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sturniolo-rat · 6 months ago

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Cake Eater’s Delight

Matt Sturniolo X Reader

A/N: here’s your anal fic as promised! I spent way too much time describing yoga positions. For this, I am extremely sorry.

Contains: smut, anal, oral, butt plugs

TW: BEARS! Also, the term "Butt Slut" You give me a simple request, and I will do the absolute most

Y/N is wearing yoga pants that accentuate her ass. Matt is intent on fucking it.

Today is self-care Sunday, and Y/N just finished making a strawberry banana smoothie with extra protein powder for her boyfriend, Matt. It’s seven a.m., and she has the whole day planned, but first, she has to get him up and ready.

“Wakey wakey, My sweet boy.” she chirps eagerly, holding the smoothie to his face.

“Oh god.” he groans, wipes the sleep from his eyes, and sees how hyped Y/N is. Still very disoriented, he says, “I see you’re having a good morning, Baby, but what time is it?”

“It’s seven a.m. and I’m super excited for our early morning nature walk!”

He sits up and sighs. “The fuckin’ nature walk.” Matt was actually pretty enthusiastic about this last night when he agreed to it, but not so much this morning. It’s too early, and he just wants Y/N to come back and be the big spoon for the next two hours. The smoothie, however, is immaculate, and he made her a promise. He summons all of his strength and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He sits facing Y/N and says with a smile, “I’ve never been more pumped for anything in my life!” Y/N gives him a bone-crushing hug before skipping off to get him the outfit she picked for him yesterday. Matt can’t help but stare at her booty as she makes her way to the closet. Those damn yoga pants get him every time.

Half an hour later, they arrive at the closest California state park. Matt is warming up to the idea of this walk. He really does love nature, and having a little stroll in it is certainly something he would do as self-care. “Maybe we’ll see a bear!” Y/N squeals.

“I love bears. They're so fucking big and dumb.” He really does hope they see a bear. His excitement over seeing a dangerous animal in the wild isn’t his fault. He has a very serious condition called white man curiosity. Bless him and his family.

As they walk the dirt trail, Matt tells her facts about all the animals and plants they encounter. At some point, the trail leads them to a very colorful part of the woods filled with flowers. The trail has slowly been getting narrower, so Matt is now walking behind Y/N. “Baby, If I sincerely told you that I accidentally body-swapped with my sister, would you believe me?”

He’s deeply confused by the question, but he has an answer for it, regardless. “I would probably ask you a question that only you could answer first.” he pauses to laugh at how silly she is. “Would you believe me?”

“Most definitely,” she responds with unnatural quickness.

Matt is taken aback. “Why so certain?”

“Well, now that we’ve had the conversation, I don’t think you’d say you were body-swapped unless it actually happened.”

He’s getting very invested in the conversation now. “I’m not worried about it because you only really get body-swapped with people you dislike. So I don’t think there’s any danger of this happening to me and my brothers.”

“I don’t hate my sister, but we are polar opposites, so I see body-swap potential.”

“Be careful not to get sucked into any body-swapping hijinks, My love.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.”

Suddenly, he grabs her arm and stops her in her tracks. Y/N turns around to look at him, but all she sees is a beautiful array of flowers. Matt had been behind her, picking a bouquet of flowers as they talked. He moves the flowers from in front of his face and hands them to Y/N. “It’s a thank-you gift. I truly am having an amazing time today.”

“This is insanely fucking sweet. Thank you so much, Baby.” She leans in to give him a soft peck on the cheek. “I think we should start heading back though. We’re getting kinda far out.” They had gotten lost in each other's company and didn’t notice that they had been walking for an hour and covered at least 2 miles of the 5-mile trail.

Matt tears his gaze from Y/N’s face to take in their environment. “Goddamn, we’re like way out in the fuckin wild!” He can tell Y/N is getting somewhat uncomfortable with the thought of being so deep in the woods, so he holds out his hand for her to take and starts to walk her back down the trail.

Y/N lets go of his hand and taps him furiously on the shoulder. “Matt. Matt, it actually fucking happened. Look!” she whispers in his ear and points into the distance.

“A bear!” Matt yells.

“Hush!” she hits him hard on the head. “Don’t be the idiot who gets killed because he screamed at a bear. Just get the camera out.”

He fumbles with his backpack but realizes he didn’t pack it. He was so sure they wouldn’t come across a bear. The pictures and videos he takes on his phone will have to do for their next vlog. Once Matt has all the bear material he needs, they continue down the dirt path, tip-toeing very quietly.

When they finally reach their car, they’re exhausted, sweaty, and gross. Matt, however, is also rocking a semi. He’s been walking behind Y/N for hours now, watching how her ass moves. They’ve just started experimenting with butt stuff recently. He’s been obsessed with her backside ever since. He can't get the image of the pink hello kitty butt plug sticking out of her ass out of his mind. The drive home is pleasant and gives him time to calm down. Matt doesn’t want his horniness to get in the way of the day Y/N has planned.

They arrive home, and Y/N flops on their bed. The walk was way longer than it was supposed to be. She’s anxious to tell Matt about the next activity she has planned, but she needs a quick break to hydrate. Matt comes in clutch and brings her the Stanley cup she filled up that morning but forgot to bring. She sits up and takes the cup. “Thank,” she says as she takes a sip. “God!”

“Don’t thank God. Thank me, Honey.” he winks as she absolutely chugs her water. There’s water dripping from the sides of her mouth running down her neck and breasts. Fuck she can even make drinking like a feral caveman look sexy. When she finishes, she sets the cup down, and Matt’s dick jumps in his pants. She looks like she could be in a wet t-shirt contest. He’s really fighting for his life right now and needs an activity to distract himself. “Alright! Get up, Baby. It’s time for whatever’s next on the list.” He hopes it's something lame and calming like meditation or maybe some silly facial skin routine.

“Okay, I’ll go get the yoga mats and bring them to the living room.” She hops up from the bed, fully recharged and energetic as ever. “Oh, yay. I’m gonna bring my new yoga ball, too!”

“Oh, good!” he says quite insincerely. He should have seen this coming. She’s wearing the yoga pants she reserves for actually doing yoga. This is going to be torture. He tucks his boner into his waistband and waits for Y/N in the other room.

When meets him there, she kicks her yoga ball into the corner and gives Matt a big hug before setting up their pink and blue yoga mats. She’s so happy to be spending the day relaxing and playing around with him. Her ponytail whips around behind her as she spins to face Matt. “Did you know it’s actually recommended that you do yoga or stretch after long walks? The walk wasn’t meant to be long, but how lucky it is that my plan works out.” She’s speaking extremely quickly due to her excitement. She pauses for a breath but begins talking again before Matt can respond. “Are you ready?” she asks expectantly.

“Of course, My love. Your plan is perfect.”

They stand on their respective mats, and Y/N realizes that Matt has probably never done yoga in his life. “Let me show you five poses you need to know before we start.” He takes a deep breath and prepares for a face full of outstretched booty, but to his surprise, she sits down crisscrossed. “We’re gonna start off with the Sukhasana. Just sit down, touch your pointer fingers to your thumbs, and close your eyes.”

“Seems easy enough,” He says and patiently watches as she changes pose.

“Then we’re gonna transition into the Adho Mukha Svanasana. Just get on your hands and knees,” she demonstrates as she talks. “Place your hands down in front of you, shoulder-width apart. Then walk your legs back so your hands are under your shoulders, and your knees are under your hips.”

“That’s a lot of words to explain what I believe is the very simple-looking downward-facing dog.” Yup. This is exactly what he expected. It’s awful and stressful, but it’s also absolutely fucking glorious. Her booty is a piece of art crafted specifically for him by the hands of God. He tears his eyes away and looks at her face as she once again, changes her pose.

“Oh, shut up. I’m trying to sound like a yoga professional,” she says with a small chuckle. “Anyway, the next pose is the pigeon pose.”

“Yeah, super fancy and professional.” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes.

“Moving on!” she says, letting out an exasperated breath, “From the Adho Mukha Svanasana position, you’re gonna lift your left leg up while keeping your other leg straight and your foot arched.”

“Jesus Christ,” Matt whispers loudly. The pose essentially looks like she’s throwing it back on the floor. Her bottom is round and cute, and all he wants to do is reach out and squeeze it. That’s a lie, actually. He wants to smack it. Hard, very fucking hard. He wants to grope her fat, meaty thighs and worship her body. She’s talking, but he can’t hear her. He’s in a trance, and he needs to do something about it. “I’m sorry, Sweetness. I really am, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Y/N gets up and looks at his face, very concerned. “What’s wrong, Baby?”

He still hasn’t looked up at her face. “It’s your ass.” He licks his lips. “I have to fuck it.”

Y/N moves so that she’s directly in front of him and grabs him by his jaw to make him look at her. She whispers in his ear, “I know.” Matt has been lusting after her all day. There was no possibility that she wouldn’t notice. "Time to destroy my root chakra."

“Fuck yes!” He pulls her into a rough, toothy kiss. His lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against hers. His hand reaches up to massage her breast, and she moans into his mouth. She needs him. Needs to see more of him. Y/N tugs at the hem of his shirt. Matt takes the hint, breaks the kiss, and removes it. She puts her hands on his chest and rubs them down his abdomen. He’s so beautiful.

In one swift motion, he wipes her hands away. She whimpers and gives him a pathetic, needy look. “I know you want to touch me, Baby. I know.” He says as he makes his way over to get the yoga ball. “But right now, I need you to bend over this ball and show me that pretty, pretty ass of yours.”

Y/N does as she’s told. She loves it when Matt bosses her around. He pulls at her pants aggressively, and she doesn’t understand what he’s trying to do. Then she hears a tearing sound and feels the cold air on her bare bottom. “You just ripped my favorite yoga pants!”

“Quiet!” He barks. “I’ll get you new ones.” He says as he forces her panties down around her knees. His hands part her cheeks, and he can’t believe what he sees. He has been lusting after this woman all fucking day, thinking he was being a pervert. Little did he know that Y/N had her butt plug in the whole time. He takes a closer look. It’s not her favorite Hello Kitty one, but the one with the blue jewel on the end. Matt’s eyes widened; it’s their second biggest one. Y/N anticipated this, and she always comes prepared.

He kneads both of her cheeks as he asks, “Oh, Sweet girl, did you plan this? Was this part of your little self-care day? Did you need to be a little butt slut for me to feel complete?”

“I do.” She whines. “Last night, I got so horny thinking about you playing with my ass.”

“I can tell, Sweetheart. You used the big blue one. We’ve never even touched that one before. Were you training your ass for me?” He sits on his knees behind her so his face is level with her rear. Matt takes his time biting and kissing her ass. She lets out a hiss when he starts to play with the plug, pulling it out only to put it back in again. Every little movement has her gasping. He keeps going until she’s too loose for the stretch. He slaps her on the ass with so much force he leaves a handprint, and she lets out a wail.

“I know we haven’t done it before, but do you want to take my cock?” he asks.

“I want to try,” she says in a shaky voice.

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I swear.”

“I promise I’ll be gentle, but first,” He shoves his pants and boxers down and takes his cock in his hand as he walks around to Y/N’s front. “I need you to lube up my cock. Can you do that for me, Baby?”

“Mhmm, I can.” She replies eagerly and opens wide.

Her mouth is wet and warm around his cock. He holds her hands behind her back so she has to deep-throat him to reach his base. The dirty, sloppy sounds coming from his thrusts in and out of her throat are music to his ears. He needs to hear more. He grabs her by the ponytail and fucks her face harder. He wants to hear her choke and gag. She doesn’t mind it. She’s just happy to be of service. Her mouth is so fucking perfect, but he needs to stop before he cums. He pulls out, and she gasps for air. “You okay? Catch your breath, Baby.” He gives Y/N time to orient herself.

“I’m okay.” She gives him a big smile. Only sluts smile like that after choking on cock.

“If you want me to stop at any point, just tell me, and I'll stop.”

Y/N nods her head, and Matt takes his spot behind her. He pulls the butt plug out very carefully and sets it aside. Her pussy is so wet and leaking, but he ignores it entirely, except to say, “You’re dripping down your thighs, My love.” he smiles to himself as he taps his cock on her ass. “You’re soaking your new exercise ball,” he says as he slowly pushes his tip in. When he finally pushes in past his tip, it burns and hurts, but she loves the sensation. She keeps thinking that it can’t get any longer, but it just keeps going, and the stretch burns until, eventually, he gives her all of him. Her asshole clenches hard, and it feels so fucking amazing, but then it’s burning and hurting right at the entrance, and she whimpers as he pulls himself out halfway. He’s going so slow, and he wants to speed up so badly. Her asshole feels so much better than he imagined it would. He knew she would be tight, but he didn’t know how deep she could take him. She can’t fit him all the way in when he fucks her pussy. It feels so nice to be able to give her everything he’s got.

“You can go faster now.”

“Oh, yes.” he bites his lip and speeds up to a respectable pace.

“No, faster. I need it faster,” she says desperately. He picks up the pace, and finally, he starts to feel like he’s properly fucking her. She’s moaning and whining because it feels so bad and so good at the same time. It’s a very confusing sensation, but all she knows is she wants to cum so badly. Usually, Matt likes to make Y/N cum first, but he doesn’t know if anal will make her cum, and he just can’t resist cumming in her ass. He stands her up so she’s up against his chest and reaches in front of her to rub her clit. This is what she needs, what she’s been missing. He loves the sounds she’s making. He doesn’t even notice he’s been drilling into her faster and faster. Y/N is letting out loud yelps with every thrust. If anyone overheard them, they would think she was in agony.

“I’m gonna cum, Baby. I want you to try to cum with me. Can you do that?” he says, breathing heavily.

“I can try.”

“What do you need, Love? How can I help you cum?”

“Please pull my hair.” His hands are around her ponytail before she can even get all the words out. He pulls so hard she’s forced to look up at the ceiling.

“Like that?”

Her eyes are rolling to the back of her head. “Fuck, yes! Just like that! I’m gonna cum!”

Matt puts more pressure on her clit and feels her cumming. It feels different from when he’s in her pussy. The thought of having had every one of her holes pushes him to the edge, and he releases himself into her asshole.

Y/N’s knees buckle, and she collapses onto the exercise ball and pants. He wants to ask her if she’s alright, but he’s distracted watching his cum leak out of her ass. “Fuck,” he leans over to pick he up bridal style. “Let's get you into a bath, okay?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but that’s actually next on the list.”

“Perfectly planned, My love.”

Masterlist

@rafecameronsbitch @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @mrsmiagreer @lovergirl4387 @gdsvhtwa @ashley9282828 @j-worlds-blog @stephanienwf @achrisgirly @draculaura123 @abbypost @Cind2224 @crazychrisl0v3r @ryli3sworld @bkwrld @pinkishpearls @pepsienthusiasts @stunza @chrattstromboli @sturnssmuts @angelic-sturniolos111 @69isabella69 @maryx2xx @sturniolo04 @bigbeefybitch @klaus223492 @r93339 @sturnzsblog @spotconlon55 @robins-scoop @junovrsmp4 @sturnlover4eva @blahbel668 @lilahnowheretobefound @luxy-nyx @tuffsturns @m0r94n @sturnstvs @pepsicolapussy333 @maddyslifesstuff @dogblof @honeymoonxxz @xplr-sturns-e-m @hayhjelmstad15 @thetriplets3 @y0urm4m @mattyblover07

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

Note

For the ‘little intimate things that leave me breathless’ thing, could you do “having a piece of hair brushed off your face as you're reading or looking down.” With Tommy pretty please if you are able! 💖 Thank you!

Thanks so much for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took so long for me to write — I hope you enjoy this fluffy piece! Also sorry one last time for the spamming of stories that I’ve been doing … I hope it hasn’t been overwhelming, and that the reason behind me wanting to clear out my asks and drafts will make sense tomorrow. Enjoy! 🥰

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

A Good Look

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: smoking

Summary: Tommy tries to smooth-talk his way back into a good standing with (Y/N). It doesn’t quite go the way he hopes it would…or maybe it does.

(Y/N) was engrossed in the ledgers when the sound of the door opening echoed through the otherwise empty betting shop floor. She didn’t bother to look up, knowing exactly who had entered from the sound of the shoes on the hardwood alone.

She continued reading as Tommy took a seat in the chair across from her, hearing him go about fishing his cigarettes out of his pocket so that he could put one between his lips and light it with a match. It was only after he asked “what is that?” that she brought her eyes up to meet his.

“The ledger from the Eden Club,” she answered flatly, holding his gaze for a moment before dropping it back down to the paper.

“Why do you have it?” was his next question.

“Arthur gave it to me…he wanted to have someone check it over to make sure it was done properly,” she answered, her words making him scoff.

“Bloody Arthur,” he mumbled, shaking his head, “he probably didn’t look it over in the first place.” His statement made (Y/N) glance up at him again, her eyebrows raising as he continued to mumble something about how he should have never trusted his brother with such a big responsibility.

Not saying anything in response, (Y/N) shook her head at her husband’s mutterings before focusing herself on the ledger again. She read a few more lines, focused on the numbers and the meanings behind them, before she felt the strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face being tucked behind her ear. When she looked up, she found Tommy moving back to sit normally again after having leaned over the table. “What was that for?” she couldn’t help but ask, an eyebrow quirked.

“Just wanted to get a good look at you, love…haven’t seen you in a few days,” he answered, the right corner of his lips tugging upwards. (Y/N) couldn’t help but snort at his statement. Her reaction filled Tommy with confusion. “What?” he had to ask. Usually his smooth-talking would be met with an equally as smooth and flirty response, or at the very least a grin. So to get the complete opposite this time sent his mind into a whirl.

“Schmoozing me isn’t going to make this go away that easily, Thomas,” she told him, pressing her lips into a tight line.

“Make what go away?”

“That stunt you and your brothers pulled at the Eden Club before taking it from Sabini…” she didn’t hesitate in spelling it out for him, “there’s about a million better ways that you could have gone about that.”

Tommy sighed almost immediately after hearing the reason behind her sour mood. “(Y/N)…” he started, taking a deep drag from his cigarette before he continued - because he most certainly needed it, “we needed to show Sabini that we were serious. We didn’t enter that club with the intention of having things go the way we did…”

“Sure,” (Y/N) was quick to cut into this explanation, sarcasm laced into her voice.

“It’s the truth,” he defended himself.

“You don’t go anywhere without a plan, Tommy, and you know damn well that your plan’s going to work the way you want it to ninety-nine percent of the time. You entered that club with the intention of making a violent statement, and you and your brothers succeeded in pulling it off.”

Silence fell in the room after (Y/N) finished her frustrated statement. They kept their eyes on each other, watching the other’s moves intently; looking for any possible microexpression.

It wasn’t until Tommy glanced down at the ledger that the silence was broken: “you’re unhappy with how we went about our business there, but yet you’re still checking over the club’s ledger,” he pointed out, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Tommy…” (Y/N) said in a huff, annoyed that he had to be so cocky, but yet so right.

He said nothing in response and instead relaxed back into the chair, clasping his hands over his abdomen. The smirk that was threatening to break into his face was in full view now.

“Have you gotten your good look yet?” (Y/N) broke the silence, her one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“Hmm?” Tommy hummed, amusement clear in his voice.

(Y/N) huffed at his response. “Will you get outta here so that I can finish this up?” she asked a different question, trying not to completely crack her countenance.

Ever the betting man, Tommy tried to wage a deal: “Depends, will I see you later?”

“If you leave now?” she asked, seeing him nod before it was her turn to grin, “maybe.”

“Alright then,” he nodded, standing from the chair to go to the door of the shop. He turned to look at her before leaving, seeing that she had already dove back into checking the ledger. He just had to get one more good look at her before leaving.

(Y/N) shook her head as she heard the door to the shop shut. That was one way to get rid of him, she thought to herself with a grin.

———

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby blurb #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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chaoticbardlady99 · 10 months ago

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Maryë (Astarion x GN! AFAB Reader) MDNI 18 +

Synopsis: Astarion left to explore the world and himself following the death of the Netherbrain. You remain in Baldur’s Gate with your brother, Gale, resigning yourself to your fate as Astarion’s friend until you die. Until one day, you and Astarion begin to write letters back and forth. Except there is one letter in particular that you suspect isn’t from Astarion…

CW: minimal mentions of violence, smut, Oral (Female Receiving), PIV, Tav’s also just an oblivious idiot who apparently doesn’t think very hard about words (it’s me, I’m Tav the idiot and this is like my Fiancé and I’s friendship prior to ya know, dating lmfao)

Author note- I might also write this in AMAB! Format, but I need to do some… research first for accuracy. This is lightly edited and just some silly little thought I had. I wanted to write something not so detailed for once while I work on my drafts for Lethal Woman and She’s Not Acid Nor Alkaline. Also def stole a line from Tolkien and added to it at the end (this is me crediting).

You’ll either love this or hate this idk.

The title literally translates to Home in Elvish.

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

As always- likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, I am just terrible at responding.

Tav,

As much as I enjoy our current form of communication- I was wondering if I could come to see you in person.

I have so much I need to say to you and I want to be able to do it in person- the proper way.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours,

Astarion

You sit and stare at the letter like you have been doing for the last week since you received it. Unlike your half-brother, Gale, you are not one for words. It was hard to respond to Astarion’s letters initially until Gale “doctored” your responses- often putting whatever silly accomplishment you have achieved lately or stories Gale found interesting from your recent solo adventures.

“Are you going to write the letter or are you hoping it’s going to write itself?” Gale teases.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“I don’t know what to write back.”

“I could come up with a couple things!” Gale clears his throat, “‘ Oh Astarion- I’ve missed you terribly this whole time! I regret telling you that we should be friends until you figure things out! Despite my VERY WISE BROTHER’S ADVICE TO NOT DO THAT! I wait like a lovesick puppy at the mailbox every week hoping a letter may arrive!’”

You roll your eyes at him and throw one of his many decorative couch pillows at his head. He certainly has your mother’s flair for the dramatic. However, you can’t necessarily say he’s wrong- you have been nothing less than a smitten school girl waiting for letters non-stop.

Astarion had gone back to the Underdark after the last battle with the Netherbrain. He told you that he wanted to go and explore who he is- the world too.

You had been as enthusiastic as you could about the decision considering you had come up to him at the party with a letter in your hands asking if he would like to continue traveling with you after this- you had been too scared to say it outloud. A part of you hoped it may allow your romance to blossom without the impending threat of death at every corner. Well, if he still harbored any feelings for you at all.

You had merely smiled and told him how excited you are for him. It answered the silent question that had been there- was there still room in Astarion’s heart for you after you said you should just be friends and try again later?

The answer was ‘no’, despite Gale’s perplexed face and lecture when he found out you gave the spawn a send off with a ‘long’ hug (he made you describe it in detail). You refuse to give yourself any hope- you will remain a dutiful friend since you resigned yourself to this fate.

Then you received a Sending spell with him requesting your address and the letters began. You squealed like a schoolgirl when the first one came in and ripped it open enthusiastically. You didn’t realize Gale was home, otherwise you wouldn’t have read it out in the open- Tara snitched on you!

You had only truly met Gale around a couple months prior to your mutual abduction. Your mother had asked you to assist a brother you never knew about in finding magical artifacts- you quickly learned it was because the man was becoming a damn recluse.

You had worried he’d slam the door in your face or turn you into a sheep for all of eternity- the minute you told him your name was Tav Dekarios, he pulled you in for a hug and told you he had been awaiting your arrival. Gale was thrilled to know that, like him, you were also a prodigy in your craft.

You are a virtuoso master with any instrument you touch and you cast spells that are almost far too good to be true. You became Oghma’s Chosen in your teen years after spending many years practicing under his mentorship (which is why you and Gale had a very weird, serious talk one night about how Mystra is kind of a fucking pedophile) and that allowed you to do incredible things.

Your notes could create shimmery images and tell stories- Arabella and the other tiefling children (even the very tough Mol) enjoy coming over and watching war tales be told with nothing but a drum and a rain stick. Sometimes you let them tell tales and you come up with a tune to match it- eventually finding a rhythm to put your mind into and create the picture.

It was one of the many things Astarion mentioned in his note- he stated that none of the other Bards even begin to hold a candle to your talent. You blushed deeply when you read the line.

He told you about everything he had seen, everyone he had met, what he’s found out about himself, and shockingly enough- how much he misses you. It had taken you by total surprise, but you responded saying you missed him too.

Pet names began to flow easily into inked lines and it felt like you had a tiny part of him back in your life- your friendship is still as strong as it was before he left.

The letters have quickly become the best part of your week and occasionally you’ll read them with Arabella. She ooos and awwws, then attempts to bully you into tell Astarion your feelings. You cast a mini rain shower over her head with a few poetic words for the suggestion. You don’t want to ruin what you have and there is always the possibility that he found someone else.

However, you weren’t unsure of this particular note because you didn’t want to see Astarion- you would love that. The issue is that it doesn’t look like his handwriting, it isn’t the paper he uses (he’s ridiculously particular), and it doesn’t flow. Gale thinks you are over analyzing it, but you are pretty sure that this isn’t Astarion’s writing. He also addresses you as “Darling” not Tav and signs the letter of with “‘Órenya ná órelya” (my heart is your heart) not “Yours”.

You’ve waited for another note to come in since, but nothing has. You are beginning to wonder if Gale is right and you really are just being paranoid.

“I already told you, Gale,” you say with annoyance, “something isn’t right about this note. I don’t think this is from him which is worrisome because that means I haven’t heard from him in two weeks WHICH could MEAN-“

“For the love of Gods- TAV,” Gale yells, effectively shutting you up, “my young, oblivious little sibling. Just say yes and let him come visit.”

*********************************************************

It had been two days since you sent the sending stone and there was no response. Not that it would have mattered anyway considering you are somewhere in the Underdark in a very beautifully lit cave. Neon, blue veins of magic run through the rock. The pathway is lit with glowing flowers and…. Benches?

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the market and the next- Astarion had come up to you from an alleyway and said he needed help. He had told you that he would love to catch up, but there is an injured child around the corner and since he can only stay in the shadows, he needs you to help them. Before you knew it- someone hit you with a sleep spell and the last thing you remember seeing is stars as your head slammed into the pavement. Oh and a, “oooooffff my bad” before you blacked out.

You blink your eyes a few more times, trying to figure out what in the wretched hells is going on.

“Oh for the love of- I told you to talk to Oghma’s Chosen! Not kidnap her and give her a serious concussion!”

A hazy, short figure comes into your vision. Is that…. a Deep Gnome?

“You told us it was imperative for the wedding! We intercepted the real letter and wrote this one,” another Gnome says, “and it worked! They showed up and everything! We’ve been watching since you told us to talk to her two weeks ago! We were running out of time for talking and bargaining so we just-“

“Kidnapped them!” the man yells, “you kidnapped them!? You- you imbeciles! They are supposed to want to perform for the wedding- you had at least six more hours! AND I GAVE YOU TWO WEEKS!”

“But Walby-“

Walby.

You know Walby! He and Barcus have been dating for a while now and the two are over the moon smitten. You are very happy for Barcus- this man is everything Wulbern could never be.

“No! I have had enough of your silliness! Leave me at once!”

You hear the three Gnomes that supposedly ambushed you walk off in angry huffs. A flash of healing magic fills the air and your head is finally clear- your ears no longer ringing like a triangle.

“My apologies, Ms.Dekarios,” Walby, says, “I wanted them to give you an invitation to come to Barcus’ and I’s wedding this afternoon, but as you heard, they are not the brightest bunch.

“It’s a very last minute ceremony- my mother is ill and she wants to see her ‘baby’ get married before she goes. We wanted to wait another year to plan, but oh you know how it goes!”

Walby looks at you sheepishly as you blink a few more times and let his words sink in. You look at the man and try not to throw up from sitting upright. You must have been out for a while, but not in a “oh that was a wonderful beauty nap” kind of way. You are pretty sure you have a decent amount of blood caked to the side of your head and neck right now.

“Oh, well in that case,” you offer a good natured smile, “I’ll consider this the most unique wedding invitation I’ve ever received and one I may not even have the privilege of remembering.”

The man laughs heartily as you stand up and brush your clothing off. You’re glad you wore a nicer outfit today and decided to bring your violin along- Oghma must have wanted to make sure you were prepared.

“I also wanted to ask a favor,” he says meekly, “if I haven’t fallen out of your good graces before I even stepped foot in them- that is.”

You smile and just roll your eyes.

“Consider it water under the bridge. How can I be of service?”

“Well, you see- we had asked an acquaintance of ours to play music and uh. There’s no easy way to put this, but he was run over by a herd of Deep Rothé.”

“Hmm,” you say with a snort, “tough crowd- Deep Rothés.”

Ultimately, you agreed to perform for the ceremony and the little dinner party afterwards. Your music decorated the air with golds and silvers. Barcus was thrilled to have you there and thanked you immensely for allowing his mother-in-law to “witness true magic” before she leaves this plane.

By the time you were finally leaving- you hear two very familiar voices scream your name and come barreling towards you.

*****************************************

Astarion and Gale are practically sprinting as they try to track your location through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. They had just found a large spot of your blood sticking to the cobblestone and leading to the sewer. Astarion feels sick when he notices the path leads back into the Crimson Palace. Thankfully it was through the sewer and straight to the tunnel of the Underdark.

He had sent you a letter a few days ago and he had confessed his feelings. Instead of waiting for you to respond like a sane person, Astarion got the hell out of the inn he was staying at and began the four day trek to Baldur’s Gate. The nice part about traveling alone and not needing to breath is that Astarion could run from place to place if he was in a hurry or was just fed up with traveling already.

Astarion quickly learned that it was boring to be alone and it’s far more fun to share adventures with you. He also learned that he might be a semi-decent person on his own because, in spite of being without your physical presence, he continues to fucking help people. Astarion is really over this whole moral compass thing (it only extends so far though, he’s still a proud Bastard at heart).

When he arrived at your home about an hour and a half ago, Gale had informed him that you had gone out to the Market and was confused when Astarion said his letter shouldn’t have arrived yet. It took longer than usual to write for… reasons.

Gale showed him the note you received and the two of them pieced together that someone had definitely set up a trap- just not a very good one. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose when Gale told him that you definitely figured out the letter wasn’t from him, but Gale encouraged you to respond anyway.

A part of him is incredibly worried that some of the remaining Bhaal cultists have taken you since they are the only people he could think of that would be able to mimic his form. His stomach still turns when he thinks about the time they realized Orin had taken you. This is giving him the same queasy feeling.

So imagine his and Gale’s surprise when you are walking away from some random spot seemingly unscathed. Except Astarion won’t believe that until he has inspected you for injuries himself.

You look positively shell-shocked to see him and even more surprised when he’s taking your face gently in his hands and begins to check for injuries.

“Are you alright, Darling?” He says in a far more panicked voice than he means to, “we found blood- I thought the worst and your idiot brother! Of course that letter wasn’t from me! I have class, my Dear! I would never use that paper and WHY IN THE HELLS WOULD YOU FOLLOW ME OF ALL PEOPLE!?”

He knows his ‘rage’ doesn’t sound like rage- it sounds like a man who thought his only love had been on the brink of death only moments ago. Astarion is trying to keep a serious face, but the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at him is making him want to dissolve. He’s thrilled to see that after a whole year of not being together that your feelings haven’t waivered. Neither have his, obviously, but that’s why he’s here.

“I will say, Tav,” Gale says with exasperation, “you even gave Tara a fright- you should be expecting a very long lecture when we get home.”

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you say with a beaming smile, your eyes never leaving Astarion’s, “but I do have quite the story if you would like to hear it?”

Astarion’s grin stretches across his entire face.

“I think a good story, better company, and some wine would make for a fine evening, my Dear.”

“Gross!” Gale says, “but I’ll tag along for some wine.”

Oh dammit.

****************************

If Astarion wasn’t so busy feasting upon you- then he probably would have already hunted down those stupid Gnomes that gave him a fright and found a windmill to fling them from. Gale had left only 15 minutes ago, but Astarion had made quick work in getting you up to his room and having his way with you.

The minute Gale left, the conversation became flirty and teasing- all the want that has been pooling in his body is finally getting the release it needs. You, like always, are a sight to behold.

Your back arches when his tongue drags along your clit and Astarion pushes your hips down into the mattress as your arousal paints his lips. Your moans and desperate cries of pleasure are so delicious and his cock is painfully hard, straining against his leather pants.. He is fighting between taking his time and being selfish- chasing his own pleasure inside of you.

The moment you clench around his fingers is the same moment he unlaces his own pants and begins to remove them. You keen and whine underneath him- Astarion’s name sounds the best coming from you in this state.

Astarion should be a gentleman, hypothetically, and maybe give you a half a second to be a little less dazed from your orgasm. Except Astarion isn’t a gentleman and he isn’t patient- at all.

Astarion lifts your hips up to his until the head of his cock is aligned with your entrance and he thrusts himself inside of you. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips with a yelp of pleasure and your eyes flutter wildly as you take his whole length. Astarion smiles down at you as he slowly rocks in and out of you.

Your fingers find their way to his hair and you pull Astarion’s face down to yours- stunning him with a mind numbing kiss. He snaps his hips at the sensation and the moan you let out causes whatever resolve he had to break. Astarion releases the hold you have on his lips and kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“Did you like that, my Love?”

You hum in approval and try to pull his mouth back to yours. He interrupts you by thrusting into you two more times with more power than the first one.

“Asta-,,” you attempt to say his name between thrusts, “Astarion please.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Pet,” he teases, “I don’t even know if I know what you like anymore- maybe you don’t even like thi-“

Your legs tighten around his hips as he goes to pull completely out of you. Astarion quirks his eyebrow at you with a smirk as you look at him with desperation.

“I more than liked it- I loved it,” you whisper with your cheeks burning from your shyness.

Oh and how Astarion loves your shyness. His hands fist the sheets as he starts his agonizingly slow rhythm inside of you again- whimpers falling from deep within your chest.

“See, Darling,” Astarion says as his face falls into the crook of your neck, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before Astarion’s hips begin to pick up speed and his mouth covers yours. As much as he loves to hear you moan- he doesn’t care to share that experience with any of the patrons that had been obviously checking you out while you were catching up.

Astarion groans against your lips as he continues to fuck you relentlessly- his fangs nip at your lower lip and lap at the tiny droplets of blood that seep from the punctures.

You are a mess underneath him and you feel incredible in every way possible. Astarion never wanted this to stop in the first place- back when he had told you his feelings and you said it would be best to be friends for the time being.

Perhaps that’s what causes him to slow down and kiss you deeply- making up for the lack of speed with more force. One of his hands trails along your chest and begins to tease your sensitive nipples- your walls clench around him hard when he begins to pinch and roll the right one and your orgasm coats him as he moves to play with the left.

You kiss him sloppily and he’s lazily thrusting into you- his own Little Death following yours within seconds. Astarion collapses on top of you as he begins to soften inside of you. The smell of you and him mixed together is intoxicating and your heartbeat is hammering from the pleasure- your eyes glassy and tired with bliss. He laughs breathily before placing a kiss on your swollen lips.

Astarion lifts you up ever so slightly so that he can pull the blanket down and over you, then he adjusts himself and you so that you are curled up with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair absentmindedly and you lightly draw shapes on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you say sleepily, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Astarion says while pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m happy to be home.”

“Oh I’m sure Baldur’s Gate is-“

“You are my home,” Astarion interrupts you, “I’ve come to realize that wherever you are is where I want to be.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and happiness in your heart.

“But what about exploring your new life and all of that jazz?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for you,” Astarion states, “you helped me kill Cazador and break the cycle of ongoing abuse. You gave me life so I could live it and I want to live it with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just being friends and holding back my feelings. I want to share my life with you.

“I know this may all seem very fast, but” Astarion grabs his pants off the ground and he feels his stomach turn as he pulls the box out of his pocket, “I know I love you- that’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my entire 239 years of existence. I- I wanted to know if you would… marry me?”

Your lips are on his within seconds and the two of you become entangled in soft kisses until you have to pull back for air. You lean your forehead against his and meet his gaze.

“I love you so much, Astarion. Yes- yes I will marry you,” you say tearfully, “I want to share my life with you too.”

183 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 11 months ago

Note

Hey, I just got another idea: Deacon introducing his new girlfriend to his kids over dinner and game night.

But from the point of view from one of the kids (as a little challenge😊)

- 🥰

This is such a cute idea! I wrote it from Lila's perspective (1st person POV) and it was certainly a challenge; I haven't written 1st person in a while. I hope it turned out alright, and thank you for the request and the challenge, I enjoyed writing this! Please let me know what you think and enjoy! :)

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, I imply that Annie is dead but I think you could read it differently. bad writing?

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

EDIT: Part 2 Here

A/N: Writing from Lila's POV was harder than I thought it would be, but I kind of like how it turned out for some reason? Feel free to send feedback or constructive criticism; I admit that this isn't my usual writing style but I'm open to suggestions for improvement!

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Rules & Info

The Kay Princesses

Dad has been smiling more. Matthew thinks it’s because his friends at work are doing a good job, but I don’t know if that’s it. Sometimes, when Dad gets home after work, he isn’t smiling, but then he looks at his phone and gets all smiley. Maybe Dad likes his new phone. Or he found a new game!

“Hey,” Dad says as he opens my door. “Ready for dinner?”

When we walk together, Dad always holds my hand or carries me. Today, he tosses me over his shoulder and makes me laugh. Whatever it is that makes him happy, he's more like he used to be.

“Before we eat there’s something I need to talk to you about,” Dad says as he puts me in my chair. “So, a few months ago I met a girl.”

I knew it.

“She’s… she’s amazing. We’ve been getting to know each other and doing fun things. But she and I think it would be nice for her to meet you.”

“Are you replacing Mom?” Matthew asks, crossing his arms. (I want to kick him. Can’t he see Dad is happy?)

“Not at all,” Dad says, smiling at Matthew. His face changes as he adds, “If you don’t like her, then nothing else will happen. Okay?”

Matthew nods, but Dad’s smile is gone.

“Dad? Is she like mom?” I ask.

“Kinda. She’s also smart and beautiful, but she’s different.” His smile is back. “She likes different things, she talks differently. But she is going to love you guys.”

“We might not love her,” Matthew grumbles.

Dad takes a funny breath before tapping the table and walking to the kitchen to get dinner.

“Stop being mean,” I tell Matthew.

“He shouldn’t be talking to someone else. She isn’t Mom and I don’t want her around.”

“She’s not replacing Mom,” Samuel says. “Dad said so.”

“Well, he is. If they’re dating and they get married, then she’ll be our stepmom, meaning replacement,” Matthew says meanly.

“Dad said he’d stop seeing her if we wanted,” I remind him. “But we should meet her first. We might like her.”

Matthew rolls his eyes, which makes him look weirder than usual, and nods. I’m excited to meet her because if she makes Dad smile, she must be extra special.

“Here you are, Samuel,” Dad says when he sets Samuel’s plate down. “Matthew, Princess Lila.”

“Hey, why is she a princess but I’m just Samuel?” Samuel pouts.

I laugh at him, and Dad says, “Why am I not King Dad?”

“Wait, can I see a picture of her? What’s her name?” I ask.

Dad tells us her name, and it’s pretty. Then he shows us a picture of her, and she’s as beautiful as her name.

“She looks like a princess!” I say.

“No, she doesn’t. Princesses wear big dresses and crowns,” Matthew argues.

I want to kick him again, but Dad smiles at Matthew and puts his phone away.

✯✯✯✯✯

Matthew and Samuel are in my room with me when she gets here. I watch out the window as Dad opens her car door and squats to talk to her.

“I’m going to meet her,” I tell my brothers.

“Dad will introduce us,” Matthew grumbles.

I don’t listen to him, so I walk down the hall but stop when the door opens.

“What if you’re wrong?” she asks.

Dad closes the door and laughs. “I’m not,” he answers. His voice sounds different, happier.

“They’re going to hate me, David.”

Dad laughs again, and I peek around the corner. His arms are around her, and she’s leaning against him.

“They’re not. Everything will be fine.”

“I just want them, and you, to be happy,” she says quietly. “Even if that doesn’t include me.”

“Hey,” Dad says, the same way he does when I’m sad or after I get hurt. “I want you here. I’m happy with you. And the kids? The kids are going to love you.”

“Even Matthew?”

“Especially Matthew.”

She laughs at that, for some reason, before she steps back from Dad.

“We’ll be right back,” Dad whispers. He steps around the corner and stops when he sees me, shaking his head and smiling. “Go say hi.”

While he goes to my room, I step out and wave at her.

“You must be Lila. You’re even prettier than your dad said,” she says. She’s kind, like Dad said.

“I am Lila. My dad says that you’re smart and beautiful and going to love me and my brothers.”

“Well, he’s right about the last thing.”

“How did you meet my dad?”

“We just ran into each other one day. He was working and I was nearby.”

“Can we be on a team for game night? I haven’t been on an all-girls’ team in a while.”

She smiles, which makes her even prettier, and says she would like that. My brothers come back, and Dad introduces everyone to each other while I sit beside her.

“Why do you like my dad?” Samuel asks.

“He’s really good to me, and for me. I think he’s the best guy I’ve ever met.”

She looks at Dad while she talks, and he smiles at her. I like her. She doesn't treat us like little kids, and I like that.

“Why do you want to replace our Mom?” Matthew asks.

She looks at Dad before she answers. “I don’t, Matthew, I promise I don’t. Your dad has told me about your mom, and she sounds amazing.”

“Then what do you want to do?”

“I want to be with your dad and try to make him happy like he makes me happy.”

“By replacing my mom,” Matthew says as he gets up and walks away.

She looks up at Dad, but they’re not smiling anymore. Dad raises a hand and nods before he follows Matthew. I put my hand in hers, and she looks over at me.

“Do you love my dad?” I ask her.

Her smile returns as she says, “I do. More than anything.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Dad hugs her tightly on the porch before she leaves. I stand beside the window so I can see and hear them.

“If they don’t want me here, I understand. They’re the most important things in your life and they shouldn’t be uncomfortable or upset. I understand if you don’t want me to come back and we can be friends, right?”

“That’s not going to happen. We’ll work through it. Lila loves you.” That’s true. “And Samuel thinks you’re great. Matthew, uh, Matthew just needs some time.”

“I get it. Take all the time you guys need. You’re worth waiting for, Deac.”

They get quiet, and when I look outside again, Dad holds her while they kiss. He pulls back and wipes her face. I think she’s crying.

I decide to help Matthew with his time and walk into his room.

“We need to talk.”

“You always need to talk,” he says.

“Why don’t you like her?”

“You wouldn’t understand, Lila.”

“Who says? You won’t let me try.”

Matthew sighs and rolls away from his comic book to look at me.

“No matter what they say, even if she isn’t a replacement, she’ll end up in Mom’s spot. And I don’t want that.”

“Why not? She’s nice and she loves Dad and he loves her.”

“What are we doing?” Samuel asks as he comes in and sits beside Matthew.

“Talking about Dad’s girlfriend. Matthew doesn’t like her,” I answer.

“She’s nice, and super fun,” Samuel says. I nod and look back at Matthew.

“I never said I didn’t like her,” Matthew says quietly. “I just don’t want her to replace Mom.”

“She can’t replace Mom. They’re so different. It would be like another Mom, not a new one.”

“She even said that she can’t replace Mom and wouldn’t try to. She wants to make Dad happy, which involves us being happy,” Samuel explains. Matthew and I look at him, confused by his wording. “That’s what she told me,” he adds.

“So, you do like her?” I ask.

“I do,” Matthew says quietly. “I’m just scared.”

“There’s nothing to be scared about. Dad loves us and would never do anything without telling us or making sure we’re okay. That’s why he brought her to meet us. You should give her a chance.”

Matthew nods and stands up. “Let’s go talk to Dad.”

We walk together to the kitchen, where Dad cleans up after dinner and game night.

“Dad, can we talk?” Matthew asks.

Dad dries his hands as he nods and waves his hand toward the couch. When we all sit down, he sits on the table in front of us.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

I look at Matthew because I know he’ll answer the question. “We like her,” he admits, “and I’m sorry for being mean.”

“It’s okay, bud. This is a big change and you’re allowed to have questions and need time to think,” Dad says, putting a hand on Matthew’s leg.

“Is she coming for game night again?” Samuel asks. “Because I want to be on her team this time.”

“No, I do, she’s good,” Matthew argues.

Dad laughs and pats their knees. “If you want, she’ll come for two game nights so you can take turns.”

We nod together, and Dad smiles. She said she wants to make Dad happy, but I think she already is.

“Thank you for meeting her and being open to new things, guys. It was very grown up of you.”

“I didn’t get to tell her she looks like I princess,” I remember.

“You can tell her next time, munchkin. Maybe she’ll even play dress up with you… if you ask really, really nicely.”

That sounds amazing. I can’t wait to see her again. Maybe getting a new mom could be even better than I thought.

✯✯✯✯✯

I can hear Dad talking after he tucks me in. Dad says her name, so I must check if she’s back so soon. Creeping down the hallway, I realize I can only hear Dad.

“I told you Matthew would like you. He just needed to figure out that you’re not trying to replace Annie,” Dad says. “They really, really like you; they want you to come back for game night so you can be on Samuel and Matthew’s team next time.”

He’s quiet for a while before he asks, “Are you crying?” And then, “Are you sure? Because even when you said no it sounded like you were.”

Dad laughs like he used to, but a little different. I guess that’s how the whole thing works: he’s happy but differently than before because you’re different, and now he’s different.

“I told you they’d love you,” Dad says, “just like I do.”

They really do love each other. Dad made a good choice, and we did too.

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s finally game night again, and Dad and Matthew have decided to treat it like a “do over,” so they’re acting like they haven’t met her before. I think that’s funny, but I’m glad that she’s coming back either way. I’m by the window watching for her while Dad and Matthew set up the board game.

“She’s here!” I tell Dad.

He thanks me and then walks to the door. Matthew follows him, and I turn to watch. Dad opens the door and smiles.

“Hey,” he greets, a weird tone he only uses for her breaking through. “This is Matthew.”

Matthew shakes her hand, and they smile at each other.

“Nice to meet you,” Matthew says. “Sorry about before.”

“No apology necessary, Matthew. It’s very nice to meet you, too. Your dad has told me lots of good things about you.”

“Really? Like what?”

“He said you’re really good at tonight’s game. So, I was wondering if you’d want to be on my team? I need a lot of help.”

“Sure!”

Matthew leads her to the table where the game is and shows her where he’s sitting. Dad looks at me and winks.

“Dinner first, Matthew,” he says as he walks by. He drags his hand across her back as he passes her. He never did that with Mom, but she isn’t Mom.

“Will you be on my team next time? I get to choose the game next week,” Samuel tells her.

“I’d love to!”

While we eat dinner, she answers our questions and asks us some too. She tells us about where she’s from, her job, her favorite food, and (my question) who her favorite princess is.

“Who is your favorite princess, Lila?” she asks.

Dad smiles at her every time she asks us a question. By dessert, it feels like we’ve known her forever. She agrees to come over just to hang out with me, and I feel great; I stick my tongue out at Samuel, and he laughs at me.

“You take the first turn and I’ll watch,” she whispers to Matthew when we start playing his favorite game.

She watches him and asks him a few questions, then watches Dad as he takes his turn.

“Hey, when do I get to be on your team?” she asks Dad, smiling at him.

“You’re always on my team,” he answers, winking at her.

“Gross,” Matthew whispers.

His eyes widen, and he apologizes quickly before she and Dad start laughing. She tells him it’s okay and asks for his help with her turn. When she’s not talking to us, she looks at Dad.

As he walks her to her car, he kisses her, and spins her around. She’s always been pretty like a princess, but Dad loves her enough to treat her like one, too.

#david deacon kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay fluff #david deacon kay #deacon kay #swat cbs #requests #🥰 anon

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allthesmutl0vers · 3 months ago

Text

Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked. (A Wincest fanfic.) Chapter One

NSFW. 18+. MDNI.

Pairing: Wincest + half-sister.

Summary:

Life was good for y/n Everhart, not perfect, but close to it. She lived the perfect life that Sam and Dean dreamed of their whole lives. Nice house, rich, friends, the white picket fence life. She had friends, not many but the circle she kept was close knit and stuck together. She got bullied for how she dressed and the music she listened to, but she never backed down from a fight, and she never lost one either.

All of that changes when her mom- her best friend in the world, is brutally murdered. And she is sent away to live with the only living blood-relative she has.

Her father John Winchester.

A man who came into her life only a couple of times a year, and never stayed. Not only does she know next to nothing about him and what he actually does for work, but she also has no idea that she has two half-brothers, Sam and Dean, who seem a little too close at times. And she’s determined to find out why.

Afterall, all secrets inevitably come to light. And when they do, y/n will have a choice: join in or remain on the outside looking and wanting in. No matter how completely forbidden and entirely fucked it is.

With two months until her eighteenth birthday, she’s going to have to find some way to pass the time until she is free to leave with her inheritance, and live the rest of her life as far away from them as humanly possible. But will she still want to when the clock runs out? Or will she stay for the love she shouldn’t want?

“You can choose the comfortable, or the meaningful. Choose Wisely.”

Content and Trigger Warnings

Wincest: Sam and Dean are full siblings, and the reader is their half-sister. John is the father of all of them.

Explicit and on-page sex scenes.

FM, MM, and FMM

Snowballing (Do yourself a favor and Google it, or don’t and be surprised.)

Orgasm Denial and Overstimulation

Extremely Possessive Sam and Dean

On-Page Violence, Gore, and Death

Voyeurism and Exhibitionism

Semi-Public and Public Sex

Gun Play

Knife Play

Blood Play

Damn, you’re still here?

Read the next line.

Good girl.

Now, start reading.

Chapter One

Y/n

“All packed?” The police officer asks me as I gather my bags by the front door. His smashed-in pug face looks down at me as he leans against the door, and it takes everything in me now to smash it against the doorframe over and over again.

I take a deep breath and force a smile. “Yup, all done,” I respond. A rumble comes down the long driveway to the home I’ve lived in my entire life. A black four-door Chevy Impala that I see maybe once or twice a year.

“Looks like your dad is here,” the pug face cop says like it’s not the most obvious thing in the fucking world. He lifts his big body off of the wall with a grunt and leans down to grab my bags. “Let's go,” he instructs as he walks out the door with one of my duffle bags.

I look behind me one last time, soaking in every memory I had here growing up. Outback is the swing set my mom would push me on as a kid. The window by the couch would always squeak when I would sneak out and back in, threatening to wake up my mom when she’d fall asleep downstairs. The stairs where I broke my arm because I thought a cardboard box was a sled on a snowy hill. So many memories are in this house, very few of them with the man who claims to be my dad. None with the two half-brothers I just learned about when John called and told me I was coming to stay with them.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smell of lemon and lilies. The smell of home. My home that isn’t mine anymore, not now that mom is dead. I choke back the ball in my throat and force the tears not to fall. I won’t break in front of John, and certainly not in front of… What were their names again? Sean? Derek? Fuck, I don’t remember. Guess I’ll find out soon enough.

I sigh and walk out the front door, closing it behind me for the last time. I lug my other two bags down the porch while John talks to Pug Face.

“Let us know if you need anything. You can contact me at the precinct. My number is on the back of the card. Rest assured, we’ll find out who it was, and they will be brought to justice,” Pug Face says, handing John a card.

“Thank you. I’ve heard good things about the work you fellas do here in Graham,” John says as he puts Pug Face’s card in his jacket pocket. John turns to me, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a smile. “Hey, kiddo. Ready to roll?” He asks me.

I nod once. “Looks like it,” I respond flatly, throwing my bags in the back seat. Pug Face clears his throat, and I turn to look at him. His face only serves to make me even more angry. Maybe it’s because he’s the one who told me my mom was murdered, or maybe it’s because he was the cop who worked at my school as a security guard and busted me for skipping class to smoke weed under the bleachers. That was a fun conversation with Mom.

“Be safe, y/n, you’ll be in my prayers. We shouldn’t need you to testify since you weren’t there when the murder occurred, but you’ll have the opportunity to make a victim impact statement at sentencing.” Pug Face tells me as he pulls out the keys to his squad car.

“Sounds great,” I respond a little more sarcastically than I meant to.

Pug Face furrows his eyebrows at me, his jaw clenching. “Behave yourself,” he warns.

I roll my eyes and John reaches his hand out to Pug Face. “Well, we should hit the road. Thank you again, Officer…?” his speaking falters.

“Nolan,” Pug Face reminds him as he shakes John’s hand. “And sure thing. I’ll contact you when we have more details and a suspect in custody.”

John smiles with tight lips and turns to me. “Let's hit the road.”

I climb into the passenger seat of his Impala, close the door, and put on my seatbelt as John starts the engine. In the side mirror, I watch my childhood home grow smaller and smaller before John turns onto the road, and it disappears completely. I sigh and lean back in my seat.

“Are you hungry?” John asks me a little while later.

I shake my head. “No, I ate before I left,” I respond, keeping my eyes out of the window.

“Alright, well, we’re not stopping until we get to Spokane, so I figured I’d ask,” he responds flatly.

My eyebrows lift slightly in annoyance. “Spokane it is.”

I watch out the window. Meridian turns into WA-162, then I-90 once we get toward Seattle. I don’t mind John that much. He isn’t the type to have pointless conversations just to fill the silence. Instead, he plays music in the car as he drives, old rock and roll, but I don’t mind the music that much either. I know quite a few of the songs that play and silently tap my fingers on my thigh to the beat.

“Almost there,” John says when we exit the freeway and enter the city of Spokane. “I’m stopping for dinner, you have a preference?” he asks as he turns onto the main street.

“Anything is fine with me,” I shrug.

“Pizza?” he asks.

“I’m pretty sure pizza falls under the anything category,” I retort with a smirk.

To my surprise, he laughs. “That it does,” he responds, pulls into a Pizza Hut, and puts the car in park. “Do all-meat and supreme fall into that category, too?” he quips.

I nod once. “That they do,” I smile for the first time all day. I unbuckle and open the door. “I’m coming in, too. I’ve had to pee since Ritzville.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” John asks as he gets out of the car, too, and shuts his door.

“You said you weren’t stopping until we got to Spokane,” I shrug and open the restaurant door.

“Yeah, well, I would’ve at least pulled over so you could pop a squat,” he chuckles.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “I’ll remember that,” I respond before leaving him to order and making my way to the bathroom.

I wash my hands and walk out of the bathroom once I’m done. I look around and find John waiting at a table on his phone. I pull out a seat across from him and sit down. “It’ll be about ten more minutes before it’s done,” he says to me without looking up.

“Great. I’m going to wait outside. I need a smoke,” I respond, standing back up.

John looks up from his phone and gives me a questioning look. “Smoke what, exactly?” He asks.

I shrug. “Just my vape. I’ll be by the car.” I tell him, pulling my Geek Bar from my pocket.

Joh nods once. “Stay by the car,” he instructs me.

I roll my eyes. He was barely in my life growing up, and now he wants to play the father act. Whatever. “Sure thing,” I tell him before walking back outside.

I lean against the car; the metal is hot under my t-shirt, but thankfully, the hot sun has started to go down. I take a long drag off my vape and blow the vapor into the evening air. Was it really just twenty-four hours ago that my mom was alive? Where is she now?

I take another drag from my vape and realize I need something a little stronger. I make sure John isn’t looking and grab my dab pen from the back seat. I turn it on and take a big hit. The smoke burns my lungs and singes my throat, but I welcome the feeling. I blow it out and cough a few times into my elbow. I take another hit, and this time, the smoke doesn’t sting my lungs and throat as much.

I let out a long breath. My body feels a little lighter, and my thoughts aren’t as loud. Just the kind of relief I need right now. I mean, how else is a girl supposed to deal with her mom dying and suddenly being forced into a side of her family she knew next to nothing about?

I shove my dab pen into the pocket of my denim shorts when I see John come back out with three pizza boxes and some smaller ones stacked on top. “Let's go,” he says, setting the boxes on top of the car before opening the door, grabbing them again, and getting inside.

I get back into the passenger side and shut the door. I put my seatbelt back on and take the boxes when John hands them to me to hold. “And don’t think I didn’t smell that when I came out. Next time, try not to be so obvious,” he says, starting the car again.

“Aye, aye, captain,” I mutter as he pulls back onto the main road.

A few minutes later, he pulls into a hotel parking lot. The building is dated, but at least it doesn’t look like it’s infested with rats and cockroaches. From the outside, at least.

“We’re only staying for a night. Is there anything you need for tonight from your bags?” He asks as he parks and turns off the engine.

“Nope, I can sleep in this,” I respond. We get out, and he grabs the pizza boxes from me.

“Well, if you change your mind, you can come grab what you need. Or, I’m sure Sam or Dean can loan you something for the night.”

Sam and Dean, noted.

John opens the door to the hotel room and holds it open for me as I walk inside. Sitting at a small table by the window is a man- one of my half-siblings, apparently. He has shoulder-length brown hair and brown eyes that match mine and John’s. He smiles at me with the corner of his mouth over his laptop and nods his head once.

“Where’s Dean?” John asks, setting the pizza boxes on the table.

So this one must be Sam.

“Went to get ice,” Sam answers shortly. “You must be y/n,” he says, turning back to me. He stands up, and holy shit, this mother fucker is tall. “I’m Sam. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Sam says in a friendly voice, offering me his hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you,” I shake his hand, trying not to sound as awkward as I feel. But at least he didn’t go straight for a hug.

“Well, dig in. I’m going to take a shower,” John says, grabbing some clothes from a bag and walking into the bathroom.

Me and Sam each grab a paper plate and open the boxes. I take a slice of all the meat and a piece of garlic bread and sit down across from Sam at the table.

Sam clears his throat and wipes his hands after swallowing his bite. “So, um, how was the drive?” he asks awkwardly.

Great, so he’s one for small talk.

I shrug my shoulders and take a drink of my water bottle. “It was fine. John played music the whole way.”

Sam nods and chuckles. “Yeah, Dean does that, too. Sorry, he doesn’t really listen to anything different.”

“It’s fine. Do you listen to anything else?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Yeah, but don’t laugh,” he smiles.

The remark takes me a little aback. “Oh yeah? Try me,” I lift my chin.

“Celine Dion,” he smirks. I purse my lips, trying not to laugh. I’m not laughing at him. It’s just not what I expected. “I told you not to laugh,” he says as he laughs himself.

I chuckle and shake my head. “I’m not laughing at you, Sam,” I respond, but my laugh makes it a little hard to sound sincere. The dabs I took definitely helped to make me loosen up. “I listen to some different music, too.”

Sam raises his eyebrows, and he leans on the table with his elbows. “Really? Like what?” He asks.

“Don’t laugh,” I warn him with a smirk.

“I would never,” he chuckles teasingly.

My nose scrunches a little, and I smile. “Taylor Swift,” I admit with a chuckle.

Sam blinks a few times and I watch as he looks me up and down once, probably not believing me from how I dress. I can’t say I blame him. From my makeshift muscle tank from an old and ripped Linkin Park shirt, the studded belt on my denim shorts, my fish-net stockings under my shorts, and my beat-up vans, I probably don’t look like a Taylor Swift fan.

His eyes land back on mine, and he goes to say something until the door opens behind me. “Hey, Dean,” he greets my other brother. “Dad’s back with y/n,” he says.

I turn around to look at him, and his green eyes land on mine. Dean looks me up and down once and turns away, putting the ice container on the counter without saying a word. I bite the inside of my cheek.

Well, hello to you, too.

When Dean turns around again, he grabs a plate and takes five slices of pizza before kicking off his shoes and plopping down on one of the beds. “Where’s the remote Sammy?” He asks Sam.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Wherever you put it would be my guess,” Sam answers him and turns back to me. “Don’t mind him,” he nods his head to Dean.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I mutter and stand up, throwing away my plate in the small trash can by the door.

Dean scoffs as the bathroom door opens, and John walks back into the room. “Oh, good, I see you met Sam and Dean,” he says, putting his old clothes into a bag.

“Yup,” I respond flatly, my buzz wearing off.

“Hardly,” Dean scoffs and turns on the TV he apparently found the remote to.

John sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Dean, we talked about this,” John says like it’s the millionth time.

“You talked, I listened,” Dean responds with an annoyed tone of voice.

John rubs his nose between his eyes like he has a headache. He lifts his head and turns back to me. “You can take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll take the couch,” I tell John.

Dean laughs sarcastically. “Then why’d you come?” He asks, finally looking at me.

“Dean!” John snaps at him. My ears and face get hot. Fuck Dean, fucking asshole.

I straighten my back and glare at Dean. “Because he told me to come. Can you say the same?” I fire back.

Dean’s eyes flare, and his jaw ticks. “Fuck you,” he spits back at me.

“Dean! Enough!” John yells, slamming his bag down to the floor. “For fuck’s sake, enough!”

“Fuck this shit,” Dean says as he stands up and marches to the trash can right beside me. “Move,” he demands, reaching for the door behind me.

I roll my eyes and step to the side, allowing him a small path to get through. Dean shoulder-checks me on his way out, pushing me against the wall before he slams the door behind him.

Fuck you, too.

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Don't worry, smut is coming! I just wanted to establish the story.

Please help a fellow and new Wincest writer out with a reblog; I would be eternally grateful. 🫶🥹

Chapter Two

#wincest #weirdcest #weirdcore #sam/dean #samdean #spn spicy fanfic #sam and dean #supernatural fanfiction #spn smut #spnfandom #spn fanfic #supernatural smut #supernatural #lemon #18+ mdni #mdni

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babydollmarauders · 1 year ago

Text

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 6)

au masterlist

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, dougieham, and 237,029 others

y/ndevils00 HAPPY REGULAR SEASON!!!

WELCOME BACK TO THE SPECIAL EDITION: JACK HUGHES SHOW!

OUR MIGHTY FINE DEVILS WON 4-3 AGAINST THE MICHIGAN BIRDS!

tonight, my beloved, apparent bad boy, got TWO goals, but more importantly TWO penalties!! i love when he does good things, but i love when he does bad things even more!! even if the first penalty WAS a bit of a chintzy call, i still loved seeing him locked up 🥰

my favorite autumn tree got his first goal of the season tonight, and i couldn’t be prouder! you go, ginger snap!

my sweet bratt also got a penalty for interference, which makes no sense to me, and obviously not to him either- but alas, we persevered!

and last, but certainly not least, UNCLE HAULA-HOOP GOT AN EMPTY NET GOAL, WHICH SECURED OUR WIN!! THANK YOU, HAULA BACK GAL!

p.s. i’m sorry to Ellen, who i accidentally ditched to get a picture of her son in the bad boy box, and who also might’ve heard me call him a naughty slut— she laughed, but i think i saw a part of her die inside

tagged jackhughes, dougieham, jesperbratt, and ehaula

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jackhughes did you seriously post a photo of me COMMITTING MY PENALTY?

y/ndevils00 you chose violence. i love it. 👁️🫦👁️

trevorzegras hey those emojis look exactly like you

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras I WAS HAVING A GOOD NIGHT AND THEN YOU SHOWED UP

dougieham autumn tree?

dougieham wait, hold on, i got this….

dougieham trees are tall and their leaves turn red and orange in autumn. i am tall and a ginger (red/orange)! therefore, me = autumn tree

y/ndevils00 YOU DID IT!! 🥹 i think i’m even prouder now than for your goal!

john.marino97 no me? no dawson?

dawson1417 yeah, no us?

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 i have two words, eight letters.

dawson1417 “love y’all” ?

john.marino97 forgive him, he’s new to this

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 DO BETTER

dawson1417 oh :( but you DO love us, right?

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 duh, obviously

user26 DEVILS ARE SO BACK

jesperbratt i didn’t do anything 🙁

y/ndevils00 i know you didn’t, my little swedish meatball! I’LL FIX THIS!

jackhughes no you won’t

y/ndevils00 no i won’t :(

ehaula i’ve missed you, niece!! and unfortunately your puns too

y/ndevils00 IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME!! MWAHAHAHA

ehaula was that your evil laugh?

y/ndevils00 yeh

ehaula it was adorable

y/ndevils00 😠

ehaula @/kristen.haula isn’t she cute?!

kristen.haula our niece 🥹

user83 I WANNA BE HIS MOUTHGUARD

y/ndevils00 me first!

jackhughes why

elblue6 i promise, i didn’t die inside! call him a slut all you want!

jackhughes MOM?

y/ndevils00 you are my only true supporter, Ellen 🫶

nicohischier you didn’t call me any names! i used to pray for times like these

y/ndevils00 only because i didn’t get a picture fast enough of you bent over like me in the bedroom

jackhughes why do you say these things

nicohischier please stop talking

y/ndevils00 never. 🗣️ SLUT 🗣️

lhughes_06 i made it out unscathed 🙏

y/ndevils00 you wish

lhughes_06 wait, what?

y/ndevils00

liked by john.marino97, lhughes_06, and 234,641 others

y/ndevils00 i was so happy to meet so many of your wonderful faces on the red carpet!

i was just there to do my job (taking pictures of my boyfriend! god i love my job!) but so many of you asked for pictures with ME and it made my heart feel so full!

i never thought that accepting this job would mean finding a boyfriend, a brother (two! actually!), two amazing best friends, and apparently a family of supporters! i’m so grateful to have the opportunity to make a lifetime of memories with this amazing team!

go devils! but most importantly, go devils fans! this wouldn’t be possible without y’all!

tagged jackhughes, john.marino97, lhughes_06, and dawson1417

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user19 i’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you’re the one to thank for Jack’s new hair, in which case THANK YOU 🙏🫶

y/ndevils00 you’d be correct 😈 YOU’RE SO WELCOME

jackhughes ya know, I’M the one who went and got my haircut

y/ndevils00 yeah, after i played subliminal messages in your ears at night, telling you that you should go and get it cut

jackhughes you what?

y/ndevils00 you look so handsome, babygirl!

lhughes_06 my squishy!

y/ndevils00 MY SMUSH!

lhughes_06 you looked radiant tonight

y/ndevils00 aww, well you looked quite dashing, yourself!

lhughes_06 my sister ❤️

jackhughes she’s in the closet

trevorzegras she came out?

y/ndevils00 @/trevorzegras I’M CRYING, YOU IDIOT! i’m in the physical closet, not the metaphorical one!

trevorzegras oh! my b, bro

dawson1417 THAT’S ME!

y/ndevils00 that’s you!!

dawson1417 i’m also grateful you have this opportunity and that you took this job btw

y/ndevils00 THIS POST WAS NEVER MEANT TO MAKE *ME* CRY

dawson1417 please don’t cry, i’ll bring you a churro tomorrow?

y/ndevils00 suddenly my tears are gone

jackhughes no they’re not

dawson1417 @/jackhughes i’ll bring her a churro anyways

user73 I MET YOU!!! you’re so sweet, and gorgeous! i think i was even more excited to meet you than Jack!

y/ndevils00 ME? LOOK AT YOU, BEAUTIFUL GIRL!

jackhughes i feel like i should feel offended, but somehow i’m not because i’d be excited to meet dove too

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you’re so obsessed with me

user39 JOHN PICS 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ THANK YOU, Y/N!!

jackhughes my beautiful, crazy girl ♥️ i’m thankful everyday that you accepted this job and that you accepted the title of my girlfriend

y/ndevils00 aw, i love you to pluto, my sweet boy ♥️

y/ndevils00 p.s. if you’re so thankful, you should think about changing my title 🥰

jackhughes moments over

y/ndevils00 I’M JUST SAYING

_quinnhughes you didn’t hear it from me…. but he’s definitely thought about changing it

y/ndevils00 @_quinnhughes you’re my new favorite hughes

_quinnhughes i wasn’t already?

y/ndevils00 well, you were, and then luke bought me pizza

_quinnhughes pizza? PIZZA is all it takes?!

y/ndevils00 please captain huggy, have mercy on me, i was starving and your middle brother was trying to feed me chicken that wasn’t tenders or nuggets

john.marino97 grateful for you and the way you push me to d* b*tter ❤️

y/ndevils00 did you just censor “do better” ?

john.marino97 it’s given me ptdbs

y/ndevils00 ?

y/ndevils00 wait— “post traumatic do better syndrome”

y/ndevils00 i’m so smart 🥰

john.marino97 yes, you are! such a smart girl!

y/ndevils00 that feels like sarcasm but i’m gonna ignore it

#media management au!#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl fic #nhl imagine #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

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chaosclimber · 6 months ago

Text

baker

They took a bracing breath as they stepped off the plane and into the airport. Orpheus had asked Father not to tell Mama about their gender–they wanted to tell her themself. They were glad, at least, that Robyn had come along for this trip–he wanted to see Greece, and it would be a good opportunity for Mama to meet him. Not to mention they’d have the support of at least one person who was already used to using their pronouns. Robyn led the way towards the luggage claim, letting them get lost in their own thoughts while slicing efficiently through the crowd rather than fighting against it. God, they loved how easily their brother did that.

It wasn’t long before they spotted Calliope, waiting patiently to meet them. “Mama!” They smiled, forging ahead and hugging her tightly.

She smiled, wrapping her arms around them for a moment before pulling back to hold them at arms’ length, studying them. “Oh, you’ve grown so much! Next time you come, you’ll be taller than me, and then what will I do?”

They giggled just a little bit. “Stand on tip-toe when you hug me, like you do with Father?”

“Certainly. Ah, well, let’s get you boys home and settled, shall we?”

Orpheus could feel Robyn glance at him as Calliope led the way. They shook their head slightly–they hadn’t mentioned anything about it, yet, they weren’t going to get upset about anything gender-related. They followed her to the car, helping Robyn to get their combined luggage into the trunk, then settled in and buckled up. “Mama…can we talk when we get home? Just you and me?”

“Of course, darling. Once you boys settle in, I plan on making some baklava. You can join me. I’m sure your aunts will happily keep Robyn occupied.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I think I’ll take some time and settle in–maybe take a nap. The plane ride was too awesome for me to miss any of it and we had to get up insanely early for it.” Robyn chimed in. He knew exactly what Orpheus planned to discuss, so…it was a good excuse, to give them the privacy they wanted.

“Suit yourself.”

An hour later, Orpheus emerged from their bedroom, padding his way down to the kitchen. Calliope had just finished blitzing the walnuts in the food processor, and was mixing in a deliciously-smelling healthy dash of cinnamon and nutmeg. They took a moment just to breathe the warm earthiness in, remembering how she used to make it all the time when she lived with them. They missed those days, sometimes–at least the good parts. They missed how their voice sounded blending with her warm alto.

But they also knew the divorce was for the best.

“I got the loud part over with, so you wouldn’t have to deal with it.” Calliope smiled when she saw them, and gestured for him to come join her. “If you make the honey syrup, I can start assembling the layers. Everything’s measured out, you just have to combine them on the stovetop, bring it to a boil until the sugar dissolves, then down to a simmer for four minutes. Got that?”

“Got it.” Orpheus slid into place, stirring together the sugar, honey, lemon juice, and water. They were quiet for a moment, watching the mixture as it came to a boil. “Mama…you would love me no matter what, right?”

“...Of course, Orpheus. You’re my son!” Calliope paused from laying out layers of phyllo to look directly at them. “Nothing you could say or do can change my love for you.”

“Well…it’s just…I’m not your son, really.” She was really staring now, stricken–God, that wasn’t what they meant. “Sorry, that came out wrong! I just mean I’m not a boy.”

“...Oh.” She grew quiet, furrowing her brow as she turned back to the pastry. She was buttering each layer rather more aggressively than they remembered. “...And your father hasn’t seen fit to get you puberty blockers? Or hormone therapy?”

“Mama.” Orpheus managed to actually sound stern at that. “I’m not a girl, either, so transitioning isn’t exactly straightforward. Father is supporting me the way I want, right now. I’m…not sure I love all the changes that puberty is throwing at me, but I don’t want to just stay a child, either.” They took a breath, focusing back on the syrup for a moment. It was time to turn the temperature down, let it simmer for a while. With that done, they turned back to their mother. “I wanted to tell you so you’d know who and what I am. Not to give you or Father any ammunition to use against each other. I thought you two had gotten to be friends since the divorce, anyway?”

“...You’re right. I’m sorry, Orpheus, I was just…surprised.” She sighed. “...How did my child grow to be so wise?”

“I had two very good examples in my life. Even if they found they couldn’t live in the same household.” They smiled. “Some good’s coming from it, at least. We’re talking to Desire a lot more often. I think Father may have actually gone to them for advice when I first came out.”

“Really?” There was a hint of laughter in her voice, now, and she started layering in the spiced nuts. “Well, I’m glad it’s proven good for their relationship. But how are you coping with it?”

“It…has made school a little tougher. But honestly, the kinds of people who were gonna bully me over this were already bullying me because I’m autistic, so. Hasn’t really changed all that much.”

She made a distressed face at the mention of his bullies, pausing to pull him into a side-hug. “I’m sorry you’re having a tough time at school, darling.”

“...It’s ok. Robyn is actually a pretty good defender, all in all. It’s…actually how we met. And honestly I think we were siblings before our dads got it together and realized they were head over heels for each other. It’s been nice.”

@domaystic

crossposted on AO3

#dreamling #the sandman #calliope #orpheus #orpheus is nonbinary #coming out #domaystic2024 #house at pooh corner #robyn gadling

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underground-secret · 9 months ago

Text

The Hunter and The Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: Sam, Dean, and Y/N investigate a haunting in an abandoned asylum rescuing two teenagers who ventured in, they become trapped with the spirits of those who had died in a riot decades ago, one of which was a doctor who causes extreme rage in his victims.

Warnings: Cannon violence, murder and mentions of suicide, arguing, banter, usage and mention of guns, ghosts, panicking/ anxiety, a little bit of angst

A/N: There will be a confusing part where your like who is she talking about and to that I say all in due time. Also i’m sorry it seems like i’m giving up on this (I didn’t realize I posted the last part a month ago) IM NOT i’m just super busy with school, if you’ve taken APUSH you get it—i’m fighting for my life.

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44, @bonkydarnes, @star-yawnznn

Word Count: 11,033

Asylum

(Master list, Previous Ch., Next Ch)

I let out a big sigh, slumping in my chair as I do so, my head falling onto my laptop's keyboard, “How is your dad moving from place to place so fast”, I grumble into the keys. “Literally how!” My head shoots up as I complain, looking at Dean who sat across from me with his head propped up on one hand as he stared down at his fathers journal.

His eyes meet mine even as his head faces the book, his stare tells me everything I need to know. He’s also very frustrated, certainly more than me and he too has no answers.

I contemplate slamming my head against my keyboard when Sam walks back into their hotel room. His phone clasped tightly in his hand after he just went outside to call several people. “Caleb hasn't heard from him?” Dean asks his approaching brother even though the answer is written on his disappointed face.

“Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Paster Jim. What about the journal? Any leads in there?” Sam shoots back, referencing people the Winchesters knew. I had heard of them too, most of them really good friends of the boys but I never actually met them.

Now it’s Dean's turn to answer and complain, “No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out.... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like frickin’ Yoda.”

“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person’s.” Sam sighs, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“But isn’t he like, you know…wanted?” I ask, considering being a Hunter comes with breaking a lot of laws, like a lot. “That and Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail” Dean adds.

Sam’s face contorts into anger, “I don't care anymore.” Suddenly a cell phone rings from across the room, Dean's phone to be exact who immediately goes over to his bag. Sam huffs something between a sigh and a frustrated grunt, “After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean...he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and...nothing.”

“I know!” Dean yells loudly, snapping, the sound echoing off the ill painted walls. He rummages through his duffel rougher, “Where the hell is my cellphone?”

“You know, he could be dead for all we know.”

“Don't say that!” He snaps again, “He's not dead! He's – he's…”

“He’s not dead, your father is good at what he does. I'm sure he’s just caught up in something.” I tried to reason, turning in my chair so I could face both boys.

“Like that’s a good excuse” Sam spits back.

“Hey, I never said it was! But it certainly is a better and more optimistic view than death!” I lecture, my face scrunching up in offense.

“Huh.” Dean mumbles quietly getting our attention, “I don't believe it.” His words stopped Sam from saying anything further to me. His focus turned back on his brother, “What?” He asks.

“It's, uh....It's a text message. It's coordinates.” Dean answers and it’s clear who the message is from. I want to turn to Sam and say ‘Ha! told you so!’ but I hold back on the childish, but totally correct, notion. Before Sam can say anything snarky about the message Dean cuts him off, “Can I steal that?” He asks me to point to my open laptop. I nod my head quickly, “Go ahead.”

He walks back over to the table turning my laptop until it’s facing him and where he sat. “You think Dad was texting us?” Sam asks as his brother types away.

“He's given us coordinates before.” Dean answers.

“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.”

“To be fair, a toaster and coordinates are pretty different. All you need is a paper map” I cut in, earning a hard glance from Sam. I could not explain why he suddenly had a problem with me other than the fact I disagreed with him, which in that case makes him just as childish as I wanted to be.

“Sam, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least.” Dean adds, arguing.

“Well, was there a number on the caller ID?” Sam pushes, still somehow convinced it isn’t his Dad which when I think about it is pretty harsh. Would he rather his dad was dead? Probably not.

Dean answers, “Nah, it said 'unknown'.”

“Well, where do the coordinates point?” Sam follows up.

“That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois.”

“Ok, a little random, but what’s specifically so interesting about Illinois?” I ask this time.

“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” He turns my laptop around with a news article zoomed in on a black and white photo of a cop, “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum.”

“Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?” Sam asks, again I want to say something about him asking a dumb question but I hold back not wanting any more sass from him or anyone.

“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see…” He scoots my laptop back, pulling open his Dads stuffed journal that sat on the table. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths – till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”

Sam snorts, “This is a job... Dad wants us to work a job.”

Dean shrugs, “Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?”

“Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.” Sam snaps back.

“Does it matter? I mean we know it’s a hunt and we get to help people. I don’t see a loss in going.” I say, half shrugging.

“This doesn't strike either of you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?” Sam argues, his head snapping from his brother to me. It’s a good point to be honest but what else is there to do? Though I do not make that question vocal.

“Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'.” Dean yells, final word. Sam makes a nasty bitchface and sighs, saying nothing more.

I lean against the cold exterior of the Impala, my arms crossed against my chest to fend off any bit of the cold night even with my layers on. I could go inside the car but standing outside, right at the front of the car, felt more productive while waiting for the boys to finish their whole “skit” for information.

Dean would go in and antagonize the partner of the cop from the article which would inevitably fail. So Sam would be waiting there telling Dean, who he pretends to not know, to (in a lack of a better word) f- off so that Sam could weasel his way into questioning.

A very complicated plan for a bunch of dummies. I sigh again, my eyes closing in the progress, I try to force the tension out of my body, all the arguing infecting my usual good mood.

I open my eyes back up only to round the car and find it locked. My head falls forward, my chin touching my chest, of course Dean would lock his precious car. I glanced around me, barely anyone lingering outside except some people up against the bar smoking or leaving to go elsewhere, no one was looking so I gingerly tapped the handle, a swirl of purple mist leaving my fingertip until it slithered its way into the car and its mechanics. With a satisfying click the little lock pokes up, I grin as I pull open the door leaning in only to rustle through my bag and pull out my book.

Dean would have to forgive me, though my little trick did nothing to harm the car to begin with. I push down the lock, jabbing into my palm as I do so, closing the door behind me I make my way to the front of the car once more leaning against it as I open up my worn book of Little Women for the hundredth time. The pages had long begun to yellow though it only went as far as a light yellow, still the crisp smell of an old book wafted into my nose, serenity finding me.

Suddenly the bar door slams open, startling me for a moment after getting lost in the prospect of an escape. Dean quickly walks over to where I was waiting looking extra grumpy, his eyebrows scrunched together with his arms thrown out, “He pushed me so hard!” He nearly yells, his choice of words were childish at worst and yet it was very amusing. “Why are you reading that again?” He asks, suddenly pointing at my book.

“‘Cause I love it” I smile simply.

“Haven’t you read that a hundred times?” he asks, moving next to me, leaning against the car too.

“Give or take” I laugh lightly, “It’s one of my many comfort books.” I mark my spot before shutting the book. “I’m guessing your silly plan worked?” I ask him as he leans closer to me. He gives me that devilish smirk, “Not silly if it worked, sweetheart.”

Some time later Sam exits the bar, “Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy” Dean spits.

“I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting.” Sam bites back, just tension building on more tension. But there’s only so much the atmosphere or people can take before it blows up.

“Huh?”

“It’s like immersing yourself emotionally and psychologically with your character” I whisper before closing my book shut. But instead of clarity crossing over Dean's face he looks just as confused if not a little more. Sam sighs, “Never mind.”

“Okay so what’d he tell you?” I ask.

“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him.” Sam explains. Basically nothing to suggest him suddenly committing a murder suicide.

“What about at home?” Dean shoots back.

“He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.” Sam answers, I frown at the last part there was a whole life they could have lived.

“Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him.” Dean acknowledges.

“Well did anything happen as of supper recently that would even hint to a psychotic break?” I ask even though based on what we have it didn’t seem likely.

“No” Sam shakes his head, “Not that he mentioned at least.” I nod my head making a small mental note of that possibility, although unlikely, just in case.

“What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?” Dean questions.

“A lot.”

A loud horn blares from a nearby truck as Sam makes his way over the tall fence. With Dean slightly ahead of me I begin to climb the chain linked fence, I get a small jumping start clutching on to the cold fence. I shove my shoes into the little groves as I make my way up swiftly, being able to lift my legs high enough that I could make it to the top in about four moves. I balance myself on top of it before swinging my leg over it, I reposition myself to dangle slightly as my feet find purchase in the fence when about half way down I just decide to jump the rest of the way, landing on my feet in an almost crouched position.

The asylum itself didn’t look like it was falling apart but the overgrown bushes on the plot, the moss covering the building and the boarded up windows were a tell-tale tell sign enough that it was abandoned. The only thing keeping it from being entirely creepy was the early morning sun.

The door had no lock on it most likely from all the trespassing. But just as the door fell open an immediate musty smell hit my nose from all the trash covering the floor from beer bottles and cans to random bits of paper. Every surface of the walls was covered by either graffiti or mold, only small hints of the old green wallpaper left behind. “So apparently the cops chased the kids here....into the south wing.” Sam points to the sign hung over the door. The letters were mostly peeling, just another sign of the aging building.

“South wing, huh?” Dean breathes out, “Wait a second.” He pulls out his Dada journal from the inside pocket of his coat, flipping the pages until he found whatever he was looking for, “1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”

“So the South Wing seems to be the route of this all” I remark.

“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?” Dean points out, looking up from the journal. Sam notes the rusted, broken chains hanging from the handle of the door, “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years.”

“Yeah, to keep people out. Or to keep something in.” Dean comments.

I cringe, “Is it really necessary to say such ominous things?”

“What? It’s the truth” Dean shrugs and I roll my eyes.

“Are you guys done?” Sam asks looking at us impatiently

“Yeah yeah open the door” I say before quickly adding a mumble of, “I hope a rat jumps out at you”

Sam looks at me with a mix of being offended and being annoyed, “Why would you say that?”

“Sorry!” I say half meaning it, “It’s an abandoned building and all so you know…rats”

“Just” Dean starts, him being the annoyed one now, “Open the door.” Sam nods, carefully opening the rusted door with a creek revealing a long creepy hallway, but at last no rats scurry out. The long hall was somehow only slightly better than the entrance with the walls peeling of its paint, most of it replaced by mold which only increases as the hallway extends, if we get sick we’ll know why that’s for sure.

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.” Dean jokes, lighting the mood as he pulls out his EMF reader, referencing the movie Six Sense. “Dude, enough.” Sam groans.

“I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.” Dean says. Without missing a beat, Sam bites back, “I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell.”

“Anything going on with your EMF?” I ask, hoping to change the subject. “Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home.” Dean answers.

“Well, spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day.” Sam adds.

“Yeah, the freaks come out at night.” Dean comments.

The room falls quiet for a moment before Dean speaks up again, “Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?” Sam pushes his brother in response. “Oh definitely Jennifer Love Hewitt, I mean did you see her in Shortcut to Happiness ‘cause…wow” I answer before quickly adding, “No offense Sammy.” But Sam pushes me lightly too, a laugh bubbling up from my chest as I nearly knock into the moldy wall.

We enter a room that smells worse than the main entrance area, the culprit of the rotting flesh smell most likely being whatever pink goop is spilling out of a glass jar with liquid on a table in the far corner. This asylum was truly amazing at one-upping itself in terms of being horrible. The entire room is bad itself, all sorts of equipment they used on patients long ago when they had no clue what a mental illness really was or how to help people who struggled with it.

“God, they did such horrible things to these poor people” I remarked, stepping deeper into the room. The sight of a clearly used surgery table sending a shiver down my spine. Dean lets out a low whistle, “Electro-shock. Lobotomies…”

“Did you know JFK’s sister got a lobotomy done because she suffered from seizures and mood swings. But it only wound up leaving her permanently incapacitated and unable to properly speak, only goes to show how little they knew about all that stuff” I say, recalling a fact I remember reading about somewhere in an article.

“‘That one of your fun facts?” Dean inquires, clearly humoring me. I hum a “mhm” as I bend down slightly to look at a glass container filled with some sort of yellow liquid. I almost expect something equally as gross to be inside but there isn’t.

“So. Whaddaya think? Ghosts possessing people?” Dean asks out loud to no one in particular.

“Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting.” Sam answers, listing out examples of cases in which people claimed the devil had told them to do something bad and or possessed them. “Or Son of Sam, though that guy was just a basket case who admitted to lying about that demon bit” I add.

“Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.” Dean quips in, always with his references. I look up from the vials of I don’t know what to see him grinning, a smile forming on my own face at his charming expression.

“Dean.” Sam calls out, gaining his brother's attention, “When are we going to talk about it?” Uneasiness slips its way into the cracks of the building, finding us. “Talk about what?” Dean asks back, but I have a feeling he knows what he’s talking about, it was clear as day. “About the fact Dad's not here.” Sam answers, already clearly annoyed. I straightened up, moving an inch closer to where they stood in the middle of the room in case I had to break up another fight. It hadn’t been anywhere close to a week from the last time I had to do so back in Kansas. “Oh. I see.” Dean replies, “How ’bout...never.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “I'm being serious, man. He sent us here…” Dean cuts in immediately, “So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later.” They moved closer to each other with each word they spat, up until they got close enough that they would be able to throw a punch if they decided to. “It doesn't matter what he wants.” Sam argues.

“See. That attitude? Right there?” Dean points at him, “That is why I always get the extra cookie.”

“Guys come on, you can argue this later let’s just finish this hunt” I sigh, crossing my arms across my chest. Sam glares at me as if to say “stay out of this”, I get why they’re upset but all this arguing gets us nowhere and it’s beginning to get annoying. Sam turns back to his brother, “Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.”

“I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order.” Dean replies rather calmly. I don’t necessarily like John, knowing everything he put my boys through made it hard to. But he was their Dad and Dean wanted my help and so I will help find their Dad, even if I mostly agree with Sam. “So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?” Sam spits, and I almost hate the fact that I do agree with him.

I try to ignore their arguing, knowing they wouldn’t let up, it wasn’t the sort of argument where someone won. I open a drawer near me, cobwebs and multiple clippings from old patient files filling it. “Of course we do.” I hear Dean answer.

I carefully take the clippings out, trying to avoid the cobwebs. I look through the handful quickly everything either ripped off or eradicated except bits of the Doctor's name. “If you're done over there it seems the main evil doctor was ‘Sanford Ellicott’. We should probably research him and the south wing, see what we can find” I say plainly, hoping this could all be over with soon so at least they would stop fighting.

I keep my legs up on the soft chair, my knees to my chest as I read my book. Dean is sitting next to me, his arm resting on the back of my chair, his legs spread widely. From my peripheral vision I see him stare up at the ceiling clearly bored as we wait for his brother to be done in therapy, or really done questioning the apparent son of Dr.Ellicott.

He groans, the noise coming from deep in his chest. I put my bookmark back in my book, shutting it and putting it next to me. I put my arms on my propped up knees lying the side of my face down on them, my cheek squishing against my arm as I peer at Dean. The immediate thought of how good he looks with his head thrown back, a very light stubble gracing his face, his eyes looking greener with the light shining from behind us and—

I shove the thought far into the back of my mind, it wasn’t the time for this not at all. Not even a little. “‘You okay?” I ask softly.

He rolls his head to the side, eyeing me “Sammy’s taking too damn long. He’s already pissed me off.”

“He wouldn’t be taking long unless it was necessary” I answer, smiling at his demeanor. He groans again, “Do you wanna go get coffee? I saw a place a block away, Sam can text when he’s done.” I offer, hoping it would distract him from being so pissed off. He leans his head up, squinting at me, “Is this your attempt at curing my boredom?”

“That depends, is it working?” I squint back at him as I lift my head from my arms, laughter threatening to bubble from my lips.

“Yes” He nods, throwing his hand on my knee, “Let’s go” but he keeps his hand there, a giddy nervousness settling itself in my stomach.

“See I told you couples therapy works!” a hushed voice says catching our attention. I look up to see a red headed girl and her tan boyfriend walking past us without trying to hide their stares, “Wer— we aren’t—“ I try to say loud enough for them to hear but my voice doesn't reach them, “Actually” I sigh, my face feeling warm, “it’s probably best if they just go to therapy.”

I turn my head back towards Dean, finding him already looking at me with scrunched eyebrows, studying me as if he was contemplating something. I place my hand over his, only realizing then my hands were cold when compared to his warm ones, “Ready?” I ask softly. He clears his throat abruptly, nodding his head as he removes his hand from my knee and gets up. I make sure to grab my book as I follow suit, but we only reach the door when a familiar tall figure walks right past us.

Dean's body language changes, he turns back to me confused and annoyed before pushing through the door. Tension clearly already has made its home in his back and shoulders. “Dude! You were in there forever, we were about to leave you. What the hell were you talking about?” He calls out towards his brother, easily matching his pace.

“Just the hospital, you know.” Sam answers plainly. I jog to catch up to them and their stupid long legs, “What’d you find?” I ask.

“The south wing? It's where they housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane.” “Sounds cozy.” Dean remarks.

“Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other.” Sam elaborates.

“Any deaths? Dean follows up.

“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott.”

“Did they…stuff him somewhere. I mean I feel like the place is only so big, right?” I hesitantly say.

Sam shrugs, “Cops scoured every inch of the place.”

“That's grim.” Dean murmurs just as we reach the Impala. “Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down” Sam says as he rounds the car.

“So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies.” Dean lists out.

“And a bunch of angry spirits.” Sam adds

“Cute.” I remark, sarcastically.

“Let's check out the hospital tonight.” Dean finishes, opening the car door.

I shine my flashlight over the asylum, naturally in the darkness of the night it was far creepier than it was only hours before. I follow behind the boys as they enter the dingy entrance, making sure I don’t hit into the duffle bag hanging from Dean's shoulder. “‘You guys getting anything?” I ask since they hold the equipment. Dean holds his EMF reader out in front of him, “Yeah, big time.”

“This place is orbing like crazy.” Sam adds, looking at the screen of the camera he holds. “Eww, why would you say it like that?” I cringe before mimicking the way he said “orbing.” Sam turns around slowly, glaring at me “How mature of you, Y/n” he deadpans. “Hey i’m just calling it as it is” I respond in defense. He glares at me one last time, turning back around and I hear him mimic what I said. I’m about to hit him on the arm when Dean starts speaking, he looks between us, ultimately choosing to ignore our childish behavior, “There’s probably multiple spirits out and about.”

Sam added “And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…”

“We gotta find ’em and burn ’em.” Dean finishes, “Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.” With that we keep walking until we hit the same room we were in the last time we were here, not having gone any further than that the first time around.

We walk a few feet further separating into three different rooms. I scanned my flashlight over the dark room, it had no windows though even if it did it would have been boarded up meaning no natural light to begin with had it been daytime. It was a relatively small room with more graffiti lining the originally white walls. I take a single step into the room, glass crunching underneath my shoe, I lift my foot immediately, kicking the broken glass bottle to the side.

I move further into the room, an overturned desk and a long gone broken lamp on the floor. Must have been a little office, I think to myself as I walk over to the desk finding a small knocked over filing cabinet. I nudged the metal cabinet with my foot, testing to see if anything wanted to make an appearance…like a rat.

When nothing comes from it I twirl my finger, an invisible force turning the cabinet right side up making it accessible. I pull each draw open, still cautious of any critters crawling out, hoping that there would be some hint as to where to look for the unfound bodies. “Y/n” I hear my name called out from behind me.

“Yeah?” I say turning around but there’s no one there. I shine my flashlight first on the doorway, only shadows dancing on the outskirts of my light. I purse my lips, a small pinch of fear forming itself in my heart. I move my flashlight slowly to shine in the corner, every hair on my body standing up. An old man with deep sunken eyes stands in the corner, his body permanently hunched over with his head tilted to the side. Countless needles stick out from his ghostly body, piercing through his hospital gown.

My mouth goes slack with an almost scream in warning to the boys. Still the man doesn't move, he just stares at me which is arguably worse than if he lunged at me, his mouth moves as if in an attempt to say something but his jaw is broken and the words come out in an extended noise. “b….b…b—“ The loud sound of a shotgun goes off just across from the man, my head snaps in the direction of the doorway, a breathless Dean standing there his gun still pointed at the man. “We thought something happened!” Sam half yells, standing right behind his brother.

“I literally haven’t moved from here” I respond, looking back at the corner where he stood. “You okay sweetheart?” Dean asks. I nod, “Yeah, I mean he didn’t do anything he was just—“

“Standing there” Sam finishes my sentence, “See I told you!”—he nudges his brother—“There’s something weird with the spirits here, they aren’t being aggressive-“ I cut him off this time, concern and confusion making my eyebrows scrunch together, “Wait you encountered a spirit?”

“You didn’t hear Sammy scream for us? Or the gun?” Dean asks. I look between them only being more confused, “No, what are you talking about?!” Except they don’t answer, only looking at each other and then back at me, eyes wide, “Alright something really is going on” Dean admits.

They begin to shuffle out of the room, and I follow, we walk aimlessly down the hall in thought when suddenly a noise like metal scraping against the floor comes from a room just steps away. Dean immediately raises his shotgun, carefully entering the room with Sam and I acting as the lightning. The room had a singular upturned bed facing the only window in the small room, a ragged sheet covering the bed barely concealing the top of a blonde head. We all share a look, bracing ourselves, Sam reaches out tipping over the bed causing it to come down with a loud crash. A young girl sits crouched on the floor, panting and grasping her chest.

“It's alright, we're not going to hurt you. It's okay. What's your name?” Dean asks the poor girl, moving his gun down and away from the girl. “Katherine. Kat.” She answers, peering up at us with her big brown eyes.

“What are you doing here!?” Sam half yells at her. I hit his arm, “You suck at comforting people” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear, nearly missing the glare I received in return. I move past Dean leaning down towards the girl, offering my hand to help her up. You can comfort someone without making them seem incapable. She eyes me carefully for a beat before shakily reaching up and taking my hand, “Um. My boyfriend, Gavin” she answers as I lift her up. “Is he here?” Dean asks.

She lets go of my hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears, “Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts” she explains, "I thought it was all just...you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and... “

“Alright.” Dean responds, pausing for a beat as if to go over the plan he most definitely already made, “Kat? Come on. Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend.”

“No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you.” Kat declares, looking frantically between us all.

“It's no joke around here, okay. It's dangerous.” Dean lectures, his voice getting increasingly louder. “That's why I gotta find him” she answers, her voice stern and straight regardless of being clearly shaken up. Dean meets Sam and then my eyes, “Alright, I guess we gunna split up then. Y/N with Sam, Kat with me. Let’s go.”

I lead the way out this time, Sam right next to me as we go down hallway after hallway. Each one seemingly more intricate than the last, if that was even possible. I hope Sam is keeping track of where we are because I’m already lost.

“Gavin?” I call out, peeking around each hallway corner. Is it possible he left? No he wouldn’t leave his girlfriend, right? Though the asylum is huge and he could be anywhere—“Y/N! Over here!” Sam calls out from down the hallway to my left. I swirl around heading towards him, crouched down near a rouge hospital bed, I hear him speak as I approach “Hey, Gavin. It's okay, I’m here to help.”

“Who are you?” He responds, fixing his brown hair as he pushes himself away from Sam knocking into the wall behind him in the process. “My name is Sam, that’s Y/N” he gestures towards me, “Uh, we found your girlfriend.”

“Kat?” He asks his brown eyes widening, he gets up revealing his height. He isn't as tall as Sam, probably closer to Dean's height then anything but he was certainly taller then me and his girlfriend. “Is she alright?”

“Yeah. She's worried about you. Are you okay?” Sam responds.

“I was running. I think I fell.” He lifts his hand to the side of his head, his corduroy jacket moving with him. “What were you running from?” I ask.

“There was...there was this girl. Her face. It was all messed up.”

“Okay listen, did this girl... did she try and hurt you?” Sam follows up, asking carefully. “What? No, she...uh…”

“She what?” Sam asks, impatience on the tip of his tongue.

“She...kissed me.”

…The hall falls silent, neither of us expecting that to be his answer. I’ve never heard of a case in which someone was kissed by a ghost. I mean that’s just disgusting and horrifying, no amount of mouthwash can fix that…or therapy. “Uh...um...but...but she didn't hurt you, physically?” Sam finally says.

“Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!” Gavin yells, his eyes widening again. “Well, trust me, it could have been worse.” Sam replies, again not much on the comforting side. Plus I feel like I’d rather be thrown ten feet then kissed by a ghost. “I’m sorry we have to pressure you like this now after you just experienced that but is there anything else you remember?” I ask softly.

“She uh...actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear.” He answers shyly, almost embarrassed by all this. “What?” Sam shoots back.

“I don't know. I ran like hell.” He answers truthfully.

“That’s the third encounter without an attack” Sam thinks out loud. Gavin glares at him sharply, “Oh…Um…besides the…Uh…kissing” Sam adds.

“Can we really trust that the South Wing really did have violent patients? I mean the workers here aren’t exactly the most reliable considering everything they’ve done to these poor people” I mention.

“She’s got a point” Gavin intervenes. We both look at him, “Um yeah. But what if they were trying to tell us something?” Sam says.

“You mean like some hint as to where uh…” I look over at Gavin knowing I can’t exactly say a rotting body somewhere, “you know is” I mumble looking back at Sam. “Yeah” he answers just as a loud scream rings out from afar. We all share a look of confusion and worry, “That sounds like Kat!” Gavin says. Not waiting a second later we go off running in the direction of the screaming, just about everything you're not supposed to do.

Just down the hall Dean is banging on a huge metal door with a pipe. “What’s going on?” Sam asks just as we approach.

“She's inside with one of them.” He answers his breath a little labored. Kay screams again, “Help me!!”

“Kat!” Gavin yells back banging on the door.

“Get me outta here!” She shouts.

I hide my hand behind my hip making sure to look down, to avoid having to explain anything to Gavin later. With my concealed hand I reached it over to the metal door, my fingertips barely brushing the cold exterior before a hand wrapped around my wrist pulling it forth. “Wait” Sam said sternly, dropping my wrist. I turn my head to look at Dean with questioning eyes as if he would have a reason why his brother stopped me. But when I look at him he’s looking between my wrist and his brother, his eyes scrunched in offense and what may look like anger, upset he stopped me, because doing so might be risking an innocent girl's life.

“Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me. You've got to face it. You've got to calm down.” Sam commands, talking to Kat through the door. He must be thinking back to what we said before. “She's gotta what?!” Dean yells, astonished.

“I have to what?!” Kat shouts back.

“These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate.” Sam explains, indeed referencing what we were discussing before I just hope he’s right, “You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it.”

“You face it!” Kat snaps back. A smile threatening to show on my lips. “No! It's the only way to get out of there” Sam insists.

“No!” Kat screams.

“Sam, come on let me get her out” I say quietly hoping only those who know about my abilities can hear me. “No” He says towards me before directing his voice towards the door, “Look at it, come on. You can do it.”

She seems to listen to him, no more screams against his plan. We all wait impatiently, the air thick with anxiety, if this doesn’t work then we caused a very avoidable death. “Kat?” Gavin calls out.

“Man, I hope you're right about this.” Dean grumbles.

“Yeah, me too” Sam nods.

“No offense Sammy, but you should have voiced your concern before” I bite, crossing my arms across my chest.

Suddenly the door creaks open slowly, Kat peeking out. Her eyes are wide and blank, clearly startled and traumatized. “Oh, Kat” Gavin murmurs, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

Sam maneuvers himself around them, opening the large door further to get past them into the room. He comes back out not even a minute later shaking his head, whatever spirit was in there isn’t anymore.

“One thirty-seven.” Kay says suddenly, wiping away her teary eyes.

“Sorry?” Dean looks at her, puzzled.

“It whispered in my ear. 137.” She clarified.

“Room number.” The boys and I said in sync, our eyes wide in clarity.

“Jinx” I say quickly pointing towards the boys. Dean groans, “You always win.”

I beam, looking up at him, “You just always forget.”

“Yeah cause he’s actually focused on the hunt” Sam quipped, annoyed. “Hey I am foc-“ I try to defend only getting cut off by Sam nudging Dean and I down the hall out of hearing reach throwing a “Excuse us” to the two teens.

“Alright. So if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone…” Sam starts getting his sentence finished by his brother, “Then what are they trying to do?”

“Maybe they're helping us out” I shrug, “Giving us hints?”

“I guess we'll find out.” Dean huffs.

“Alright.” Sam confirms, nothing more to be said.

Dean separates from our little huddle calling out to the kids waiting on us, “So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?”

“That's an understatement.” Kat remarks.

“Okay.” He turns back to us, “Sam you get them outta here. Y/N were going to go find room 137.”

“Isn’t it best that I go with Sam?, make sure they can get out” I ask, not to say that I don’t want to go with Dean but still trying to be reasonable.

“If the spirits suddenly decide to get rowdy and gang up on me like they did Doc, I’d want you on my side” Dean answers, making a motion with his hands weirdly that I suppose is meant to represent my abilities. “Ok fair enough” I shrug, not needing any more convincing. Sam moves away towards Kat and Gavin. Dean and I waited until they were out of sight, getting led by Sam, before moving to find room 137.

We only move a few feet when I notice the lack of something in Dean's hand, “What happened to your flashlight?” I ask. He pulls back the side of his grayish-blue button down jacket exposing the thick flashlight tucked into his jeans, “Died jus’ before Kat got dragged into that room” he explains. I reluctantly drag my eyes back up to his face, a flashlight held in his jeans shouldn't have been hot, I give him a single awkward nod before forcing my eyes back in front of me.

“I think it’s down this way” He nudges my arm just as we get to the end of the long hallway, pointing left. I point my flashlight in that direction, the light illuminating the continuous mess of the asylum, “How do you know?” I ask. He shrugs, “Intuition.” I followed him down the hall even under the weak assumption, there were hardly any sign indicators and if there were they were unreadable due to destruction or graffiti.

I give him a look as we walk the hall, not finding the room. “I meant the next one over” he says with a stupid smile on his face. “Oh yeah of course” I nod, playing into whatever you want to call this.

He mumbles the room number underneath his breath, an excited-nervous energy surrounding him as we approach the supposed right hallway. It was adorable.

“Look who was right.” He says, his voice coming from behind me. I turn towards him an even bigger smile on his face, I lift my flashlight to shine where the number would be. “Let’s just hope the ghost wasn’t tricking us” I huff.

He goes to push the door open only to find it stuck on something, he grunts putting more of his body weight on the door until it’s open enough to let us through. The room is a mess (but what else is new for this place), filing cabinets pushed over, papers everywhere, the walls stained with something that I think I’d rather not know. I shine the flashlight around going over to one of the filing cabinets opening it to find manila folders, I flick through them. More patient files but nothing of use as of now.

I whirl around to find Dean crouched down in the back of the room, prying off a wooden panel. He finally gets it off with a loud cracking noise, “This is why I get paid the big bucks.” he murmurs, the only indication that he found something. “You don’t get paid any bucks” I responded.

He turns his head slowly to me in offense holding up a deteriorating satchel in one hand and a mess of papers in the other. He gets up handing me the stack of papers and with his foot drags up a nearby chair scooting it close for me before dragging up one for himself. I go through my stack, a bunch of drawn images of medical instruments like lobotomy pick, straight jackets and cuffs, and other drawings with no labels but incredibly detailed writing and drawings that were nothing more than torture. “This feels like a messed up book club” I comment.

“Yeah check this out. Dr. here believed that provoking extreme anger would be therapeutic.” He explains, “Seems like all he ever did was work on this theory.”

“I think I read a research paper from 2002 on a similar idea called catharsis” I explain, “It basically means venting out negative emotions, especially anger. However researchers found it did the opposite and more likely increased aggression. But I guess in this case he was forcing it rather than the patients venting out anger they had from past traumas or anything of the sort.”

I know he is listening to my rant, his eyes moving up from the book to look at me before going back to the journal, his eyes scrunched in concern at what he read, “All work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy.”

I nearly laugh when a sudden creak comes from the hall, I look to Dean to find him with just as a confused face as mine. He had heard it too. He makes a “give me” motion so I hand over the papers, he puts them and the journal he read from back in the satchel. Without saying anything I knew he was moving us to check up on Sammy.

We manage our way back to the room Kat got locked into, but from there it winds up being a maze as to where Sammy could be. Lefts and rights and accidentally going in large circles. “Alright one more hallway and then we’re calling him” I plead, getting frustrated at this stupid musty asylum. “Deal” Dean nods.

The floor was particularly bad in this hall, each step followed by a creak each one louder then the next. Just as we reach the end of the hallway and turn right, for a split second, Kat stands there shotgun raised at us, her finger on the trigger. She shoots. Dean throws himself backwards, his arm going out right in front of me pushing me back against the corner wall out of the way from danger. Both of us were up against the wall next to each other, his arm just beneath my breasts holding me in place. A large puff of white smoke looking substance flies out from the wall, bits of the wall crumbling to the floor just by Dean's shoulder opposite to the one near me. Acting as the only signs of where the bullet had gone.

Our labored breaths nearly matched each other's, chests heaving. His arm remains where it is even when no more shots ring out, he yells, “Damn it, damn it, don’t shoot! It's us!!”

“Sorry! Sorry.” Kat meekly cries out.

“Jesus Chri-“ I peered around Dean's body at the shot, she would have killed us. Impressive. I bring a shaky hand up to the arm that still held me, he drops his arm allowing me to move past him and round the corner to the people who nearly ended us.

“What are you still doing here?! You're supposed to be gone! Also, why are you good with a gun?!” I exclaim. Dean immediately adding, “Where’s Sam?” Our rushed voices combining for a melody of pressured questions.

“He went to the basement. You called him.” Gavin answers, pointing to Dean. “I didn't call anybody.” Dean replies, looking at me confused I shrug not having any idea myself.

“His cell phone rang. He said it was you.” Kat elaborates.

“Basement, huh?” Dean hums before turning to me, “I’m gonna go to Sam, get them out of here.”

“Wait no I should come with you” I say.

“I’ll be fine, sweetheart, just get them out of here” He orders, but his voice is soft where it should be commanding. He takes the gun from Kat and before I can say anything more he’s running off.

I turn towards the door, trying to think of the least suspicious way possible to open the door. A chain with a lock lies on the floor just in front of my feet. It must not just be a locked door, perhaps it is the spirits here keeping it closed. I pull on the door handle letting my powers seep into the large door willing it open. It opens with another pull, having to use a lot of strength to open the old door. “Alright let’s go” I say, turning to the two behind me. They look at me with a mix of shock and confusion, “How di-“ Gavin asks before I cut him off, “It was just jammed” I lie.

I follow them down the steps and watch them climb over the fence. I wait until I see them physically get into the car, both kids looking back almost hesitant to leave us behind. But I have no time to help with their guilty conscience, I turn back toward the building immediately running up the steps and back into the asylum. I curse not knowing which way Dean exactly went or where the hell the basement was let alone where a staircase was.

In the dim, haunting corridors of the abandoned asylum, panic pulses through me like a heartbeat. The suffocating air clings to my skin as I navigate the labyrinth that is this building. Every step feels like a hesitant dance with the unknown. I try to suppress the fear clawing at my throat, envisioning worst-case scenarios involving Sam and Dean. Could they be hurt, trapped, dead? My thoughts are a chaotic whirlwind, one that feels too overwhelming to control as pathetic as it sounds and feels.

Desperation fuels my movements as I sprint down seemingly endless hallways, each one a haunting replica of the last. It's a macabre maze, and my heart races with the urgency of finding the elusive staircase leading to the basement.

As I turn another corner, the harsh silence amplifies the echoes of my footsteps. "Sam! Dean!" I call out, my voice swallowed by the oppressive stillness. The only response is the distant moan of the decaying building. With determination fueling my every step, I press forward, driven by the desperate need to uncover the secrets hidden below. The dim light casts distorted shadows on peeling wallpaper, playing tricks on my eyes. Yet, I press on, the image of the elusive staircase driving me forward, my breath a rhythm of fear and determination.

As if the old building heard my pleas I spot a door just at the end of the hall, a medal bar for the handle and if it isn’t my eyes playing tricks on me then a small sign signifying a person walking up stairs lies on the small window on the door. I all but ran over, the thing I needed most lying right there. As I push open the door, anticipation and anxiety rests behind my rib cage, a reminder that finding the door wasn’t enough. I still needed to find them.

However, as the door creaks open, my heart sinks. Before me lies a staircase, but it ascends rather than descending. Everything that I do not need. I was being mocked. The staircase leading upward into the unknown when my every instinct demands a descent into the depths below.

I stand at the threshold, contemplating my next move. Panic threatens to resurface, but I force a deep breath, I know what I must do even when it is foreign to me. I had not trained in it, hadn’t studied it enough, so much of me was like that. So many abilities I could have and use but always dared to leave untouched, this being one of them. I knew only how to use it in such short distances, and only in spaces that I could see. Not like this.

But I’m afraid and desperate enough. I know the boys are very capable of taking care of themselves, yet an unmistakable fear lives behind my rib cage for those I love, a fear of losing them. I close my eyes. This staircase had to be close enough. My fear had to be enough. I force another deep breath, bracing my feet beneath me. I could picture the room around me even with my eyes sealed, focusing on how the walls stretched above me in my mind's eye.

I had not seen the basement, hadn’t a single idea what it even began to look like. Yet still I force my perception down, below the concrete laying underneath my shoes. But more than that I needed to find them, I try my best to picture them specifically even in an unknown location. The air seems to ripple around me, reality folding over itself.

I open my eyes, no longer in the stairwell but presumably in the basement. The only indication I’ve gone to the right place is the boy's only feet in front of me. What should be a triumphant moment is crushed under the scene in front of me.

Dean is on his back splayed across the floor, broken wall beneath him the concrete powder sticking to his clothes. Sam is standing over him, shotgun pointed down at his brother, I can not see his full face from here but I can see it is etched in anger. “Sam!” I yell, catching his attention. He turns to me, his face scrunched in disgust, he does not lower the gun.

“What the hell is hap-“ I try to ask but the gun goes off with a loud bang. Suddenly I’m in front of him, the bullets hitting the hall that laid behind me when I stood in the doorway. I teleported out of danger without a second's thought, I make a mental note for later as I punch Sammy square in the face, my knuckles hitting against his sharp jaw.

He stumbles back a few feet, my knuckles burn, he will have to forgive me later. I do not want to hurt him but I do need to stop him. I mumble a sorry, hooking my leg behind his, hitting into the back of his knee with my foot forcing his legs to collapse beneath him knocking him to his knees. I use his shock as leverage, easily pulling the gun from his hands, I point the gun at him even though I do not want to.

Dean groans still on the ground, only having leaned up from his position. Sam holds his hands up, “Shoot me” he spits. He was taunting me, testing me. “I have no need to” I answer calmly. He was possessed or influenced by the doctor here, this wasn’t really him, I knew that.

I hear Dean get up, panting and making small noises of pain. I look over at him from the corner of my eye, watching him hold just below his chest in pain, “You okay there?” I ask, earning a grumbled “yeah”. Dean drags himself to the front of the room where he must have dropped the duffle bag he was carrying.

In the corner of my eye I see Sam try to lunge towards me, I snap my attention back to him “Hey”,I warn, “Stop.” He looked even more pissed, his mouth twitching with words he wanted to say, “You think protecting him is gonna make him fall in love with you?” He says quietly. I check behind me but Dean makes no indication that he heard, I know it’s not really him speaking but the words still sting. “I’m not that diluted” I answered, turning back to him.

“You follow him around like a lost puppy, it’s pathetic” He laughs, “Really, you follow us around. But we don’t need you, we’d be better off without you. All you do is take up space.” The words bite into my skin, my heart suddenly feeling heavy. Losing my firm stance he grasps onto my ankle pulling it towards him sharply, knocking me on my ass hard. He punches me, his fist connecting with my nose, my eyes tearing up on its own accord with a harsh throbbing. He snatches the gun back when I hear movement towards us, without looking I shout back “I can take him, just find the body!”

Sam straddles my lap, his knees pinning my hands to the floor with an incredible amount of pain, and I can not pull my hands free. He grabs my chin roughly forcing my gaze on him, my neck leaning up at a weird angle, “You feel the need to be with us, it’s the only thing that fills the gap of being left behind your whole life.”

Hurt and anger burn my eyes. I move my face out of his hold and he lets me, I lean my head back before slamming it into his. The resounding clash of our heads echoed through the air, an abrupt collision that sent shockwaves of discomfort rippling through my skull. He loses slight balance, his knees leave my hands the feeling rushing back into them but I do not leave time for feelings of victory. I shove him back, using more force than I probably should have.

I stand up swiftly, stumbling over myself slightly, my head throbbing severely. “You” I point, breathing heavily, “Have a hard head.” He tries to reach for the gun but I kick it out of reach before he’s able to.

I knew Dean was close by even with the room being so large and divided, but I didn’t know how close he was to finishing up. There was a strong sense of dread in my stomach, I don’t want to fight anymore, maybe curl up into a ball and contemplate life but not fight. “Please, stay down” I beg, my eyes still teary from a mix of a reaction to the pain and just being upset.

He leans up, that horrible anger still etched on his face. I hold my hand up at him, extending my force outwards pinning him down with an invisible force. He struggles against it, his arms shaking. I grit my teeth, disgust tangling itself in my gut. Yes this was out of self defense and necessity but this wasn’t me. He was my friend, to restrain him in such a way…with my abilities…when I’m meant to help people.

I force my face away, a lump tight in my throat when I catch my reflection on a piece of broken glass in the far edge of the room. It was if I was being teased by the devil himself, staring at a reflection I wasn’t sure I even recognized. My eyes were fierce yet brimmed with tears, my pupils glowing purple. Where did this lie in morality? It felt wrong. So disgustingly wrong even if it was meant to be helpful.

Only a little longer, only until the remains were burnt and Sam was fine. “Y/N”

“Y/N!” He begs.

I turned my head back to him, the anger previously on his face melted away. I immediately release my hold on him, dropping my hand down swiftly. For a moment there it seemed fear had crossed his eyes, I took a step back lifting my hand to my forehead, a thin line of sweat wetting my face. My chest heaves, complete overwhelm filling my senses. I feel it in my bones this need to move, to get out. It had not taken anything out of me to hold him down, and that is what scared me the most.

Dean shuffles back into view, coming over and helping this brother up. When had he walked over here? I take another step back, their voices meshing together in a blob of incoherent sounds. A strong familiar hand grasps my upper arm, I look up at Dean, his eyes scrunched together in concern. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, but his voice seems so far away. I look over at Sam, a bruise already forming on his jaw a reminder of what I had done. I find no fear in his eyes any longer, not even as he rubs at the forming mark. I nod absent-mindedly at Dean's question, though it wasn’t true and he had known that too.

He gives my arm a firm squeeze before sliding it down slowly to my hand, intertwining our fingers together. I look up at him again, but his face is turned away already walking towards the duffel bag bringing me along with him. He doesn't say anything about holding my hand, not even as he leans down to the bag swinging it over the shoulder that is opposite to where I stand.

He leads the way out of the basement, Sam following behind us silently. I let him lead me, just staring down at our intertwined hands. His sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, ‘must have done that when he left us before. Holding hands wasn’t totally uncommon for us and we both happened to be touchy people, even so butterflies danced in my stomach.

When we finally reached the exit, the early morning sun had begun to shine through the clouds. Every one of our movements was done in silence, he let go of my hand only until we climbed back over the fence. The second both our feet had hit the ground he claimed it once more.

Just a short distance away Kat and Gavin lean against their car, my eyes scrunch in confusion. I thought they left. “What are you guys still doing here?” I call out from a few feet away. They analyze us, probably noticing the clear sign of a fight and who I’m holding hands with but I do not let go of his hand, and he makes no move to do so either. “We wanted to make sure you got out” Kat answers, crossing her arms across her chest, “And to say thank you.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Gavin adds in.

“No more haunted asylums, okay?” Dean replies. They nod and get in the car, this time starting it up.

“Hey, guys?” Sam says quietly as we begin to walk towards the Impala. He gets in front of us, walking backwards so we couldn’t ignore him, “I'm sorry. I said some awful things back there.”

I frown, not wanting to be reminded of something that happened only minutes ago. “You remember all that?” Dean scuffs.

“Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it.” He says making sure he directs it at both of us.

“You must believe it on some subconscious level…right?” I say. I do not mean to come off harsh or make him feel worse about himself, but he had to feel that way on some level. He doesn't say anything for a minute, and I suddenly feel bad for what I said, “No, of course not! Do we need to talk about this?” He insists.

Reaching the Impala Dean unlocks the car, opening my door with his free hand but I make no moves of getting in just yet. He lets go of my hand, moving to the back of the car to throw in the duffel before rounding the rest of the car to the driver seat. Just before he gets in he answers his brother, venom clear on his tongue, “No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep.” He slams the car door behind him.

I look over at Sam, total defeat written all over his face. I move past the car door moving right in front of Sam, he looked down at me expectantly. I wrap my arms around his middle and hug him. We will go to a motel and sleep the night off, and I don’t want to go to bed upset. His initial surprise wears off and he hugs me back, I pull away slightly. “You said mean things and I know you're sorry, but they still hurt… I’m not mad at you for thinking like that, I know you wouldn’t intentionally hurt us.” I say softly, I don’t like being angry at someone or holding grudges.

His eyes are filled with desperate sorrow as he says, “I’m sorry.” He hugs me tightly adding a quiet, “thank you.” And I knew he had meant for just talking to him about it even if it was only a little and for not hating him. We pull away from each other, and he ruffles my hair like an annoying brother before getting in the Impala. I move past the open door again, this time getting in.

Even after a nice hot shower and being all cozied up in the motel bed, sleep still could not find me. I groan frustrated, switching positions for the upteenth time, glad that I had my own room so as to not wake anyone.

I shift again, moving onto my back, the memories of what happened earlier playing through my head on repeat. Whether Sam meant it or not he was right. They didn’t need me, they were more than capable by themselves. Maybe I should go back home.

I could call Adeline, ask her if she could pick me up from the airport and take me home. The plane ride wouldn’t be so bad, I just have to figure out how to get to the airport with no car of my own. But that thought upset me more. I’d go home and worry over the boys excessively, where they were, how they were doing, if they were safe or even alive, if they found their dad. Maybe I was a burden to them.

God. And what I did to Sam? To use my powers like that?! Though I guess before the whole fight the teleporting was quite impressive especially because I am not skilled in that.

I want to be the best, but I'm afraid of what that would mean. What I would become.

I shift again, my feet tangling under the heavy covers. I sit up letting the blankets fall to my waist, and without thinking I pick up my phone dialing in her number. I had no idea what time it was in New York City but I knew she didn’t care about that sort of thing, she would pick up regardless of time or what she was doing. The phone barely gets to ring for a third time when she answers, “Hey Addie…”

#supernatural #fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #john winchester #slow burn #witch reader #witchcraft #dean winchester x witch reader #the hunter and the witch update #the hunter and the witch #dean winchester x f!reader #dean winchester being a cutie #dean winchester x you

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drpoisonoaky · 10 months ago

Text

Lala

When you realize you have a new weapon to make fun of your sister, you have to use it even though for you it isn't a weapon. At least that's how Zuko thinks about it.

Azula: I’m going to kill your friends and my brother.

Katara: Your brother is also my friend.

Azula: But it’s a different crime. And is that what you are worried about in the whole sentence?

Katara: You want to kill them a lot. Nothing new. But don’t.

Azula: Ugh.

Katara:

Azula: At least you could ask why.

Katara: Fine. Why do you want to kill them this time sweetheart?

Azula: I’m going to ignore your tone. They discovered the “Lala”.

Katara: Is another weird tradition of the Fire Nation or..?

Azula: It’s Zuko’s Zuzu.

Katara: Oh that Lala. I think it is cute. But isn’t new, right? Zuko calls you that a lot.

Azula: To them it is. And Zuko is enjoying it.

Sokka: When you come back to the Southern Water Tribe I’m going to force you to do penguin sledding.

Azula: Why would I eve-

Zuko: Hey buddies.

Azula: Don’t call me buddy ever again.

Zuko: Ok Lala.

Sokka: We were-

Sokka: Wait what, Lala? What is a Lala?

Zuko: You know Zuzu?

Sokka: Are you asking me if I know you? Did you hit your head or something?

Zuko: Not dumbass, the nickname. Azula calls me that all of the time.

Azula: We know, Zuzu. So penguin sledding?

Sokka: Forget that. Did he just call you Lala? Can I call you Lala? Oh god the mighty Azula, princess of the Fire Nation…AND WE CAN CALL YOU LALA.

[Azula proceeds to electrocute Sokka]

Zuko: That was unnecessary.

Azula, getting ready to throw another lightning:

Zuko: LALA STOP IT

Aang: Azula really did a great job in the meeting.

Zuko: She’s actually really good but she’s really mean.

Aang: Yeah, although I was thankful when she made all of those councilors shut up.

Azula: My pleasure Avatar. I always love to make a grown up man cry. Ask Zuzu.

Zuko: She certainly does. Especially when I’m in that group.

Aang: Anyway thanks for today. Right?

Zuko: Yes, thanks to Lala now we only have like 5 boring meetings to go.

Aang: Wait.

Zuko: There’s more?!

Azula: Oh no.

Aang, grinning: Did he just call you Lala? That’s so cute.

Azula:

Zuko: See Azula, that's so cute. You should appreciate it.

Azula: I will deal with Zuzu later but if you want to use that word again Avatar let me remind you I already killed you once.

Zuko: If you kill him now Katara would break up with you.

Azula: SHUT UP DUMB DUMB *goes away*

Zuko: That’s worse than Lala. But at least she’s angry for the next meeting.

Aang: The next meeting it’s going to be awesome.

Suki: All of my warriors are spread inside the festival so we are protected.

Zuko: Great. All set then.

Azula: Wait, what about the harbor?

Suki: We are protecting a festival inside the city.

Azula: If I want to attack a festival I would do it through the harbor cause nobody would be there. You bring a few water benders or a Katara and break it all in like 5 minutes.

Suki: I hate to say this but you’re right. Let’s relocate some of the girls.

Zuko: Good job Lala.

Azula:

Suki:

Azula: I’m honestly more angry by the fact you just praise me like a dog than the nickname.

Suki: Yeah Zuko. We’re grown ups.

Zuko: But-

Zuko: Suki, I am giving you a chance to laugh at Azula’s expenses.

Azula: And she’s a grown woman who is doing her job. Shush.

Suki: Yeah Zuko I’m busy now. When I finish I can laugh and use the Lala.

Zuko: It doesn’t feel like a victory.

[After sparring time with Azula]

Toph: I needed that. Being police is awful.

Azula: Well you are a gun for the government.

Toph: You are part of the government.

Azula: Not the government that has you as chief.

Toph: You and I? In the same government? We will have to stop a coup like every day.

Zuko: But unfortunately you both will stop them.

Azula: Of course we will, Zuzu.

Toph: What are you doing here, Zuzu?

Zuko: Came to see why we were hearing two people fight to death on a Wednesday afternoon.

Toph: I was beating a princess’ ass.

Zuko: And also Lala, can you look at these scrolls? I need a second opinion.

Azula: Sure let’s me clea-

Toph: LALA.

Azula: Shit.

Toph: HE CALLED YOU LALA. IT SOUNDS LIKE A FUCKING CHILD SONG.

Toph: ZUZU AND LALA I CAN’T.

[Toph is rolling while she’s laughing]

Zuko: For once, I didn’t say it to bother you.

Azula: For once, I believe you.

Zuko: I think she can’t breathe.

Azula: Whether she dies because she can’t breathe or she feels more relaxed after a good laugh, she deserves it.

Azula: I swear to Agni.

Mai: Don’t be dramatic.

Ty lee: Why are you so angry? It never bothered you so much before, Zuko has been calling you Lala for years. It’s cute.

Azula: I mean it doesn’t bother me if Zuko calls me that. But them. Feels like I’m a joke.

Mai: Lala sounds like a joke.

Azula:

Ty lee: I think what’s bothering you so much is the exclusivity.

Azula: Explain yourself.

Ty lee: When he calls you Lala it comes from your “bond”. When any other person calls you Lala they are probably trying to laugh at your cost.

Mai: That’s deeply complicated with only having 2 lines of information.

Ty lee: I manage all the feelings in this group. I’m well trained.

(many years ago)

Zuko: Why can’t you stop calling me that stupid name?!

Azula: Zuzu, it's cute. Nobody calls you Zuzu. I’m the only one who does it.

Zuko: Oh. That’s…okay you can call me Zuzu but

Azula: What?

Zuko, grinning: I’m calling you Lala cause nobody would call you that.

Azula: WHAT! NO! ZUZU.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #azula #fire siblings #katara #zuko #azutara #kazula #toph #mai #ty lee #sokka #suki #lala and zuzu #this came from the poll #so sorry or you’re welcome #i forgot to post this

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ninja-go-to-therapy · 5 months ago

Text

Bottle Branch Part 2

a previously unplanned part two to this

ao3

Trigger Warnings: kidnapping, mentions of death

846 words

Branch was drifting between states of consciousness, as was becoming more and more commonplace in the past however-long-he’d-been-here. It was nearly impossible to get any real rest, but he also never felt truly awake anymore. Having your talent drained out of you would do that to a guy, he’d learned.

He was curled up against the wall of his prison, seeking warmth where he knew there was none. He was so cold all the time, now…

Something thudded outside of the bottle, and he was roused from his not-quite-sleep. He sat up, staring in disbelief at the face-down troll in front of him. Who the hell was that?

The stranger got to his feet, eyes going wide as he locked eyes with Branch. “Bitty B?” He said, “is that you?!”

Branch’s heart skipped a beat, crawling its way into his throat. He couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t possible. “John… Dory?” He asked, voice hoarse. He must have been dreaming.

“Yes!” He exclaimed, all but lighting up, “it’s me! I’m here to get you out of… that thing!”

He laughed weakly, letting his head fall back until it lightly tapped against the wall he sat against. “I finally get some sleep and this is what I dream about.”

“Oh, this is no dream, baby brother. Well, maybe a dream come true, as I have arrived to save you! Hi-yah!”

He looked back up in time to see Dream JD’s body collide with the opposite wall of the diamond. He fell to the ground with a groan. “Ugh, okay, no biggie, let’s try… this!”

The pointless assault on the bottle was only giving him a headache.

“For the love of — stop, John.” He groaned, “fuck, this isn’t even real.”

“Of course it’s real! Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because I’m not delusional!” He said. The irony was not lost on him that he was actually engaging with this insanity. “I know you would never actually come for me.”

Dream JD looked confused. “But… you wrote me that letter specifically asking for me to come save you.”

Branch rolled his eyes. “If I had the opportunity to call for help, it certainly wouldn’t be to you. Those talent-sucking succubi forged the letter, dumbass.”

“O…kay, well I’m here now, and I’m not about to let my brother be imprisoned for a moment longer!” He charged with a machete he’d pulled from his hair, and for a moment Branch was actually concerned for his brother’s safety. Before of course remembering that he didn’t need to be concerned with the safety of someone who was just a figment of his imagination.

“Just leave,” he snapped. “I don’t need your help. Even if I wanted it, there’s nothing you could do. This thing is solid diamond.”

“Solid diamond…” he muttered, pacing back and forth as if he hadn’t just tried to have a jousting competition with a bottle. He snapped his fingers. “Oh, but I can get you out of there, Bitty! There’s one thing that can shatter diamond!”

He couldn’t seriously mean—

“The perfect family harmony!”

Branch laughed. How could he not? The mere suggestion was hilarious, if not deeply cruel. “Yeah, right,” he said, shaking his head. “That thing that we tried one time and failed so miserably at that you all left and never came back for me. Great idea.”

JD’s face soured. “What? But the others were supposed to stick around with you! That is so irresponsible!”

Had his eldest brother always been this allergic to self-awareness?

“Doesn’t matter, I can track them down! Maybe grandma can help! Where can I find her?”

In an instant, any deluded humor Branch could find in the situation dissolved. He glared daggers at the amalgamation of his brother. He was so angry, he just wanted to scream. He wanted to say things he could never take back. His lips trembled as he shakily formed words.

“She’s dead.”

An unreadable expression crossed his face before it begun to crumple. “What… what?” he asked quietly, like he was in shock. As if he hadn’t made his own choices. “She’s… no, no not Grandma Rosiepuff. She’s… she was so…”

He didn’t have the energy for the incoming breakdown. From who, he couldn’t be sure. “The harmony won’t work, and the others would never care enough to come, anyway.”

“Of course we—”

“Just leave, John.”

“I won’t. Not again.”

“Hmph. That’s new.”

“Branch…”

“I don’t want your help. I don’t need it.”

“—re dying out there! What we need is more troll.”

The quickly approaching voices of the giants snapped JD out of his stupor. He looked around in a panic, taking a hesitant step back.

Branch sighed. “On the off chance that… this is real. Find Queen Poppy. She’ll know what to do.”

“Who? Huh?”

“Either do that or go back to your own life, I don’t care. Just… get out of here.”

“I’ll find her. And I’ll come back for you, Branch,” he said, hair reaching for the vent he must have dropped out of. “I promise.”

As if he hadn’t heard that one before.

#kat writes #trolls fanfic #tw kidnapping #trolls #dw trolls #branch trolls #john dory #velvet and veneer #fanfic

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15-lizards · 1 year ago

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I'm not the genderswap Robb ask but can you genderswap the rest of the stark children? Fashion or not you're just so good at headcanons

Anon can we kiss

Male Sansa you are so beloved my sweet boy. The heir to winterfell but everyone thinks he’s a little bit ridiculous bc of his adherence to gentlemanly, frivolous southern customs despite being the future warden of the north. However he’s still courteous and charming enough to win over his fathers men. So he’s the odd one out but everyone still enjoys him. All the girls love how much of a sweet gentleman he is, and they love to watch him ride gracefully, dance gracefully, and spar gracefully. However he can be a bit snotty at times, despite his good intentions. So this means he frequently buts heads w/ Arry bc he doesn’t behave properly for his rank. Begging his father to betroth him to the princess (Joffahina? Idfk) so that he can become king consort and live in the south like he wants to, which Ned reluctantly agrees to. And we all know how that turns out…

Arry my bad ass little kid who I raised…also I know he’s aged up but Harry Gilby is so perfect for this idk just imagine him as a child. A true wild Northman, he fits in more than his brother does, but he’s not as physically imposing as others, nor does he respect authority enough (which is very northern behavior in some cases, but also very disrespectful in most others). He’s the classic ASOIAF unruly second son. Everyone’s headache, constantly shrugging off his duties to go riding or sparing or exploring, ignoring social conventions to make friends with every kitchen boy and serving girl. Thinks his brother is a stuffy ass of course. Once his brother gets engaged to the princess, Arry is suddenly the new heir. Goes south to court and avoids every betrothal his father tries to make for him, learning the braavosi style with his dancing teacher instead. Once all hell breaks loose he certainly has A Time trying to get home and eventually going to Braavos to shrug off his identity as heir to winterfell to become Nobody

Baby Branwen my child. Curious and stubborn little girl who isn’t quite at the age where she needs to start acting like a proper lady, leaving her mostly free to climb and explore and generally do whatever she wants. She’s quite taken with the idea of how the queen became a renowned female warrior, and has dreams of becoming one too someday, begging her father for riding and sword lessons, of which he only gives her the first at the moment. Her fall ruins the widely expected idea of ever getting her married, and her own idea of becoming a warrior, thus leading most people to believe she has become a generally useless burden. After her and the Reeds escape from winterfell and beyond the wall, she starts leaning more and more into her greenseer and skin changing abilities with aid from the three eyed raven, but despite this slow loss of morality she’s still just a scared child

Tiny Rina. Not much to say besides the fact that she’s still a feral three year old. No big changes from her male counterpart. However she IS riding back to winterfell on that damn unicorn I am making that canon in my head.

Joanna Snow the most hard headed ambitious stubborn teenage girl in the world with a superiority AND inferiority complex she’s everything to me. Doubly ignored and scorned for not only being a bastard but a female bastard. Useless in Westeros’ eyes. To her she only has one option, and gets shipped off to like an “elite” woman’s fighting force instead of the wall but surprise surprise this place also sucks balls and it’s still as cold. It’s mostly full of other bastards, former prostitutes convicted of crimes, and third and fourth daughters who didn’t want to join the faith. Total asshole at first but is eventually ride or die for most of her girls and the organization they’re in bc she is nothing if not loyal to her word.

#asoiaf #in my new gender bend world I don’t even know what’s going on with woman inheritance #I can’t say matriarchy cause that would imply the dance never happened #so I’m just calling it fem Robert installed royal succession regardless of gender and We Ball from there

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luminouslywriting · 6 months ago

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Chapter 5 (Mastermind)—MOTA Fic

A/N: No one asked for Bucky's opinion on things, but here we are anyways haha. That being said, I hope you enjoy the developing (kind of) friendship that they have going on! As always, let me know what you think!

Surprise inspections left the men more annoyed and frazzled than they had already been previously. Still, Ruth was surprised with the men and the way that they put up with Huglin’s inspection. Huglin had certainly been expecting more men to receive citations rather than just one very late crew, but Ruth supposed that was because he was looking to be a hardass.

In truth, Ruth considered these men to be very lucky, all things considered. They had an Air Executive who genuinely wanted them to succeed and also rewarded their obedience and successes as it came. If Huglin had been their Air Executive, they would have never left the ground.

Be that as it may, Huglin was good at his actual job, which was being a Commanding Officer and Colonel on Thorpe Abbotts. In the following days, Ruth found herself trying and failing yet again to write a letter to her family members.

Quite frankly, she didn’t feel she had much to say in the way of the truth and she didn’t particularly love writing lies to her family members to reassure them. Writing to Jonah and John was easy—they alone knew of her deployment with the JAG-Corp, but that was because she felt it necessary where she could end up in some sort of court case that they could hear of.

My dear brother Jonah,

I hope this letter reaches you in good health. I know things haven’t been great for you as of late and you haven’t received much correspondence from the others. I’ve heard that John is doing well in the Navy and isn’t far from the coast of England.

Stay dry and try to keep yourself cool out there. I want you to take care of yourself and your men. You and I, we’re a little too self-sacrificial at times. So I’m asking you not to be. Take care of yourself. You’re my brother and I pray every day that you’re kept safe.

As for myself, I asked for a transfer and have found it to be—well, interesting. It’s certainly not where I used to be and to be quite honest, I had more friends there than I have here. I think that’s part of the reason why I didn’t want to be there anymore. War isn’t a time for friends, as you well know. And if I’m going to do my part, then I need to stay focused. That being said, I also broke things off in an effort to keep my head up. I’m sure you’re probably shaking your head at that, considering in your last letter you referred to me as ‘Old Maid Ruthie’ (which I found very rude, for the record). But I felt like I had to do it.

I miss you most days. I’m on my own here, completely and totally. It’s a strange thing, coming from home and being so surrounded by family at all times and then to be totally and completely alone. I’m sure you feel the same. So know that I’m with you, wherever you are. And may the angels guide you safely back home.

All my love,

Ruthie

For a long moment, all Ruth could do was stare at the letter that she had penned out. Before Pearl Harbor, all Ruth could possibly think about was getting out of her parent’s home and getting some space and quiet from her family. With seven kids, all of whom had larger than life personalities and ideas, it was hard to feel like an actual human being at times. Especially since she was always helping with the younger kids and constantly on display from her parents, who just wanted her to settle down, of all things.

But now? Now Ruth wasn’t so certain she should have been so hasty to want to leave. It was crushingly and damningly lonely, being here on another continent all by herself. Granted, she had enjoyed the freedom that it had provided her. But never staying in one place long enough to make meaningful connections was hard .

Contrary to popular belief, Ruth actually did like people. If she didn’t, she never would have become a lawyer in the first place.

People were so complicated and complex though. It was maddening, if you thought about it long enough. No one ever stuck by their moral compass and people tended to change just when you thought you could depend on them. It was the sole reason why she was needed . And Ruth liked to feel needed. Like to feel as though people were depending on her, like to feel as though she was contributing something valuable to the world.

“You know, you’re always writing something, but I can’t tell if you’re happy about it or miffed,” Helen said in a sing-song tone, catching Ruth’s attention.

“An in-between?” Ruth glanced from her spot on her bed over at Helen, who was boredly flipping through an old magazine. “Writing to my family is a…complicated matter.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” Helen agreed, shaking her head. “Unless you’re Tatty, of course.”

Tatty gave a snort from her own bunk, laser-focused on adjusting the nail polish on one of her nails that had chipped. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not!” Helen reassured. “You just like writing your family.”

“Siblings?” Ruth questioned.

Tatty’s look of concentration shifted as her tongue poked out of her mouth in annoyance. The nail brush had just painted over the skin on the edges of her nail. “All girls for my dad, I’m afraid. We all write to each other every week.”

“That’s sweet,” Ruth said. “I think I’d die if I had all sisters. What about you, Helen?”

“A brother, but we’re not very close,” Helen gave a shrug. “How many siblings do you have, Ruthie?”

“Six. Three sisters, three brothers. I prefer my brothers since they’re not as concerned about my life-decisions as my sisters are,” Ruth nearly snorted.

“Well that’s sweet that they care!” Helen insisted.

“Right,” Ruth replied in a light sarcastic tone. “It’s sweet when you’re consistently bothered about marrying before your womb dries up and dies of old age.”

“You can’t be that much older than us,” Tatty gave a giant roll of her eyes, blowing to speed up the drying process of her nails.

“25.”

Helen snorted. “That’s not old at all! Ugh, besides,” she continued, a grin slipping onto her face. “It’s kinda fun being over here and getting to know so many men!”

“Sure, getting to know them is one thing,” Tatty shook her head.

“But falling in love sounds like a damn fool’s errand,” Ruth agreed.

“You two are such cynics,” Helen declared.

“I prefer the term realistic,” Ruth corrected, nudging Helen with her foot. “But if you find a nice man, I’ll certainly attempt to live vicariously through you.”

“Noted.”

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

Ruth was half-convinced she was never going to actually see the Hundredth fly an actual mission—mostly due to the fact that the month of June consisted of them training every day rather than actually going out. She supposed it was a necessary feat, given the fact that they likely needed to memorize the route home and ensure that they knew how Huglin preferred missions to be run. Still, Ruth wasn’t bored by any means. Knowing her law-background, Huglin was also using her as a legal consultant on missions, specifically in regards to war crimes and what was considered allowable.

The past three days though? Ruth had been busy in consultations over the upcoming bombing of Bremen. It wasn’t unheard of for her to consult back in Aldbourne for some of the missions beyond the paratroopers.

But she had never been so actively involved in helping make plans for something such as this. It required a careful study of the landscape, consulting with the Group Navigator and pulling in various intelligence officers to consult as they discussed the legality of the target that they were hitting.

Bremen was a long-shot and they all knew it. It was going to be incredibly difficult to get that far inland into Germany without heavy casualties and heavy resistance on the side of the Germans. Ruth wasn’t sure it was a good idea to begin with—maybe if the Allied Forces had more land that they were occupying, she could see that it was a good idea. But as of right now, it seemed like a suicide run if she had ever heard of one.

She almost found it a little cruel, the way that they prepared a special breakfast for the men. She knew it was likely going to be the last meal for several of the men. But that didn’t stop her from feeling like it was a cruel thing to do, given the fact that they’d be up in the air in a few hours and food would be the last thing on their minds then.

Once, back when she was in school, Ruth had attended and been able to sit in on a particular case for an inmate on Death Row. He had claimed that he was innocent and the lawyer she was shadowing had met with him no less than five times before his day had arrived. Ruth had talked kindly with the man for a moment—and he had mentioned that the food on Death Row was always something good.

It seemed a strange thing then. Now it just seemed cruel and made too much sense to her.

Somehow, and she wasn’t quite sure how, except for maybe her current state of mental exhaustion clearly being the prevalent force in her mind, Ruth had been talked into watching Meatball for the day.

As soon as the men had taken off, Ruth had decided to go on a run. Running had always been a safe-space for her, something that helped her focus and clear her head, and it especially helped with anxious feelings. And considering that the men had decided against her advice to not bomb Bremen—using her literally as a consult—Ruth was anxious about the state of affairs that this would leave everyone in.

There was also the fact that Colonel Huglin was going up with his men. She couldn’t say that she found him to be particularly likable, but the fact that he was flying with the men said a lot about him.

Meatball barked as he ran alongside her and a warm summer breeze ripped through the treeline as Ruth turned the corner. Her lungs burned and her legs pumped, muscles beginning to stretch in a way that they hadn’t in a long time. She took in everything as she ran—the trees, the barracks, the runway, the sun beginning to rise—and then she let everything else out that was trapped inside.

I’m just a woman who no one listens to—mother was right, a female lawyer won’t be respected unless I make them respect me.

Winters and his stupidly kind way of telling her that she was a wall of stone—well damn him, she had painstakingly and carefully made the wall of stone herself and she’d be damned before she let anyone take it down without her permission. Even a man as kind and noble as he was—it was not enough to be those things. She wasn’t sure anyone would be enough for that.

Everything she did was intentional and she was a credit to her profession. If she wanted something, then she’d make it happen.

The thoughts ate away at her like some sort of weed growing in her chest. Before she could so much as scowl at her own brain, her gaze had caught onto someone pacing back and forth between the barracks. Ruth couldn’t help the fact that she stopped short—gaze scrutinizing the situation ahead of her.

Air Executive Bucky Egan was going back and forth, mumbling something under his breath and shaking his head. She wondered how long he had been like that and if it had been the entire time that the men had been gone. She didn’t get a chance to wonder long. Meatball ran straight up to Bucky Egan and began nuzzling at his hand, nearly scaring the man half out of his wits at the sudden sight of Ruth and Meatball.

Oh Ruth was sorely going to regret this, she just knew it. “Are you just pacing back and forth?” Ruth blurted, narrowing her gaze.

He just let out a tired sigh. “Can we not do this right now, Sharpe?”

She stared at him for a long moment before just shaking her head at him. “No.”

“No?” Bucky choked out in surprise.

“No,” Ruth repeated again. She tilted her head at him. “I’m probably going to hate myself for this—and this is not my way of trying to get close to you,” she emphasized the latter portion. “But you should come running with me.”

“Running?” Bucky crinkled his face in distaste. “I’d rather—”

“Drink yourself into a stupor? That would be an infraction for you and seeing as how you already are on thin ice with Huglin, I don’t think you should risk that,” Ruth gave a sickly sweet smile at him. “So stop spiraling about your men and focus on something else.”

Bucky just stared at the ground for a long moment, hands firmly on his hips as he considered the ultimatum. “Damnit, you really are just annoying as hell , you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

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

Bucky didn’t like the fact that it took actual effort to keep up with Lieutenant Ruth Sharpe. She was damn fast and had barely spared him a glance since starting this little running spree of theirs. Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the woman.

She said she didn’t want to make friends with anyone, but then extended an olive branch when he was clearly stressed out. She gave the men a warning about the surprise inspection and she was clearly on good enough terms with Benny DeMarco to be watching his beloved dog, Meatball. But then she was constantly threatening everyone and making it really hard to find any sort of downtime enjoyable.

When the two of them finally came to a stop, lightly breathing and standing on the runway as the sun was finally higher up in the sky, Bucky could barely form the words. He was by no means out of shape, but Ruth was a workhorse when it came to running.

“How—how do you do this for fun?” Bucky questioned.

Ruth piqued a brow. “Fun? No, no, when I want to have fun, I go dancing or find myself a band to play with. Running, I do that out of spite.”

He blinked once, then twice. “What?”

She shifted her weight, stretching her arms out. “Back in school, there were a bunch of boys who kept on bragging about how fast they were and how no girls could beat their records. I got tired of hearing them constantly talk about themselves so I tried out for track, made the team, and then beat the state record for the boys.”

Bucky almost laughed except he was certain that she would have had half a mind to punch him. “Spite is your motivation?”

“When it comes to men, yes.”

“You know what I think?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,” Ruth replied dryly.

“I think you need to get laid. Like—badly,” Bucky just gestured at all of her, shaking his head. “Because all of this,” he waved his hand at her. “Cannot be good for your health.”

“Interesting take,” Ruth didn’t blink. “Counter-offer? I’ll get laid when you get sober.”

“Ouch. But that’s a fair point, I guess. Now why the hell did you want me to go running? It’s hot and—”

Ruth just gestured back at the tower. “Because your boys are due back within the hour. By my calculations, you have just enough time to clean yourself up and be ready for them to show up. You’re not drunk and that means you can actually attend to the needs of your men. Consider it a gift to the Hundredth.”

He could only blink as she took off running again—and he was left there standing with a slightly ajar jaw. “Manipulative and rude and cares about the men…what a bunch of bullshit lawyerly—”

#mota #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic #mastersoftheair #masters of the air #oc originalfemalecharacters #rosie rosenthal #robert rosenthal x oc #rosie rosenthal x oc

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