           “Leaving Sam? Who said anything about leaving Sam?”

           “You volunteering him as nanny?”

           Dean sort of half-rolled his eyes and shifted to face you. “You know as well as I do that Sam doesn’t want to be doing this, not forever. I’m not saying we should be fucking trying, obviously, I’m just—I’m going to stick around no matter what happens. I wouldn’t ditch you with my mistake.”

           You scoffed. “How noble.”

           “Not like that. But I’m not a complete moron, I know we’ve played with fire a couple times and I know what I’m doing.”

           “I guess I just figured that was heat of the moment stuff.”

           A flash of something passed over his face, gone almost too fast for you to decipher. Offense? Sadness? “Yeah, part of it. But you—you’ve never even thought about it?”

           “Thought about how I’d get a couple hundred dollars and find a clinic, yeah. I—we can’t be hunters with a baby. And I won’t be stashed in some safe house somewhere, see you and Sam for a day or two every couple months, be the loner single mom who can’t tell anyone anything about her life.”

           “Single mom? I’m not a fucking deadbeat. I just said I wouldn’t make you deal alone.”

           You shot him an exasperated look and took a deliberate breath to keep from rising to the bait. “So what, now you want to get married? Dean, I’m not even really your damn girlfriend.”

           He reached for the handle fast enough that you had to scramble across the seat after him, Dean pausing in the open door. “Look, if it’s not what you want, that’s fucking fine. But don’t patronize me. Not my fucking girlfriend? Fuck you.”

           You flew across the Impala and out of the passenger door, following Dean as he stormed across the asphalt. “Fuck me? How are you mad at me?”

           He spun on his heel in the parking lot. “I tell you I’m willing to leave all of this—all of everything I really know, fucked up as that is—for you, would make you my whole future and you, you—your response is that you’re not even my girlfriend? Yeah, fuck you.”

           “Dean, that’s not what I—” but he had already started storming back to the room. “DEAN!” you yelled, standing stock still in the middle of the lot. He paused with his back to you for what felt like a long second before turning back around. “I don’t want to bring this back to Sam. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just—I’m scared shitless about something that might not even happen and then you spring the idea of some shotgun wedding on me—”

           He rolled his eyes without even a hair of humor, the muscles in his jaw tensing hard enough to catch the cold overhead light. “See, how can you—” he started, before taking a deep, deliberate breath and starting over in a tone that was forced calm. “That’s everything I ha—that’s all I can give you, is loving you and fucking being there for you. So if it’s that fucking cheap or skanky to you then I’m sorry for wasting your fucking time.” When you didn’t respond his spine straightened a few degrees. “What? Say something. Tell me how stupid I am for suggesting that being tied together might not ruin your fucking life.”

           You felt that your mouth had fallen open but didn’t care. “You love me?”

           Dean’s face contorted like he was looking at a mirage of something bizarre, curious and disbelieving and frustrated. “I lo—of course I love you, what the fuck?”

           “Y—you’ve never said that to me.”

           “What? Yes I have.” His voice softened a shade, the certainty his anger had afforded him beginning to slip away like sand at high tide, but his eyebrows stayed indignant.

           You’d never been more certain of anything in your life, that Dean had never said that, because it was something you wanted constantly. Craved, even. Were kept awake at night by; the desire to have your feelings for Dean reciprocated too intense even to dream about. So you justified and bargained with yourself: if fooling around and this kind of casual commitment—girl who would cover him and Sam in a firefight and didn’t hound him for a label—was what he wanted, it was what you would give. Anything for more time with him or the chance to kiss those lips, to see the way he looked first thing in the morning, to get annoyed at his bullshit idiosyncrasies.            

           “No, you haven’t.” So many more words tried to burst forward from you that you had to bite your lip to be sure your mouth stayed closed.

           Dean held your eyes, willing you to say something until he lost his patience. “Who says that stupid shit all the time anyway? You know I love you; I’d do fucking anything for you.” His voice had started to rise again but the heat behind it was some sort of hungry desperation, not hurt rage. “I’m—you don’t think I love you?”

           You started to feel completely exposed by the industrial light, seared alive by green eyes. Shifting your weight from foot to foot didn’t help, and you fought angrily against the lump forming in your throat.

           He looked over his shoulder and the barked “FUCK!” startled you despite yourself. “Kid, I—FUCK, that’s what this is? I loved you since that first fucking hunt in Cleveland! You really think I’m just…? This isn’t some Beaver Cleaver ‘I put you in a family way’ bullshit, I—I don’t know, I just, with you it feels like for the first time maybe it’s not insane to think that I could—that we could—whatever, man, I’m not fucking talking about this.” A hand shot up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous tic you recognized immediately.

           You took two big steps toward him. “Dean, I just—I didn’t know. That’s—I mean I’m not going to say I’ve been thinking about it; but it—it’s more because I didn’t even think it was on the table, you know? I thought we were, I don’t know, really close friends that sleep together.”

           Dean’s eyebrows flew up his forehead and he blew an almost-laugh out of his nose. “I don’t even know what to say to that. Never heard of any friends that live together and fuck raw.” His tongue slid along his molars and he sucked his teeth looking down at the ground, flicker of a despondent, self-deprecating smile twitching his lips. “Uh, noted, I guess. Sorry I misunderstoo—” and his eyes on the blacktop prevented him from seeing you cross the few strides between you, catching him off guard when you kissed him hard enough to bruise, hard enough to feel everything you wanted to say, wanted to scream (at him, from the rooftops, ohmygodhelovesme) take a backseat for a moment. He grunted at the impact, stunned for a half-beat before surging forward into you, wrapping into your hair and pawing at your hips with desperate effort to get closer. Feeling the grin against your mouth, you wished you weren’t standing in the absolute middle of the parking lot, frenzy to have something to push each other against building to a fever pitch inside you when Dean tugged your hair back to look at your face.

           He looked downright pornographic; swollen, flushed pout and impossible lashes framing bedroom eyes Marilyn or Sophia would’ve envied. A washing of cockiness only amplified the effect, those pillowy lips pulling into a lazy smirk. “So is this a really-close-friends kiss or what? Trying to figure out how much tongue I’m supposed to slip you.”

           You giggled good-naturedly, letting the weight of your head press into his palm. “You are such an asshole.”

           “Yeah, you fuckin’ love it.” He sucked on that sweet pulse spot under your ear deeply, some accessory movement with his tongue enough to make you see stars and miss that it was you letting out that ungraceful whine-moan. When Dean spoke the air passing over your spit-slick neck exploded in goosebumps. “And I love you.”

           Dean kissed you in that searching, delicious, eat-you-alive way he sometimes did after a particularly victorious hunt when he either had all the time in the world or didn’t give a fuck about making it; soothing-probing with a little edge of danger that hypnotized you. It pulled at the sweater of your being and tugged, steady and cloying until you were something loose and ephemerous in Dean’s hands, something equally likely to float away or explode right there in that parking lot, clearing a hundred miles in every direction and leaving behind only the imprint of your craving for him. It’s a miracle your brain was able to function at all. In the best circumstances this flayed you open and coming on the heels of having the most beautiful gift you could imagine dropped at your feet—Dean loves you, he loves you and always has—it felt like it could stop your heart and you wouldn’t care.

           “I need about twenty minutes in a cold shower or I promise I’ll knock you up right the fuck here,” Dean growled, low with sin directly into your ear.

           You laughed breathily. “I thought you said that might be a good thing.”

           His chuckle was rough as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head. He rested there for a moment before murmuring into your hair. “You really thought we were just messing around?”

           “Dean, come on, I—don’t make me say it.”

           “Say what?”

           You swallowed shakily, tried to get a handle on your thoughts through the endorphins. “You—I—I’ve had it bad for you, thought if I really like, acknowledged it that it might fuck up what I did get to have of you or that some commitment would freak you out or whatever so I just—I don’t know, tried to be cool about it. Obviously we’ve always been kind of ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ when we were apart—”

           Dean cut off your rambling. “Uh, has there been something you’ve been ‘don’t tell’-ing? I wasn’t ‘don’t ask don’t tell’-ing.”

           “You haven’t?” you asked, surprised enough to be knocked off your nebulous trail of thought.

           “No, I mean—no. You would’ve been fine with that?” The disbelief was so clear on his face it was practically casting a glow around him.

           “Not fine with it—of course not—the thought of it kept me up nights, but I didn’t you to think I was some jealous freak.”

           A smile spread over his face slowly, butter on hot toast. “So you would’ve been jealous?”

           “I was jealous, I thought that’s what was happening.”

           Dean’s head lolled back on his neck a few degrees, smirk cementing itself in place. “That’s kinda hot.”

           It took the tension out of the moment and you chuckled under your breath, glancing down at your feet. “Yeah, you would say that right now, psycho.” It was breathy and shaky but Dean let you have it, throwing his elbow around your neck affectionately and tucking you into his side. With a kiss to the crown of your head, he started you both walking to the room lazily. At the door, you stilled him as he reached for the knob.

           “Would you really want to keep it? Like, no bullshit, if that’s the situation, that I’m actually—you know, you wouldn’t want me to…?”

           He licked his lips and bit the bottom one. They parted for a moment before he began to speak as his gaze flicked between your eyes. “Babe,” he finally breathed, and there was a note of croak there. “I’m in this for the long haul. If that’s where we’re going then we’ll deal with it. If you don’t—if you’re not there, I get it, but for me, I—yeah. If it’s going to be anyone for me, it’s you.”

           “Even now?”

           “I could think of worse things. Worse things have happened to me this week, probably.”

           There were so many follow up questions running through your mind, so many rock-solid certainties that Dean wouldn’t really be able to quit hunting, that even figuring out how to go to an OB-gyn on fake IDs was likely to be more complicated than either of you realized, but his lack of hesitation was so sweet, so earnest, and you were still riding that he loves me high. And you might’ve gotten lucky; it might be nothing, no parking lot baby to contend with, just a tense reminder to be more careful next time. It was easier than you might’ve thought to give yourself permission to relish it for the night, consequences be damned.  

-

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[kiwibes]

Every time someone from my neighbourhood posts a "found my chickens bitten to death/stolen by a fox(or some other predator) this morning😢🙁is already the third time 😬😩anyone else also missing chickens?" On our fb group I am so close to losing my marbles. And for every comment that says 'me too! It's really getting worse now' I physically have to restrain myself cuz no it's not. There have always been foxes here and your chickens have been slaughtered forever. Be happy that wildlife can still survive in the hellholes of cities and suburbs. This 'uwu my poor chickens'-narrative only fuels claw traps, glue traps, poison traps-perpetuators. Stuff you don't want in the wild cuz besides wildlife your cat or dog could also encounter it!

If I tell them they should just invest in better infrastructure they insult me or ignore me which only shows that they don't care about chickens. Just about cheap eggs and garbage dispossal. Otherwise they would have upgraded after the first chicken slaughter.

So, for the sake of my mental health and the physical wellbeing of chickens everywhere I'm gonna share the setup that has kept the ladies safe for the last 3+ years in these 'predator infested' times and regions.

There is a coop with iron wire. None of that stretchy rope crap, anything with teeth can bite through it in minutes and other birds can get tangled in it. Burn it. Some nice quality chicken wire does the trick. Use a decent skeleton that is anchored solidly in the ground (we used some iron pole holders of 50 cm deep). Make sure it is sturdy. You don't want anything pushing it over or out of the ground. The top is also covered in case something would try to climb in it. Half of it is a roof in case of rain or excessive sun but you do you. Just cover that shit. Have door with a decent lock. Not some textile rope, it will weaken. Just sth too advanced for smn without tumbs.

Around the whole coop there are concrete lawnborders of approx 50 cm dug in and fixed with quick cement and also attached the wire. It runs all along the coop. It prevents foxes from digging underneath the wire. It has to be deep enough. If it is just a brick as I've seen often they can move it or dig it up. But if it's deep and fixed they will give up and move on to easier prey. Undeneath the door we buried a big slab of rock with the same result.

The chicken house is raised and gets locked every single night in case sth does get in the closed coop (never happened so far) and the nesting box has a loop-hook systems and two stones to keep it closed. The gnomes are the guards but they are optional.

In this area, all predators hunt after dusk so if the ladies are closed up after nightfall they should be fine. During the day we let them stray in the garden freely. We have no more slugs (or rhubarb, our mistake). They often get mowed grass or a new tree trunck to play with. The strong underground inforcements also prevent them from digging a hole underneath the wires themselves for their fancy dust baths. Apart from the house, everything took 1 dry afternoon to build by two people.

So, just use your brain and hands that have especially evolved to outsmart predators and protect your ladies. Predators will hunt and you should let them. Humans should use their brains and outthink them.

[procrastinatorimagines]

I Would Never Hurt You

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warning/s: injury, violence, blood

Word Count: 2,169

Request:  Can I just send this as a fic request....? Perhaps with a request for a little angst...? 🥺

You were surprised to see Dean when you poked your head into the weapons room, the loud noises waking you much earlier than you would have liked, but still, you weren’t complaining that he was back early.

He didn’t notice you at first as you stood leaning against the door frame. “Knock knock,” you said, rapping your knuckles on the door a couple of times to get his attention, smiling as he paused and turned to face you, a gun in either hand from the box he had been rifling through.

“Hey,” he blinked, clearly not expecting you to be there, “I didn’t think you’d be up.”

“I wasn’t,” you laughed softly as he looked around at the mess he’d made, realising that he’d woken you up with all his moving around.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, putting the guns in his hands down. He looked awkward, like he was unsure what to do with himself as he stood in the room, looking almost out of place.

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, glancing around at the sheer amount of opened box and weapons strewn about in the room. “What do you need all those for? And at this hour? Why didn’t you come to bed?”

Annoyance seemed to flash across his face, “you’re asking a lot of questions,” he commented, not answering any of them.

“I’m just curious,” you replied, feeling the need to get a little defensive at his unnecessarily snappy attitude, “weren’t you on a hunt with Sam? What happened with the shifted?”

“Oh, yeah, killed it,” he answered, clearing his throat as his eyes darted away from you slightly. Okay, what was going on? You were the one who’d been woken up early, and you hadn’t had any coffee yet, so why was he the one in a mood?

“Yeah?” You tried, hoping he’d elaborate a bit. He still hadn’t told you why he needed more weapons if they’d killed the shifter, and where was Sam? There was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Yeah, that’s what I just said,” he snapped, practically growling at you as you straightened up, shocked at the tone he was taking with you. He didn’t seem to notice, or care, turning back to the box he’d been going through.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” You asked again after a moment, DDean slamming the box lid down as soon as you’d asked it, looking back at you in frustration. 

“I-” he began, the force of the slam not only making you jump, but making what looked like a knuckle duster fall down from the shelf nearby as it rattled. 

Instinctively, Dean caught it, realising his mistake a second later as he gasped in pain, letting it go as it clattered to the ground. 

“Dean-” You went to check if he was okay, taking one step forward and then freezing in your tracks. That’s when you saw it, the burn marks on his hand where the knuckle duster had just been. The silver knuckle duster. 

“You’re not Dean,” you realised with a gasp.

 Your instincts kicked in quickly as Dean, or rather, the shifter, grabbed the nearest weapon to him, any pretence of pretending to be the man you loved gone as he snarled at you. 

You were already turning on your heels as he lunged for you, pulling the door shut behind you with a slam and running as quickly as you could, very much defenseless right now. 

You needed a weapon, and you’d just locked him in there with an arsenal.

Turning sharply into the nearest corridor you collided with the wall, kicking off your slippers so you could move quicker just as you heard a door behind you slam open and fast footsteps begin to approach. 

Where could you go? You could try to get to the kitchen, but you had no idea what weapons the shifter had taken with him when he started chasing after you, you’d probably be bringing a knife to a gun fight. 

Dean’s room was the closest now, you barefeet slapping against the cold floor as you kept your pace, the sound of the shifters echoing footsteps sounding through the empty bunker. 

“Y/N!” He yelled in Dean’s voice, so very much not Dean as you stumbled slightly. You knew the bunker like the back of your hand, but so did Dean, which meant so did the shifter. 

This fact became all too apparent as the sound of his footsteps began to recede, lulling you into a bit of a false sense of security as you slowed your own pace, still moving but a little breathless as you turned another corner, only to find yourself face to face with the monster. 

He grinned when you stumbled to a hault, realisation dawning on you that he’d gone another way around, kicking yourself for not considering the possibility. He did have Dean’s mind afterall.

You were so close to Dean’s room, if you could just make it... He’d have taken his gun, obviously, but you knew where he kept his backup knife, his silver knife. 

There was a moment where you both stood still, neither of you moving before a spell seemed to break and he charged at you, barely managing to turn on your heels and make it a few steps away before you felt a hand unceremoniously grab the back of your night gown, tugging you back harshly and sending you crashing to the floor.

He all but pounced on you as you kicked up, winding him slightly as you rolled over and tried to stand. He was only slightly inconvenienced though, a rough hand grabbing you leg and pulling you back to the ground towards him as you tried and failed to claw at the ground for something to hold on to.

A predator and its prey.

He flipped you back over and pulled a knife out from his belt, the look in his eyes and his weapon of choice telling you that he had every intention to take his time killing you.

You barely had time to react as he began to bring the knife down, the look of enjoyment on his face made a million times more haunting by the fact that it was painted onto your boyfriend’s face. 

A knee to the groin was always the best bet, whatever the species, followed by a well aimed strike to the face and knife missed it’s mark, barely. The pain as it sliced through your side was excruciating, and deep, but it wasn’t life-threatening, yet. 

Another shove and he stumbled back, clearly not expecting you to put up this much of a fight, a fact which you probably blamed on the fluffy bunny slippers he’d seen you sporting earlier. 

Step one was to get up.

You shuffled back on your butt and hands a little before turning and pushing yourself to you feet, meeting the hand that grabbed your wrist with a quick punch to the face, feeling bone crunch beneath your fist. 

Step two was run.

You certainly didn’t need any incentive, using whatever strength you had left to propel yourself forward, somehow surprising steady given the gash in your side. It was going to be hell once the adreneline wore off.

Step three was hide.

Dean’s door was just there, you could make it... And you did, pushing the door shut with a slam and locking it with slippy, blood covered fingers. It wouldn’t hold on its own though, so you shoved a unit in front of it with all your might.

“Bitch!” You heard the shifter snarl as it tried the handle, shoving the door with all its might as the unit shook. Mercifully, it held. This was the Men of Letters’ bunker afterall.

Step four was call Dean and Sam.

You made your way to the other side of Dean’s bed, shaky fingers tearing open his draw and pulling out one of his many phones, dialing the number you knew by heart and sending up a silent prayer that someone picked up.

They didn’t.

It went straight to voice mail. “Dean- Dean, it’s me, you need to get back, the shifter-” you looked down at the blood soaking your night gown and dripping down your leg, “-please hurry.”

Step five, most importantly, was survive.

You put the phone back and went to his bed, pulling the silver knife out from under his mattress along with one of his shirts, getting as comfortable as you could on the floor against the unit and applying as much pressure you could to your wound, other hand wrapped tightly around the knife as the banging continued. 

Right now, there was nothing else you could do. You just hoped Sam and Dean got back before the shifter found a way in, or you bled out.

-

You didn’t know exactly how much time had passed since the banging had subsided, but now you could hear yelling, faint at first but getting louder as more footsteps sounded in the hall outside the door, tensing in anticipation and wincing at the pain that flared again in your side. 

It was Sam and Dean, you realised, or at least, their voices, was it actually them? Or just more shifters? 

If it was them, they must have just gotten back, they’d probably seen the blood on the floor...

“Y/N?!” Dean’s voice boomed, angry and concerned as he banged on the door, “Y/N, oh god baby are you in there?!” 

“Dean-” You heard Sam try to console his brother, “maybe we have the wrong room, maybe-”

“Y/N!” Dean yelled again with strained despiration, ignoring Sam as he pounded harder. 

You gripped the knife in your hand tighter, pulling yourself shakily to your feet. The shifter hadn’t sounded like this, he’d been cold, cruel, there was emotion in Dean’s voice you didn’t think even it could mimick. Maybe it was a trap, you doubted it, but even if it was, you wouldn’t last forever in that room.

So slowly but surely, you shoved the unit to one side, hearing Dean pause on the other side as the boys waited to see who emerged from behind the door. It opened slowly, and nervously, taking a big step back and raising your knife when you felt hands push it from the other side.

“Y/N,” Dean sighed with relief. He tried to rush to you but you leveled your knife, not wanting him to take another step closer. Not until you were sure. 

His face when from one of joy and relief, to one of confusion, to finally one of concern as he caught sight of the blood, and the way you were clutching your side, fire flashing in his eyes. 

“Are you, you?” You asked him, wanting desperately to fall into his arms but still being too scared of what would happen if you were wrong, if this wasn’t Dean. 

“What?” He replied, not really listening as he took in your wound and pale complexion.

“Are, you, you?” You repeated, slower this time as he took in the silver blade you were wielding with an iron grip. It all clicked then.

“I- yes, Y/N it’s me, it’s me and Sam,” his eyes were soft, raising his hands to show you he didn’t mean any harm as he glanced back at his brother, who kept his distance to give you some space but put his gun away to show you the same. “The shifter, he was here?”

You swallowed tightly and nodded. “He looked like you- he-” you looked down at your injury subconsciously.

Dean clenched his jaw, “he hurt you, that son of a bitch-” he practically growled, “when I get my hands on him-” 

“Dean,” Sam warned, noticing how you flinched at the way his voice rose.

He focused his attention back on you immediately. “Y/N, look at me Y/N” he said softly, his voice catching a little as he made you meet his eyes, “I would never hurt you, you have to know that.”

It was all too much for you now, the knife feel like a tonne weight in your hand as you arm began to shake, letting it go as it clattered to the ground and collapsing with a sob. 

Dean caught you instantly, you arms instinctively wrapping around him as he held you, one hand gripping you tightly as the other stroked your hair. “It’s okay, shh, it’s okay, I got you, I got you...”

Dean looked to his younger brother, “I’ll go get the med kit,” Sam said knowingly, turning on his heals and hurrying. 

“Come on,” Dean muttered gently, moving one hand under your legs and picking you up with ease, “let’s go make sure you’re alright.”

“The shifter-” you began but he shook his head.

“-can wait, you’re more important right now,” he told you lovingly. 

“But we’ll get him?” You double-checked, feeling Dean’s muscles tense at the question.

“We’ll get him,” he promised, and a little part of you almost felt sorry for him.