#she was so dehydrated she was PANTING if she moved around too much

[softgothbabe]

My new kitty's name is Spooky btw 🥺🥰

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 25 - Release the Ice Bath Thirst Traps

Ok guys! here we go!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED (sorry for those who have asked)

For the very end of the chapter, there's something I made up for Singapore (this fact is made up just for the story)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, inbox messages, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D

The moment you stepped out of the cool, airconditioned car, your team shirt suddenly clung to you. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead as you made your way through the paddock. Max had warned you that Singapore and Qatar would be impossibly hot: you just didn’t think it’d be this bad. 

All you wanted to do now was go back to the hotel where it was ice cold. You wiped your brow with your forearm as you got closer to the garage. Giant fans welcomed you with air. It wasn’t freezing cold, but it would do. You were already on your third water today, smartly forgoing the Red Bull that was bound to make you dehydrated. 

You stood next to Max as the team had a quick debrief. The heat was definitely getting to you, as you really couldn’t remember a word that anyone said. You blink your eyes as they were burning with sweat. Your older teammate could only offer you a remorseful smile. 

Max could see that the heat wasn’t going too well with you. You had told him beforehand that some females, including you, just couldn’t regulate their temperatures as well as males could. Women often gave off more body heat than men did as well. This caused the Dutchman to send out a group text, warning the other drivers to look out for you. 

You groaned as you tried to put on your fireproofs and race suit. The more you moved around, the more you seemed to sweat. You kept your suit tied around your waist. You definitely wouldn’t be putting it on until you had to be in the car.

Max was already zipped up by the time you returned. 

“Here.” He handed you another ice cold water bottle. 

“Thank you Max,” you croaked out, making the Dutchman look a little weary at you. You just smiled back. 

“Once we qualify, we can go to the ice baths.” 

Max would have thought that you would hate the idea since you always showered with the water at a boiling temperature. Yet, he could see that you were slightly “warming up” to the idea of a bath full of ice (pun intended). 

From the corner, Mitch watched as you poured the remainder of your water on your head. She had requested a few ice packs to be ready for you when you arrived, but sadly they weren’t completely frozen. She’d make sure that you’d have them for tomorrow. 

Surprisingly, your laps were great with you qualifying in P3, behind Charles once again. Halfway through, you had opened your visor, trying to get some air through your sweaty helmet. Your water pouch had to be refilled multiple times between sessions. Yet, your trainer advised you to try not to drink so much during the race, as they wouldn’t be able to refill. 

Mitch had come over to your car as soon as you were back in. You gave her a big smile as you started to get out of the car. 

“How are you doing kid?” 

You took a moment to look at her outfit. Where a pantsuit should have been, there was a Red Bull Tank top and some very loose pants. You were jealous that she got to wear those while you were stuck with skin tight clothes. 

You gasped a bit for some cooler air once your helmet was off. 

“I’m good. Max said something about an ice bath?” 

Your eyes were faintly glimmering with hope for something to cool you down. Mitch smiled at you. 

“Yep. I put a change of clothes on your bed, but I think you need some help?” 

You nodded at her question before heading to your room. You didn’t want to waste any time getting out of your suit. 

The zipper came off smoothly. Mitch definitely saw that you had sweated through your fireproofs and felt terrible. Surely, there was something that the team could do. 

You giggled. “I’ve probably already lost a few pounds.” 

Mitch rolled her eyes at the terrible joke. If anything, there was truth in that statement. She had seen the numbers after you got weighed and you had lost a lot. 

“Well, there will be lots of food for you to fill up on.” 

“I hope we’re not going to go over the catering budget again.” 

Mitch let out a snort as she helped you out of the sticky fire proofs. She pulled out a bag and handed it to you. You grinned at the sight of the limited clothes in the bag. 

“I didn’t think that you’d want to go out in full bikini, so there’s a sports bra and some spandex shorts. I’ll wait for you by your door and will walk you to the back.” 

Once Mitch left, you quickly peeled the rest of your clothes off. The sports bra and spandex were all black, and covered everything that needed to be. You said a quick thank you to her in your mind as you got dressed. Your skin was definitely cooler with no clothes to stick to, but you were still sweating. 

You swung the door open. 

“Ready to go?” you asked, giving her the bag back with your other clothes. They would definitely need to be washed by tomorrow. 

You followed the woman to the back, going through multiple doors. Once she opened the door to the little outside area, your eyes landed on Max, who was already soaking. His eyes were closed as he leaned his head back on the tub. 

Yours was a bit more like a giant trough, filled to the brim with ice. 

Mitch spoke as you got closer. “We thought that you’d need more ice, hence why yours is bigger. It’s also more insulated with the metal than the plastic. Do not stay in more than 15 minutes. We don’t need your temperature dropping too much.” 

You tossed your foot over and gingerly place a toe in, just to get a feel for it. The temperature was perfect and you found yourself sinking into the ice. 

“You think it’s ok if I dunk my head?” you asked Max. 

He didn’t even bother to open his eyes. 

“Go for it kid.” 

You held your breath as you sunk below the ice layer. Your brain went a bit fuzzy as the freezing water went over your scalp. You let your eyes open under the water, just to feel the cold and relieve the stinging. 

Once you came up gasping for air, Max finally looked over. 

“Had fun?” He laughed a bit. 

You lovingly flipped him off. Your hands came and brushed your hair back. You looked over at Max’s plastic pool, and saw ducks in his. You pouted once you realized that you didn’t have any. 

“What’s wrong kid?” the Dutchman asked at the sight of your pout. 

You murmured, “I didn’t get any ducks.” 

Max rolled his eyes before gently throwing one of his ducks into your pool. Your eyes immediately lit up as you began to play with it. Max just watched as you found so much joy in something so little. You felt his gaze and you guessed that you needed to say something. 

“I never had a rubber duck growing up. It’s so cute.” 

You held the little yellow thing in your hands, right in front of your face. Max had a sad smile as he watched. 

“You have plans for after the race?” 

You sighed as you let the duck rest on the water, not breaking the surface tension. 

“Logan, Oscar, and Lando wanted to go see the city and I said I’d join them. Something about needing a good drive around Singapore.” 

Max snorted. Of course the group of three would want to invite you. The door opened, which had the two of you whip your heads to it. 

“Oh, hey David,” you greeted the photographer. You sank back into the ice, still enjoying the cold. Max groaned when he realized what David was there for. 

You smirked as you looked over at your teammate. “Ready to do some thirst traps Max?” 

The Dutchman rolled his eyes. “Let’s leave that for Ferrari and Lando.” 

You giggled at the statement. “Yeah, I would rather not show much on screen. Taken woman and all.” 

That time, Max laughed. 

David looked apologetic. “Just need to get some pictures. Trust me, this isn’t my favorite.” 

He took some pictures while you and Max tried to look as non-sexy as possibly. You definitely tried to sneak some goofy facial expressions in. You kept your whole body submerged and thankfully the ice kept anyone from seeing much below your neck. David quickly thanked the two of you for your time before leaving. 

“Instagram is going to have a field with those.” 

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing splish, splash - racers in the ice baths

liked by arthur_leclerc, y/n.nation, rookie&maxie, landonorris, and 846,294 others

redbullfan what the heck is this?? this was not the thirst traps we wanted

maximillian he's giving "moto-moto likes you"

y/n.nation everyone is focused on the lack of thirst-traps, I'm just focused on the amount of ducks that Red Bull has

oscarpiastri what are your duck's names?

landonorris probably can't top cold, as, and fuck y/n.89 max's is James Pond and mine is Duck Norris landonorris my son?? y/n.89 no - something american so you won't understand logansargeant DUCK NORRIS RAWWRRRRR

rookie&co BOOOOOO TOMATOES TOMATOES TOMATOES

f1fan I know admin is hiding the thirst traps

charles_leclerc no thirst traps?

maxverstappen1 we leave that to you and the Spaniard y/n.89 I mean, I could be sexy if I wanted carlossainz55 sure chica, sure y/n.89 who is single? and who is taken maxverstappen1 HA

iamred_iamyellow ducks, ducks, ducks, ducks

You snorted at the Dutchman’s bluntness. 

The timer on the wall signaled that it was time to get out. You let out a giant groan as you stood and climbed over. 

Mitch came in with two big towels. One for you and one for Max. Your skin was finally covered with goosebumps instead of sweat. You quickly had an idea as you walked back to put normal clothes on. 

“You think I could dunk my head in before I get in the car? I think my wet hair will keep my head cooler if I do. It’s something about heat escaping through your scalp when you overheat. If it’s covered by my balaclava and my helmet, it can’t escape.” 

Mitch finished your thought process. 

“So if you wet your hair, your scalp can be cooler longer.” 

You nodded before heading into your room. 

“Ah, Max wanted me to hand this to you.” 

It was a normal Red Bull polo, which made your brows pinch in confusion. But, you shrugged and took it anyways. 

However, once you started changing you realized that the shirt was almost three sizes too big. Yet, you grinned as you put it on. Since it was oversized, it wasn’t sticking to your skin as you started to sweat a little. 

The crew laughed a bit at the sight of the giant shirt almost swallowing you. But, you didn’t care about that. You were significantly cooler and you could follow the last debrief of the day. 

Sunday night came and went super-fast, and you were thankful this time around. You were definitely more cool that you had been for qualifying. Mitch had sent the ice vest to you early, so you didn’t start off too warm. With your hair being dunked in ice water, your head was cooler during the race. The little bit of breeze that you got helped as well. 

That bit really helped you stay focused as you gained another podium. Surprisingly, this was Max’s first time winning in Singapore. Adrian really made sure that the car could keep up with the street race and not end it like 2023. Charles came in a very close second. 

Charles and Max poured their champagne bottles onto your overheating body. Halfway through you needed to sit down. Your body was slowly becoming even more dehydrated and hot as the minutes passed by. You were kind of held by Max as the three of you left the podium. 

The Dutchman had a worried grip on your bicep as he held you upright. He needed to get you some water, quickly. You thankfully weren’t on the verge of passing out, but he knew you were thirsty. He heard your radio toward the end where you were just begging for a drink. Max couldn’t imagine being without water, but he normally didn’t drink as much while racing. 

He gently set you on a seat in the garage, before turning away to get some things. Your eyes were closed as you sat right under a fan. Max soon returned with a cooling towel and three bottles of water.

The cold of the towel made your eyes open as he put it on your neck. Your race suit was tied around your waist and your fireproof shift had been swapped for a thin, random oversized shirt. Max gently cooed as you leaned into the cold water bottle on your face. 

“There you go,” he whispered as you finally were able to take big gulps of water. He unscrewed one of the other bottles before he lightly tipped it over your head. Streams of water ran down your face as you finished off the water bottle. 

The team was glancing at the two of you. In the back of their minds, they were worried about how you’d react to Qatar, which was way worse. However, they held on to some hope that it would be cooler than last year due to it being moved later on the race calendar. 

Your water bottle was on in moments. You flashed a smile at your worried teammate. 

“Thanks,” you gasped, trying to catch your breath after guzzling. 

Mitch came from the back with another woman who was holding a device. Mitch kneeled next to Max and put her hand on your knee. 

“Hey kid, we just want to make sure that you’re okay. Brianna here is going to take your blood pressure and other vitals just to be safe.” 

You only nodded and leaned your head against the wall. The medic made quick work and started to strap the device on. Max stood up and walked a bit away, just to give everyone some space. His eyes caught glimpses of orange, red, and blue and he could only guess who it was. He took one more glance at the situation before walking out of the garage. 

Logan, Charles, Lando, and Oscar were waiting patiently by the opening. They all looked up once they heard Max walk out, but deflated when they realized it wasn’t the Red Bull driver they were looking for. 

“Is she doing okay?” Charles asked first, concerning the other three boys. 

Lando put his arms out, stopping any conversation. 

“What does he mean by ‘is she doing ok?’ Where’s Y/n?” the Brits voice going more high pitched the more he started to panic. 

Max sighed. “She’s just having a hard time with the heat. She got super dehydrated this weekend and really couldn’t get over it.” 

He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. 

“They’re just checking vitals I think, to make sure everything is ok.” 

Logan sighed loudly in concern. He definitely knew what it was like, getting memories from Qatar 2023. 

The American asked, “Is she going to race in Qatar?” 

Max blinked slowly before answering. “She wants to. The team is really hoping that it’s going to be significantly cooler than last year. And they know to get her started on hydration much earlier. I talked to her physio and she thinks that Y/n’s diet also wasn’t right.” 

Oscar raised his eyebrows. “Diet?” 

Max nodded. “Yeah. She was apparently eating foods that might dehydrate the body, like lots of salt. Her physio said that she’ll start her on more fruits and water heavy foods way in advance. And drinks as well, more electrolytes.” 

Lando nodded in agreement. “I remember when I had to do that. They took away my chips for like….months.” 

They had been so into talking that they didn’t notice that you had walked out, now changed into shorter shorts and a bigger top (one that Charles strangely recognized as one of his brother’s shirts). 

“Are we ready to go?” you asked, getting closer. “Lando is driving because I am done for today.” 

The boys looked a bit guilty at your tired face. 

Oscar spoke up first. “We don’t have to go driving if you don’t want to. We know you’re probably tired.” 

You waved your hands and made a sound. “Nope, I’m good. Nothing will ever beat the one time I spent an entire summer on a farm in the middle of Texas.” 

You pretended to shiver at the thought, making the group laugh. 

Charles suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place (well, second because he was worried about you after the podium). He handed you a small bag. Opening it up, you saw a bright colored water bottle. You raised your eyebrow in question. 

The Monegasque smirked. “From you know how.” 

Your face practically melted at the loving gesture as you looked at it. Lando, Oscar, and Logan suddenly got the memo. 

Logan wrapped an arm around you first. “Aww such a sweet little boyfriend.” 

Oscar looked at Lando. 

“Where’s my water bottle?” he mocked whined, batting his eyelashes at the Brit. Your rolled your eyes. 

Lando put his arms around the Aussie. “Don’t worry love, it’s in the car.” 

The Brit puckered his lips before pretending to lean in. You just watched with an annoyed grin on your face. You looked at Max and Charles and winked, the Dutchman and Monegasque getting what you were about to do. You shrugged Logan’s arm off before taking a step toward your teammate. 

But, you purposefully made your knees buckle and fell into Max and Charles’s waiting arms. Lando and Oscar shut up quickly, before yelling that you needed help. Except that they heard your giggles as Max put you back on your feet. 

“I was just kidding.” 

The trio huffed. 

Logan murmured, “That was not funny.” 

Charles snorted. “Oh but it was. Should have seen your faces.” 

Your giggled died out before you asked, “Are we ready to go? I think I’ll melt if I stand out here for any longer.” 

Lando flicked your forehead. “We were just waiting on you.” 

The four of you said your goodbyes to Max and Charles before heading to the parking lot. Somehow, Logan got his hands on a Jeep to take the four of you somewhere. And, he was even able to get the top off. And because he claimed it was an all American brand, Logan begged Lando to let him drive it. Lando reluctantly handed over the keys. 

You claimed earlier that you needed shotgun, because “men can’t be passenger princesses.” Oscar and Lando tried to disagree. 

The breeze from outside in addition to the cool air-conditioning from the car was perfect. You let everyone have their turn with the aux, praying that they wouldn’t pick anything too embarrassing.  

Oscar ripped the phone out of your hands when Logan tried to request Free Bird again.

The Aussie sighed as the American whined. 

“We are not having another shirt ripped or a speeding ticket.” 

You laughed as Logan tried to hit Oscar in the back. At an empty road, Lando grabbed his camera. 

“Bug, put your head out the window real fast.” 

You did as suggested and smiled toward the camera that Lando was holding. 

Immediately you had a sense of déjà vu. Except this time, it was actual friends in the car and not just your manager. You thought back to how far you’ve come since the night before going to Milton. 

Lando laughed as he looked at the camera. 

He spoke, “This reminds me about the time that me and my friends were driving around and then this car pulled up next to ours. They were blasting What Makes You Beautiful and there was this girl in the front seat.” 

Your cheeks were becoming warm as Lando kept telling the story: that was definitely about you. Lando kept blabbing about the night. 

“And then the next morning, I got out of my hotel elevator and I think the same girl literally bulldozed me over. Didn’t say sorry or anything. I just thought it was funny, she seemed like she was in a rush.” 

Logan was laughing at the story, but got concerned at your flushed appearance and sudden quietness. 

“You alright champ? Do we need to get you some more water?” 

At the sound of the question, Lando and Oscar were leaning up, trying to look to see if you were going to actually pass out. Lando was already on his phone, trying to bring up Max’s contact to call just in case. 

However, you started laughing, making the trio at ease. You tried to cover your giggles with your mouth. You had this bright look in your eyes. 

“That was actually me Lando. Sorry about that.” 

Lando’s jaw dropped at the reveal. 

You gave a half shrug. “Arthur was waiting for me in my hotel room and I was excited to see him.” 

Logan’s and Oscar’s shoulders were shaking as they kept laughing at Lando’s facial expressions. The Brit huffed and crossed his arms, mouth formed into a pout. 

“You owe me a race win now.” 

“Excuse you?”

“You heard me.” 

“Uh, guys?” Logan asked, but you and Lando ignored him. 

“Get your own race win. You’ve done it before.” 

“Cause Max crashed out.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“Guys?” Oscar’s voice also sounded, worry in his tone. 

“Lando, it’s really not that hard. You just go around him.” 

“It’s a tractor versus a rocket ship. One cannot simply just go around.” 

“GUYS!” 

“What?” you and Lando yelled at the same time. Once the car was silent, you finally noticed that it had stopped moving. 

“Logan why aren’t you driving?” 

You looked at the American, who was slightly shaking while looking in the rearview mirror. Your eyes glanced at it, blue and red lights reflecting through the glass. You looked behind you and saw the source. 

“Ah shit.”

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 Alexa, play free bird by lynard skynard

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, redbullrocket, and 725,028 others

box_box_express oh thank goodness she's out

y/n.nation you think she jailbreaked?

georgerussell63 good to see that I don't need to pull up any power point presentations on why you four shouldn't go to jail

y/n.89 good to know that you have one ready? landonorris you think that we'd actually get arrested?? logansargeant oh yee of little faith oscarpiastri it was already ready???????

change_ur_f-car BAHAHAHAHAH I'M DEAD - ARRESTED RACE CAR DRIVERS FOR BEING IN A CAR

formulalala_delulu this whole race/day was a fever dream

christianhorner good to see you not in cuffs kid

y/n.89 good to not be in cuffs maxverstappen1 rookie arrest before I was y/n.89 HA I BEAT MAX VERSTAPPEN IN EQUAL MACHINERY landonorris oh that's not...ok

lestappenlove your honor I love them

Race Results

Max Verstappen - 25 points

Charles Leclerc - 18 points

Y/n L/n - 16 points (fastest lap)

Carlos Sainz - 12 points

Oscar Piastri - 10 points

Alex Albon - 8 points

Lando Norris - 6 points

Logan Sargeant - 4 points

Pierre Galsy - 2 points

Daniel Ricciardo - 1 point

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen - 334 points

Charles Leclerc - 304 points

Y/n L/n - 223 points

Lando Norris - 196 points

Carlos Sainz - 157 points

Oscar Piastri - 140 points

Lewis Hamilton - 113 points

Alex Albon - 70 points

George Russell - 65 points

Fernando Alonso - 45 points

Logan Sargeant - 44 points

Daniel Ricciardo - 26 points

Lance Stroll - 17 points

Pierre Gasly - 14 points

Valtteri Bottas - 13 points

Yuki Tusnuoda - 9 points

Zhou Guanyu - 1 point

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull - 557 points

Ferrari - 461 points

McLaren - 336 points

Mercedes - 178 points

Williams - 114 points

Aston Martin - 62 points

Alpha Tauri - 35 point

Alpha Romeo - 14 points

Alpine - 14 points

Haas - 0 points

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

[bfictioncorner]

“Come Through the Window, Spend the Night”

Media: Jennifer’s Body (2009)

Rating: 18+ (or R or M)

Pairing: Jennifer Check x fem (afab) reader

Content and warnings: cunnilingus/oral sex, biting mentioned, mommy kink, blood mentioned, sorta cannibalism mentioned, Jennifer having a teasing attitude… mentions of her demonic powers/possession and killing…

Summary: You’ve been wanting to get to know Jennifer a little better throughout all of high school, but now that graduation has come and gone she suddenly seems interested.

Author’s notes: Takes place in the Jennifer’s Body universe as if she never got caught and killed, and just kept doing her thing past graduation. Jennifer is at least 18 or 19 here based off that (and reader is implied to be about the same age). Also there’s a mention of Needy.

Years of color guard and a failed year in cheerleading had you regularly trailing around Jennifer… not intentionally, just circumstantially. Which you didn’t mind at all. Sometimes you spoke casually, even outside of practice, and every time she was sweetly warm (which was saying something, considering she often seemed short to others).

Now that the summer after graduation had rushed upon you, you felt the need to do something to draw closer. There was a magnetism to Jennifer’s presence that skewed what it was you actually wanted to be to her. What were you classified as to begin with? Were you just always gonna be the nice floater friend, or were you trying to reach bestie status? It wasn’t as if she hung around Needy as much anymore…

“Hey, Jen,” you bumbled one day at the end of a post-grad color guard get together. (You didn’t want to be there, but talking to her was the only appeal in it.) “Your hair looks nice. I wanted to ask you where—”

“Yours is too, babes.” She delivered that automatic, white-and-shining performance smile. “I’d like to braid it sometime. It’s so long and smooth.” Her fingers reached out unexpectedly and interlaced with the strands hanging off one of your shoulders. You stiffened at the touch. “You have to tell me what you use! Mane and Tail? Some kind of mask treatment?”

You stumbled, completely taken aback. “Um, well…”

“You can tell me when we do hair together. Wanna come over tomorrow night?”

The urgency to obtain the details of where and when escaped you. “Yes!” was all you could manage.

…And that was how you ended up staying over at Jennifer’s house, sprawling around on her cushy bed late into the night. As promised, she brushed and braided your hair, went into a hair care rant, and then settled into a quiet hum of kicking stuffed animals off the bed and looking through magazines.

The quiet was comfortable enough, allowing you to steal secret glances over the curve of her ear and the black hair that trailed from behind it and over her shoulder… over her chest where the neckline sagged revealingly. Every detail of her form, her presence, made you panting, lips and tongue sticky with dehydration.

“Jen, can I ask you something?” you broached, feeling the need to fill the air. You squirmed around in the purple silk shorts and tank she’d leant you. “Why don’t you hang out with Needy anymore?”

A strange, pallid glaze clouded Jennifer’s eyes, serious and pensive. Her lips moved, a crack in her voice starting and stopping, unsure where to begin. “Sometimes people change. I changed, and Needy didn’t really vibe with it. I maybe also did some not great things… But, like, I had to…”

“Oh, well, I guess that’s part of getting older and growing apart,” you reasoned with a small shrug. Your eyes were hesitant to lock with hers, rushing around everywhere but. “And I’m sure the things you did were hard for her to deal with, but it wasn’t like you killed anyone.”

The flash in Jennifer’s crisp, light eyes—lashes framing and fluttering like thick, black, scalloped lace—appeared remorseful for a brief moment. A blink-and-you-miss-it moment. But that quickly shifted into a playful admittance of guilt. “You know all those murders around here? Specifically all the boys from school that—” Jennifer mimed a slashed throat, drawing her thumb across her neck.

“…Yeah?”

No answer. No verbal confirmation. Just a finger pointing to herself, a sheepish smile to match.

“Bullshit,” you rasped, letting your eyes roll reflexively. “You’re yanking my tail! As if you’re some kind of serial killer…”

“Not a serial killer. I was just… hungry. Like REALLY hungry. Like, on your period hungry.”

“I don’t—” You shook your head, confused.

Jennifer moved as if she was growing impatient in her own explanation. Just cut to the chase. Black hair fanned off her shoulders gracefully as she reached away, into her nightstand drawer, to retrieve a box cutter. It didn’t seem like the type of thing she would own. It also reflected some old red residue crusted on the blade.

Holding up her palm in front of your face, she slashed the thin skin with the angled blade. But as soon as blood had started to drip down in thick trickles, the source had sealed up… making you question what you just saw.

“I’m… different…” she shrugged, tucking a slick chunk of hair behind your ear, something mildly apologetic in her inflection. “I’m… a god…”

“You’re a demon,” you sort of gasped, keeping your tone as light and slightly joking as possible. It was an understatement to say you didn’t know how to react, how to speak… and yet you were drawn in hard.

“Not a demon! Just possessed, silly!” Her sheet-soft expression melded into a giddy grin. The strand she had just tucked behind your ear was now wrapped around her finger. You felt her subtle tug. Every touch was like a carnivore playing with a carcass, or laying claim to some prey.

Your unmasked reaction gave you a hesitant quiver, as if you were winding yourself into a fatal predicament. “God, what are you gonna do to me? Eat me? Drink my blood?” Your tone was surprisingly nonchalant and mocking—so hushed, though desperate. It might have been a mistake if what was concluded about the killing was true… But your time had to come sometime. If you were going to give in, “too late” didn’t matter.

“Eat you, huh?” Jennifer smirked nastily. “All this… softness?” She raked the silken neckline down to expose your breasts, no bra as a barrier. You could feel sticky pink lips and the gentle point of her nose bury into your cleavage. “Gross. How disgustingggggg…” Her voice trailed off, teasing. “You must think I’m some kind of monster.”

Her muffled voice was deliciously appealing, especially the more her lips and tongue suctioned to your skin, sounding oddly vulnerable and messy.

“Maybe I’m into that,” you murmur, biting your lip to maintain control and composure (futile as it would be).

“Say ‘please’,” she whispered against the thin skin against your sternum.

“Please for what?”

Your chest was suddenly cold with the absence of her lips. You could feel your back curve into the plush comforter below, helplessly, warm and suffocating, chest pressing upwards as Jennifer gingerly lowered herself upon you. Her hands braced down your forearms, a gentle sort of touch in her palms, her fingers. There was an itch for violence and domination in the contrasting force put upon you, but all babying smiles the whole while. Her glossy pink and black nails grazed sweetly on your skin, moving from your arms down to your bent legs.

“‘Please’ to start and ‘please’ to stop,” she chimed. In such an impenetrably fast change in position, Jennifer’s body had sort of caged over yours, head lowered to inspect the taper from your ribs to your belly to your hips, and then… “Such a good girl,” her voice fell out, somewhere between a growl and a giggle. She looped her arms under your bent knees in a motion to scoop you under her in a more strategic placement.

“Please?” you stuttered, having an idea where this was going, but nearly blacking out from the reality of it.

“God, so well-behaved too. Mommy likes that.” Her last words trickled off, the whole sentiment nearly lost on you for the fact that her face was buried between your legs, chin somehow pushing the tiny shorts out of her way.

Thighs jolting and cramping all at once, you were sold perpetually on the pleasure and pain of it all. Your eyes remained shut in bumbling, untethered ecstasy, Jennifer’s nose pressing against your clit with just the right pressure… her lips sucking around your soft, fleshy entrance. For a moment, it felt like little pinpricks, little razors, were raking and pushing into your pussy. It didn’t hurt as much as it tortured and overstimulated, causing a greater throb to your clit. You had to convince yourself it was her “regular” teeth and not some fangs that had suddenly sprouted. But you couldn’t be certain of that.

Everything felt muffled as you pushed deeper against the mattress, pink sheets encapsulating your view, skin tacky from the heated friction… Too soon had you felt the warning pressure coursing from your core to further down.

“Jen…” You felt embarrassed, a little shy… Incredibly turned on. “I’m gonna…”

“Go ahead, come for Mommy.” Her command was obstructed by her tongue thickly lapping and curling up from deep within up to the peak of your rosy clit. Saliva strung from her tongue and down her chin like an animal, except her cold eyes had glared at you with wanton intention.

“Please, Jen… Mommy…” you piped up, ashamed, but letting yourself go at the same time. You wanted to squeeze your thighs together at the itching, haze-inducing release, but didn’t dare crush Jennifer’s head. Instead a fragile, satisfied whine escaped, echoing strangely in a voice that didn’t quite sound like your own.

Jennifer’s mouth, glided over your pussy with a final lick, popping off with an unnecessary flair. She dabbed her chin and lips daintily before rearranging her posture and pouncing on you again. “Sorry. I might’ve drawn a little blood, but you tasted so good, babes.”

“I wasn’t sure what kind of, um, eating I was expecting.” You wanted to gulp like a cartoon, adrenaline high and nerves uncertain.

“Don’t worry, I typically only eat boys. But, uh, I can eat you like that again, if you like. Sometime. Whenever….” Jennifer’s blue stare caught yours, her lips curling into a sweet pout, her index finger locked into the spaghetti strap against your clavicle. Her eyes fell to that spot, as if she was considering biting you right there on the collarbone.

“Well, I’m usually free on this night during the week,” you bashfully replied.

[thecommunityfridge]

The Eye Roll

TW: Ageplay, diapers, humiliation, bedwetting, spanking, manipulation

This story was inspired by and costars (with her permission) the wonderful @dearchloe. Go check out her amazing work!

"No, Mister, no way! You have wet the bed five of the last six nights. I am done playing around. Five nights of wet pull-ups in a week means you sleep in the nursery until you can prove you deserve otherwise. No exceptions!" Miss Chloe lectured me as she fought to get me diapered and dressed for bed.

Miss Chloe, the domineering British woman who had shown up at my door one day, declared she was my Nanny, and somehow took over my life like an AB/DL Mary Poppins, wasn't wrong. I had wet the bed five of the last six nights, and I had invoked her prescribed consequence of having to move into my guest room turned nursery until I could prove I could keep my pants dry overnight.

Of course, it didn't matter to Miss Chloe that my accidents had all been her fault.

She had made me drink all that water right before bed every night, because 'I was too dehydrated.' She carefully monitored whether I got out of bed at night, spanking me for getting up before I had 'slept' a full ten hours, because 'I needed to get a good night's rest.'

How was I supposed to keep my pull-up dry when I was spanked every time I made a very necessary midnight run to the plastic potty she kept in her room, the only toilet I was allowed to use?

There was no use in explaining the unfairness of it all to Miss Chloe though. Each time I talked back, I was met with some explanation with infallible logic about how she was right, and I needed to just accept the well-deserved consequences of my actions. It was infuriating.

So, this time, instead of trying to justify my predicament, or talking back as Miss Chloe termed it, I tried a new tactic. I rolled my eyes hard, like a bratty preteen, turned my back on my self-declared Nanny, and said, "Whatever," with as much cool disdain as I could muster.

That was a bad idea.

Miss Chloe immediately rounded on me, getting in front of me, and cutting off any means of escape.

"Oh my! I didn't know my little poppet's eyes were so tired! That was quite the eye roll, Little One!"

I looked at my caretaker confused. Miss Chloe was usually much more in tune with why I did something than this. My eye roll wasn't because I was tired. It was a sign of disrespect and rebellion. It was a manifestation of my frustration with her domineering attitude.

I tried to tell Miss Chloe as much when she immediately cut me off.

"I mean, your eyes ~must~ be tired, because I know that a good little boy like you would never roll your eyes at me on purpose! If that was the case, why, I think you would definitely have to take a trip over Nanny's lap to be reacquainted with Mrs. Spoon!"

I physically swallowed my words. Miss Chloe had proven to be a savant with 'Mrs. Spoon,' and I was not ready to risk her wraith again.

"No! Of course not Miss Chloe, my eyes just must, um, be, very tired! It is bedtime after all!" I responded, backtracking faster than a cat walking in on a room of dogs playing poker.

"That's what I thought, you poor little thing. Let Miss Chloe help with that!"

My Nanny caressed my face as she spoke before placing a hand lightly on my back, leading me into the nursery I had been working so hard to avoid.

"I have just the thing to help those tired, little eyes of yours! Now stay right here!" Miss Chloe directed me, leaving me standing in the middle of the room. Standing there, I couldn't help but feel like the giant changing table, crib, and other furniture was silently standing guard over me as I listened to the warden of my infantile prison rummage through a dresser drawer behind me.

"Found it!" Miss Chloe exclaimed.

I felt her presence approaching behind me before, suddenly, the world went black. Something soft and totally opaque obstructed my vision. I raised my hands to pull the intruding object off my face only to hear as much as feel a loud smack as my hands were batted away.

"Nuh uh, my adorable little poppet. You leave that blindfold on! Those silly little eyes of yours need rest! Covering them and taking a much needed ni-night is the only fix for such worn out little peepers," Miss Chloe's said, her voice circling me as she spoke.

With the blindfold on, I felt so little and vulnerable. Despite this room being in my house for years, it's recent conversion to a nursery made it feel strange and foreign to me. Now, completely blind, I felt more like I was lost in some foreign country than in a room in my own home.

I strained my hearing, trying to catch any details to make me feel more comfortable in the nursery.

From my right, I could hear the soft hiss of the oil diffuser, emitting a soft, lavender scent. Behind me, a light ticking came from the small clock on the wall. From all around me, Miss Chloe's steps sounded soft and muffled by the clean, soft shag carpeting under her feet as she circled me.

"Alright, Little One! Let's get you ready for bed!" Miss Chloe's voice suddenly came from behind me.

Before I could turn, I felt the sharp tug of the shorts and pull-up I was wearing being yanked down from behind me. I felt my cheeks warm as cool air assaulted my exposed groin.

"Step!" Nanny ordered, lightly tapping my right leg.

I complied, lifting my right leg, listening to the crinkle of the pull-up as Miss Chloe removed my foot from my pullies' leg hole.

"Other foot!" Nanny's voice rang out from below me.

Just as before, I raised my leg as Nanny pulled my foot out of my shorts and pull-up. The sound of light rustling of my disposable undergarments my reward for compliance.

"Good job, poppet! You kept your pullies dry all day!" Miss Chloe said with a joy and sincerity in her voice that made her sound more like she was talking to a three-year-old than me, the 30-year-old standing half naked before her.

My blush deepened at her words.

"Thanks, Miss Chloe."

I wished I could see her facial expressions so I could at least guess at what she had in store for me next. Instead, I had to settle for the sharp sound of her hands clapping together.

"Alright, arms up! We're almost ready for jammies!"

With gentle hands, I felt my Nanny lift the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head, careful not to knock off the strip of cloth cutting off my vision. I heard Miss Chloe giggle once I was completely naked.

"There's my big boy! All nakey and ready for jammies!"

I felt Miss Chloe's hand wrap around mine and pull me forward. Hesitantly, but trusting that my self-appointed caregiver wouldn't let me hurt myself on accident, I let myself be led to the changing table that I knew from my memory was our destination.

"Hop on up!" Miss Chloe's voice intoned from beside me once we reached the table.

Delicately, I reached out and felt the soft padding and heard the loud crinkle of the plastic covered mattress set on top of the childish piece of furniture. Carefully, I lifted one leg into the table, only to be greeted by more soft crinkles. More confident, I lifted my second leg, getting my whole naked body carefully placed in the table.

I jumped a little as Miss Chloe's soft hands reached out for me, guiding me into the best position on the soft, cold plastic. With each movement of my body, I was reminded of my embarrassing situation by the crinkle of plastic.

Once I was safely on my back, without saying a word, Miss Chloe went to work.

I heard the soft rustle of fresh padding as she grabbed a diaper from under the changing table. The rustle only got louder as she folded and fluffed it.

I heard the sound of skin-on-skin before I felt it. The gentle slap to the side of my ass beckoned me to lift my naked tushy so Miss Chloe could slide the diaper underneath me. Resigned to my fate, I complied with the silent order, listening to the sound of the diaper sliding on the waterproof mattress on the changing table as the babyish garment was placed underneath me.

Still blind to the world, the next sound I heard was the almost imperceptibly noise of powder falling over my crotch. The sweet smell of talcum told me that Miss Chloe intended for me to stay in this padded monstrosity for at least my prescribed 10 hours of sleepy time tonight.

The diaper rustled again as my Nanny folded it up over my loins. The sound of the tapes being pulled and the light pressure of them being pressed flat signaled the end of my humiliating diapering was near.

"Perfect! A perfectly padded and properly protected little poppet!" Miss Chloe announced as I felt her gentle hands help me down from the changing table. "Now to get the sleepy boy into his jammies!"

I listened as Miss Chloe walked to the dresser pulled something out and returned to me.

As she did, I squeezed my legs together, marvelling at the thick feel of the diaper as well as how noisy it seemed in the otherwise quiet nursery. I didn't have long to examine my embarrassing new underwear before my Nanny returned with what was presumably pajamas.

In the reverse of being undressed, I stepped into what I could feel was a soft, fleece footie sleeper. I followed Miss Chloe's soft but firm instructions as she dressed me without question. Being blind to the world adding to my fear of the caring but dominate woman and made me more compliant.

The last noise as I was dressed was the tell-tale whir as the zipper was pulled up from behind me. The familiar noise signalling I was ready to be tucked into the horrible crib for the next ten hours.

"You're so adorable!" Miss Chloe preened as she guided me to the crib, my diaper whispering out my infantile state with each step.

Miss Chloe helped lift me into the tall piece of furniture. She helped me lay down, covering me with a soft blanket, before handing me what was I knew was a comically large baby bottle.

"Drink up!" my Nanny ordered as I heard her slide the side of the crib back in place, locking it with a sharp click.

I lifted the bottle to my lips and filled my ears with the gentle sucking sound that could only come from someone nursing the rubber teat of a bottle. A soft lullaby started playing from above me, signalling that Miss Chloe had turned on the mobile dangling over the bed.

A new click came from by the door, signalling that Miss Chloe had turned out the lights (a pointless gesture given I was already blindfolded).

"Goodnight, my sweet boy! Rest those tired eyes!" my Nanny called out as she shut the door to the nursery, locking me in.

As I lay suckling my bottle, diapered, blindfolded, and locked away in a crib, I couldn't help but relax. Maybe, I thought to myself as I drifted off to sleep and as I had many times before, Miss Chloe was right, and being put to bed in the nursery wasn't so bad.

[fictionalgap]

Steal your heart

(chapter 1)

Pairing: Kit Thantalos x Thief! Reader

Summary: You met princess on the way.

Warnings: +18 themes, swearing, Kit Thantalos uses the 'F' word.

Chapters: Chapter 2, Chapter 3,Chapter 4

Notes: Kit Thantalos is 20 years old in this fic. You are either younger than her or the same age with her.

Song Recommendation: Royals - Lorde

You never knew your real parents. Your step parents were thieves and you became one too. They were cool as long as you did what was expected of you. Your step dad died when you were fifteen and your mother wanted you to do some theft because it was usually them doing the theft and now your dad gone she had no motivation to do and you needed money.

You had friends who were thieves like you but your mom told you not to trust them.

"Never trust a thief."

She was right.

They left you on a job when it was hard to save you and now you were in an old horse wagon going to jail.

Thanks to your love of knives, you had multiple hidden in your pants. Two guards were looking and smirking in a mocking way into your direction.

"If we weren't taking thieves to the court I'd take you to my court, darling. " one filthy guard winked at your direction. You rolled your eyes and watched the roads you knew like the back of your hand. Your hand was trying to reach the small knife located inside of your waistband. Your hands were tied from front. It was really hard to do this while two mormons were watching you.

You had an idea.

"Well, maybe we can have some fun while on the road can't we? " You flashed a flirty smile and winked.

Two guards started to grin maliciously as they looked at each other.

"Come here. " You moved to the man's lap quickly. You were sitting on his lap and you saw his eyes moved to your breasts. You slideded your two finger in your waistband and grabbed the small knife then you put your arms around his neck, your hands tied. You waited him to touch you so you could gasp and open the knife without it making a sound. It was a closed knife. There was a small button on the knife. When he touched you you gasped loudly and you clicked it at the same time. It freed you from the ropes. Unfortunately the other guard saw the ropes falling.

"Stop the wagon. " you said in a heavy voice.

"No!" One guard shouted.

You hit the men who tried to grab you by face with your elbow and cut others chin while tried to grab you as well.

You jumped out of the wagon and rolled on the dirt for a while. Then you quickly landed on your feet and ran far away.

You ran for half an hour and now we're pretty tired. You realized you dropped your water bottle and groaned to yourself. You needed water immediately. You kept looking for a water source but everywhere around you was grass.

All of a sudden you heard someone shouting.

"Fuck!"

It was a girl's voice. You moved to see a 20 year oldish brunette who dressed like a knight in practice. You realized she was pretty too when you got close. You watched her behind the tree. You saw a middle length snake moving fast in a direction away from both of you. She was bit. You knew that snake it was lethal. From what you could remember, she had a couple of minutes left. You had to leave since guards were probably after you.

You couldn't.

You ran to the girl and when she saw you she clumsily drew her sword as she winced in pain.

"You don't have much time. Let me help."

She eyed you from head to toe and made some judgement inside her head then nodded fiercely.

"Fine." She dropped her sword and let herself relax on the grass.

The bite on her leg looked bad. You did what you have saw from your father when you were bitten.

"Okay. Do you know any healers around here? "

She was sweating and it made you worried.

"Yeah yeah. " She tried to nod.

"Good." You told her and you picked her up in bridal style. She wasn't light but she wasn't heavy either.

"Tell me where we are going. "

She started to get heavier as your dehydration got worse. It has been two days since you drank or eat anything.

You started to hear a ringing sound.

"Do you hear that? "

"Hear what? " she asked you. Her face was getting more pale.

"How do you feel? " You asked her as you hurried over the direction she showed you.

"Like I've been bit by a huge damn snake."

You rolled your eyes.

"Since you still keep your humor, I guess you're fine. " You said as you kept running with her in your arms.

~~~

You didn't think what it meant for you until the healers in the castle took her to save her life. Your back hurt like bitch and you felt like you were going to pass out in any moment.

You learned she was the princess when one healer shouted "Princess!"

You started to feel dizzy from dehydration and from the fact that you could be caught too easily now that you were in the castle. One of the healers came to your side. She was saying something to you but you didn't hear anything. Your ears filled with a ringing sound before you passed out.

For: @valenftcrush

[trektraveler]

My Hero

Summary: Doctor Sam WInchester had fallen hard for the woman living just down the hall. She was easily the most adorable and the most accident-prone creature he had ever met! Yet for all the times he came to her rescue, he was too shy to make a move. Maybe he could work up his courage, if he got just one more chance...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Sam x Reader, Doctor!Sam Winchester x You

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Garth, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, fluff

One Shot

Word Count: 3700

Author’s Notes: I swear, every time I get sick all I want is a Winchester to come and take care of me. Is that really so much to ask?? I think not! This is my very first Sam x Reader fic! I have a few more ideas rattling around for the youngest Winchester brother, but this is decent practice. For now. Enjoy!

     Bang.  Bang.  Bang.

     “Coming, coming!”  Sam pulled t-shirt over his head as he trotted to the front door.  He’d been getting ready for bed when the insistent knocking started.

     The door swung open to a very nervous young man in a Wong’s delivery uniform.  Sam recognized him from the few times he ordered from them. 

     “Hey, its Garth, right?”

     “Yeah,” he shifted on his feet, his eyes round with worry, “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

     Sam’s instantly shifted into his professional mode.  He was currently an attending at Lawrence General Hospital, having just moved back a year ago from L.A.  It had been an adjustment, but a welcome one.  Big city life didn’t suit Sam at all. 

     “I am.  What’s going on?’

     “I was dropping off an order down the hall to the lady in 302 and I heard this thud behind the door and now I can’t get her to answer.  I think something’s wrong.”

     Sam was already grabbing his medical bag, “Show me.”

     302.  He knew the woman who lived there.  More or less.  They kept running into each other.  He first discovered her fighting with the soap dispenser in the laundry room.  Then again when she locked herself out of the building during a thunderstorm.  And then last week when the elevator got stuck between floors.  He always seemed to be wandering by when she needed a rescue.  She was funny, smart, accident prone, and completely adorable. 

     Sam had been working up the courage to ask her out, but something always seemed to crop up.  An extra shift at the hospital or a birthday party for a colleague.  He knew it was an excuse.  For all of his professional success, Sam was, and always had been, extremely shy.

     “Y/N?”  He knocked loudly on the closed door, then tried the handle and found it locked. 

     “Alright, stand back,” he said to Garth.  In one powerful move, Sam kicked the door in, the heel of his foot landing in just the right spot to splinter the doorjamb. 

     “Damn,” Garth blew out an impressed breath, “You aren’t even wearing shoes.”

     You were laying in the foyer.  Curled on your side with your hair spread out like a halo.  A wallet sat a few inches away from outstretched fingers. 

     Sam was at your side in an instant, gingerly turning you over and searching for a pulse, “Y/N?  Can you hear me?”

     Garth hovered nearby, nerves in his voice, “Is she okay?”

     Sam ran a hand over your forehead, “She’s burning up.  Go see if you can find a washcloth and a glass of water.”

     His worry only grew when he carried you to the couch and you still didn’t come to.  He held your limp body up with one hand while he worked your hoodie off with the other, leaving you in a tank top and yoga pants.  He’d strip that off you too, if he had to.  Every inch of bare skin he touched felt like it was on fire! 

     “Why isn’t she waking up?”  Garth asked handing Sam a kitchen towel.

     “Dehydration.  With a fever this high, it can happen quick.”  Sam dipped the towel in the water filled coffee mug and bathed your face and neck.  Sure enough, his efforts were rewarded.

     You groaned, even that soft sound reverberated through your pounding head.  Everything hurt and all you wanted was to slip back into the blankness of sleep.   But it was so noisy!  Someone kept talking, like the parents in a Snoopy cartoon.  Unintelligible, insistent, and so annoying!

     Sam gently tapped your cheeks, “Y/N.  Come on, darlin.  Open your eyes for me.”

     With a bit of coaxing, you did as he asked.  Everything around you swirled and slowly came into focus.  Your head felt heavy and fell to the side, Sam was there and smiled down at you.  As a reflex, you smiled back before your fevered brain could catch up and tell you who you were looking at.

     “Hey… it’s my hero.”

     Sam chuckled in relief, “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”

     “You’re here.  That’s so nice… why are you here?”

     “You passed out,” he replied, pressing the cool cloth to your brow.  “Do you remember what happened?”

     You tried to search your memory, but everything was so fuzzy!  “Um, I came home from work… I was sick.  Felt really bad.  Everything hurt.  Achy and cold.  Headache.  Then I ordered soup from the place down on Main Street.  I dunno…I feel a little out of it.”

     There was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around your bicep that was inflating.  Where did that come from?  Sam was doing that doctor thing where they listen to you talk while taking vitals at the same time.   

     How did doctors do that?  Did they teach that in med school?  It seemed especially confusing to you as your thoughts kept skipping away and going down rabbit holes.

     Cool fingers felt under your jaw, pressing against swollen lymph nodes.  He always had such a gentleness about him.  Such grace.  Surprising for a man of his size, but he seemed to take such care with you.  Like you were the most rare, delicate creature in the world.

     Last week when you found yourself stuck in the elevator, it was Sam who answered your call.  He muscled open the doors single handed and lifted you up though the opening without breaking a sweat.  You were more than a little awe struck by his display of strength and chivalry.  If you’d had half a brain, you’d have invited him for coffee as a thank you.  As it was, you were preoccupied with being late to work.  A sadly missed opportunity with your handsome neighbor.

     “You came home from work, was that last night?”

     “Um, yeah.  Yes.  As if Mondays aren’t sucky enough.”

     Sam’s eyebrows rose, “That was two days ago.”

     “What?”

     “Today’s Wednesday.”

     That information had you on the move.  You sat straight up and instantly went white.  The room titled and if it weren’t for Sam’s hands steadying your shoulders, you probably would have slid right off the couch.

     “Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Not so fast,” Sam advised, forcing you to recline.

     “I gotta go call work… or… somebody.”

     “The only place you are going is to the E.R.”

     “No, I can’t go to the hospital.”

     “Y/N, listen to me.  You’re dehydrated to the point that you fainted.  Your fever is 103, that’s dangerous territory.” 

     Sam tried to be stern, but he just didn’t have it in him.  You looked so pitiful with your hair sticking to the sweat slick skin and the dark smudges under your eyes.  You were desperately sick and he wasn’t going to simply leave you without treatment.

     “I know a lot of people are scared of the doctor, but I promise I’ll be right there with you.”

     You swallowed, wincing at the feeling of knives in your throat.  “I’m not scared, I’m uninsured.  My job is new, benefits don’t kick in for thirty days.”

     Garth piped up, “You’re a doctor, can’t you just prescribe something and treat her here?”

     “It’s not that simple.  She needs to be admitted so they can get an I.V. going and get some fluids into her system.  And bring that fever under control.”

     He felt your head loll against him.  He looked down in alarm and found you’d lost consciousness again. 

     “Y/N?  Wake up, Y/N!” 

     This time no amount of effort would bring you around. 

     “Damn it,” Sam growled as he got to his feet.  He grabbed a notepad from your entry table and scribbled a list down.  “Do you know that walk-in clinic on 42nd street?”

     Garth followed him, “Yeah, I pass it on my way to work.”

     “Great.  My brother is on call there tonight, go in and ask for Dean.  Tell him it’s for me, he’ll help you.”  Sam tore off the list and thrust it into Garth’s hand, “Get everything and hurry!”

     Garth shoved the paper in his pocket, “What if they don’t believe me?  That clinic isn’t in the best part of town, junkies hassle them all the time.”

     “Dean will believe you but in case he doesn’t say Poughkeepsie.  It’s our go word, means drop everything.”

     “A secret code word, you guys must be brothers,” Garth muttered on his way out the door.

     You woke feeling warm.  Bundled up in something soft and secure.  Your eyes stayed closed as you enjoyed the luxurious feeling.  Most mornings you woke up stiff with your muscles complaining about the ancient futon you had yet to replace.  It was left over from college and the wood slats dug into your hips, but moving to a new town was expensive!  Anything like a proper mattress would have to wait until you had a few more paychecks under your belt.

     You stretched a bit, content to roll over and fall back into your dreams, but something tugged on your hand and pinched.  You frowned and tried again; it was like you were caught in a fishing net. 

     “What the hell…?”  You grumbled unhappily, determined to keep your eyes closed out of stubbornness.  You blindly felt around and found a tube and tape attached to your right hand.

     Your eyes popped open.  An I.V.?

     You weren’t in your bed.  You weren’t in your room!  Where the hell were you? 

     The dimensions matched your bedroom, but it wasn’t bare bones like yours.  This one was painted a lovely smoke grey.  Bookshelves lined one wall and a mahogany dresser matched it on the other.  The bed was the biggest you’d ever seen.  The headboard was massive and intricately carved.  The mattress was firm but yielding. 

     The bedside table housed bottles of medication, a stethoscope, a digital thermometer, and a glass of water.  You remembered being sick.  Sicker than you’d ever felt.  You remembered your boss sending you home then… nothing.  Just a blur. 

     You sat up slowly.  When the room didn’t spin, you decided to press your luck.  You pulled back the covers enough to dangle your feet over the edge.  Your toes found plush carpet.  You felt weak, but not dizzy.  And you were cold without the blankets.  Looking down you found bare legs.  You were wearing only your tank top and Wonder Woman underwear. 

     Fuck.  Where the hell are my clothes?!

     With a quick yank, you pulled the I.V. out and headed for the door. 

     “Yeah, Dean I know.  If I promise to wash and wax your car, will you get off my case?”

     “No way in hell you are waxing my Baby, do I need to remind you about Liza Raffaella in the eighth grade?”

     “Please don’t,” Sam groaned into the phone. 

     “It’s wax on, wax off.  Not wax on, go chat up a nerd girl for three hours while the wax bakes on in the sun!”

     “Sam?”

     Sam spun at the raspy voice behind him.  You were standing in the hall, your hand braced against the wall for balance.  You looked a little wobbly, but far better than you had in hours.

     “I gotta go,” he told his brother before ending the call.  “Y/N, hey.  How you feeling?”

     “Confused.  How did I get here and where are my clothes?”

     “Oh!”  Sam’s cheeks colored instantly as he grabbed a soft, woven throw from the back of an over-sized chair.  He draped it over your shoulders and ushered you to the sofa.

     “Sorry about that, your fever was sky high.  Needed to bring it down in a hurry.  Here, sit.”

     You sank down onto a couch that was just as comfortable as the bed you’d woken up in.  Sam disappeared into the kitchen then returned with a glass of ginger ale and some crackers.  He was rattling off something about Chinese takeout and your pants being in the laundry.  All the while he was fussing over you.  His long fingers found the pulse point on your wrist, and he produced a pen light from somewhere to check your pupils.

     After a few minutes, he realized you were staring at him, “Y/N?”

     “Sam, grateful that I am for your hospitality and bedside manner… I still don’t understand why I’m here.” 

     “Well, I figured it would be a better place for you to recover… with all the construction.”

     Now you were really confused, “Construction?”

     Sam rubbed the back of his neck and embarrassment turned his ears pink, “Yeah.  I ah… I kinda broke down your door.”

     “What?!”

     “You weren’t answering!  I just had a really bad feeling, and I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

     His gaze traveled your face then locked on your eyes.  “I was worried about you.”

     You looked at him, really looked.  He was beautiful, as he always was, but there was an edge of exhaustion to his features.  His five o’clock shadow was darker than you’d ever seen it.  The fine lines around his eyes and lips were etched deeper and his hazel eyes were slightly red.  Even his enviable hair was disheveled. 

     “So, you committed destruction of property to save my life?”

     “I did.”  He gave a nod, his tone teasing, “You gonna turn me in?”

     A small smile played around your lips, “Nah.  I might need your services again.  I have a habit of getting into trouble.  Nice to know I’ve got my own personal hero on call.”

     “You call, I’ll come running.”

Two Years Later:

     “That was not our first date!”

     “We spent the entire weekend curled up in my bed, it counts.”

     “I was unconscious!”

     “Not the whole time,” Sam countered, threading his fingers through yours, “Sometimes you’d wake up.  Of course, you were delirious.  You did have some of the most creative fever dreams… what was that one about the Catholic church hiding the existence of extra-terrestrials by dressing them up like the clergy?”

     “They were hiding dinosaurs, not aliens.  Tiny dinosaurs under their creepy old lady robes.  And still, not a date.  I think you’ll find most dating experts would agree with me on this.”

    “Dating experts?”

     “Your brother.”

     Sam huffed out a laugh, “Don’t be fooled by the rumors, he’s not the Casanova everyone thinks he is.”

     “I dunno, guy gets a lot of dates.”

     “First dates.  Ask him about his batting average for second dates.”

     “Oh yeah?  Got him beat, do you?”

     “Hands down.”

     Sam curled a finger under your chin and brought his lips down to meet yours.  You hummed happily as an electric spark zinged all the way down to your toes.  It was crazy that even after two years he still managed to excite you with just a touch, or a look.  You never had to doubt his feelings for you, he wore them openly and proudly.  He never missed the opportunity to hold your hand in the grocery store or to wrap his arm around your shoulders at the movies.   A kiss to the temple, a hand at the small of your back.  Every touch was filled with the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day.  Every night was filled with the heat and passion of desire that could never be sated. 

     You leaned into Sam’s side as he guided the two of you down the winding path that cut through the willows.  “So, tell me Doctor Winchester, why haven’t I been to your family’s estate before?”

     “I wouldn’t call it an estate, it’s just a few acres.”

     “I don’t care if it’s a patch of dead grass… you have horses!  Horses, Sam!  I’ve wanted to go horseback riding since I was ten.”

     “We might be able to squeeze in a lesson for you before we head home.”

     “Really?!”

     “I’ll bet you’re a natural, you’re already an expert with a riding crop,” he whispered in your ear.

     “Sam!”  You admonished him, instantly turning red, “That was a one time!”

     “Best birthday ever.  And to answer your question; you haven’t been here before because I was waiting.”

     The path curved and opened up to a decent sized pond.  A dock jutted out onto the clear, still waters and ended in an elaborate gazebo.  Painted a picturesque white and topped with a copper finial, hundreds of tiny fairy lights hung from the rafters glittering with magic and romance. 

     “Oh wow,” you breathed, following Sam down the planks.  “This is like something out of a book.  God, it’s beautiful!”

     “My parents built this place from the ground up.  Mom had this vision in her head about a pond where she could come and watch ducks.  Teach her kids to swim and fish.  So, one summer, Dad started digging.  I don’t think he even had a plan, all the neighbors thought he was crazy!  But he was stubborn and determined.  And he loved my mom more than anything.”

     You walked out to the end of the platform and leaned out on the railing.  Dragonflies danced along the surface of the water as the sun began to set and the crickets started to sing.  “He did a great job.  Did he build the gazebo too?”

     “Anniversary present,” he confirmed, joining you by the railing.  “This was my favorite spot when I was a kid.  Dean loved the garage, hanging with Dad and tearing apart trucks with the radio blasting.  I couldn’t stand the noise, so I’d come out here.  Even in the winter.”

     Suddenly, a swan flew down and landed in the middle of the water.  Graceful and noble, it glided across the water sending the slightest of ripples out in its wake.  As it turned, you could see a single black feather against the white of its tail. 

     “Oh!  I’ve never seen a swan with one black feather.”

     “He’s always had it, never could figure out why.  He showed up when I was ten and just never left.  I call him Solomon.”

     “Is it just him?  I thought swans always paired up?”  

     “Well, that’s the thing, they do have mates for life, but he showed up alone.  And I know it sounds silly, but he was mopey.  He didn’t take a lot of interest in anything; he didn’t interact with the ducks or even pay any attention to me when I tried to feed him.  He was sad.  Some animals grieve and I think he was grieving for his lost mate.”

     “Poor guy,” you murmured, watching as Sam took a packet of birdseed from his pocket and tossed a bit out on the water. 

     “When I left for college, Solomon migrated and didn’t come back in the spring.  I thought I’d seen the last of him, but then I got a call from Mom this past summer.  He was back and he brought someone with him.”

     As if on cue, a second swan swooped down and landed beside Solomon.  Pure white and just as lovely.  They looked like a postcard, gliding on the sunlit water.

     “You’re kidding!  He found another mate?  I didn’t know swans would do that!”

     “Some do, special cases.  And Solomon’s no fool, he might have been content to be alone forever, but when that right one came along, he snapped her up.”

     “That’s amazing!”  You turned to Sam with a beaming grin, but stopped short when you realized he wasn’t standing there beside you.  He was kneeling. 

     “Sam.”

     He took both of your hands in his, tipping his face back to gaze up at you with such tenderness and devotion it made your breath catch.

     “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time.  I knew what I wanted to do and how I wanted it to look, but the words never came.  Everything I wrote seemed inadequate.  Even the word love falls short.  It’s not enough, it’s not big enough.  Being with you is a revelation, Y/N.  You call me your hero, but baby… it’s the other way around.  You rescued me.”

     Tears had already gathered in your eyes when he pulled out a blue velvet box.  A diamond solitaire sparkled inside like a star in the sky. 

     “I don’t know if I’ll ever have the words, but I swear to show you.  To treasure you, to make your happiness my mission.  To answer your call and to love you for all my days.”

     You dropped down to your knees and tackled him.  Your arms flung around his neck, nearly knocking him over in your enthusiasm.   He caught you with a laugh and kept the two of you from tumbling off into the water.  You kissed every square inch of the face you’d loved since he first rescued you.  And you laughed.  Joy bubbled up from your heart like effervescent Champagne.

     “You astonishing,” Kiss. “Brilliant,” kiss. “Romantic,” kiss, kiss. “Beautiful,” kiss, kiss, kiss.

     “Y/N… baby…”

     “Yes?” Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

     His hands wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back slightly so he could look into your eyes.  He traced the curve of your face, fondly tucking your hair behind your ear.  You were always moving, always racing towards everything in life.  It was something he loved about you, your exuberance.  Your passion!  You burned so bright, his light even on the darkest days. 

     “Will you marry me?”

     Your brow creased in confusion before you realized, he didn’t actually say the words a moment ago.  You been so excited that he never got the chance. 

     “Yes,” you nodded, your forehead coming to rest against his. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

     Sam slipped the ring onto your finger, “Will you look at that?  Perfect fit.”

     “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”  You shifted so that you were sitting in his lap, your hand cupped his jaw, “I should tell you up front that I tend to get into trouble, there’s a good chance that you’ll be required to rescue me from time to time.”

     “Good thing rescuing you is my second favorite activity.”

     “Second favorite?”

     “Yeah,” he murmured against the curve of your neck, “Let me show you the front runner.”

     Before long, Sam had swept you away in a haze with his deft fingers and clever tongue.  The title of Hero that you bestowed on him became a running joke through the years and then a loving nickname.  But that didn’t make it any less true.  He’d always been a hero, and now he was yours. TAGLIST @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetryy @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witchly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007

[catierambles]

Alternate Instincts Ch.5

Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)

WC 787 (sorry for shortness)

Warnings: Uhhhhh *vague I dunno sounds*

The house was quiet and dark, everyone having gone to bed. Stephanie was laying on the couch, politely declining the offers the others made for her to take their bed while they slept on the floor. Jordan wasn’t going to kick the door down of a cabin filled with Alpha wolves (and one Beta, as Mike had let her know), so she was good where she was. She looked up from her phone briefly as a figure moved past the couch into the kitchen. She heard the fridge open then close and they came back through, stopping behind the couch.

“What?” She asked, looking up briefly again at August standing there, a bottle of water in his hand. “Being kinda creepy right now, my guy.”

“You need to leave.”

“Tried that.” She said, resuming her doomscrolling. “Sy is kind of adamant that I not leave, as I’m his, Geralt’s, and apparently Mike’s Mate. They would rather I not die a horrible death, and I’m not too keen on the idea either, actually.”

“All three of them?”

“That’s what they told me.” She said and there was a pause.

“Sure got them pussy whipped, don’t you.” He said and she looked up at him slowly.

“Fuckin’ pardon?” She asked, “I actually haven’t had sex with any of them. So, you know--” She flipped him off with her free hand. “Fuck you.”

“Classy.”

“I’m just matching your energy, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Asshole.” She said and while he didn’t say anything, he didn’t leave either, and the weight of his eyes was starting to make the skin between her shoulders itch. Hauling herself off the couch, she put her phone in the pocket of the flannel sleep pants Mike loaned her. Sy and Walter had gotten her things from the campsite, Jordan’s were already gone, but it was colder than had been forecasted so the shorts she had packed weren’t going to cut it.

“Where are you going?”

“You care now?” She asked, and went to the front door, flipping back the locks and heading outside. The night air was cool, filling her lungs as she breathed in deep. She needed to call her boss, let her know what was going on. Heather was a wolf, too, and it made sense now why Jordan always avoided meeting her. She probably would have known right away that he was a Feral and contacted the Pack Council.

A deep growling filtered through the night air and she looked over, seeing the massive black wolf walk slowly out of the shadows from the back of the house. Glacial blue eyes glowed at her through the darkness, lips curling back away from sharp canines.

Don’t move. Don’t run. Run and you’re prey. Keep looking at them, maintain eye contact.

It kept advancing on her and she wanted to look around for a stick, or something, but that would require her looking away. It stopped in front of her, ears pinned back, still growling. A self-superior look passed through those eyes. Wait.

“No.” She said, holding his nose and the growling stopped, ears perking up in surprise. “Really? This is how you try to throw your dick around? Fuck off.” She pushed his muzzle away and he pressed in closer to her, sniffing around her, making her lean back a little. “August…” He shifted back, the sight of his limbs contorting and body reforming making her stomach turn a little. “And you’re naked.” The plain, somewhat boring, shirts he wore hid how absolutely massive he was in musculature, his shoulders broad, his chest and stomach that was covered in a layer of dark hair defined but not overly so, making him look strong, not dehydrated. Only Geralt was bigger, and not by much. She didn’t let her eyes go any further south than his belly button before she turned them back up at him, the look in his eyes making her swallow heavily.

“Motherfucker.” He hauled her against him and almost off her feet with an arm around her waist, weaving his fingers in her hair, his lips crashing down on hers hard. The cut on her lip from earlier reopened making her wince, but he didn’t seem to notice. His mustache rasped over her upper lip, the force of his kiss making her toes curl and she found herself responding to him as the image of his wolf flashed over her mind, the phantom feeling of fur sliding over her skin making her shiver. “Goddamnit.” He growled as he broke the kiss. “You’re not leaving.”

“But you--”

“You’re not going anywhere until that Feral is in the ground.”

“August,” Stephanie said, her hands curling around his biceps. “Am I--”

“You’re my fucking Mate.”

[yujo-nishimura]

The Escape - Part 35

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 - Part 31 - Part 32 - Part 33 - Part 34

Just as Crocodile's dry lips are about to touch yours, you realize the direness of the situation. However, before it's too late to escape, his head jerks back abruptly, and his grip on you loosens. A voice breaks through the tension, declaring, "That is not how you treat a lady." It dawns on you that the cook from earlier had not only interrupted the forced kiss but also delivered a powerful kick to Crocodile's head, causing him to stumble and fall onto the dusty street.

"Gum-Gum..." you hear Luffy's voice as his stretchy arms swiftly grab hold of you, pulling you away with incredible strength from the dark street corner and into the safety of his chest. "And now we run!" he announces with a laugh, holding onto you tightly as he propels both of you forward. Overwhelmed by the sudden assistance of your friends, you follow their lead, with Luffy refusing to let go of you and Nami directing your path with urgent shouts.

Under the scorching sun, panting and sweating, you continue to run, fully aware that your life depends on it. Finally, you arrive at the harbor, where the familiar sight of the beautiful ship you had seen before comes into view. Luffy and you come to a halt in front of the ship, while Nami hurriedly urges you to get on board with her. Luffy remains steadfast on the ground, preparing himself for a potential fight.

Breathless, you make it onto the deck, gripping onto the railing as you bend over, calling out to Luffy, "You don't need to fight him, Luffy. He's so much stronger than you!" In that moment, your best friend turns around, sporting a wide smile, warming up his muscles for whatever lies ahead. "He hurt you. I will never let anyone hurt my friends," he declares with unwavering determination.

Nami gently touches your arm, signaling for you to follow her. Suddenly, weakness floods your legs, making it almost impossible to move. "Luffy will be fine. If anyone can beat Crocodile's ass, it's him...!" the navigator assures you in a soothing tone. But before you can fully comprehend her words, you collapse. Darkness envelops your senses, sounds elongate and pierce through your head. You lose control over your limbs, feeling as though you are falling into a deep, dark abyss.

As consciousness slips away, the last thought that crosses your mind is of Buggy. You hold onto the hope that he is safe and well, even in the midst of your own uncertainty. 

As you awaken, you find yourself staring into the worried but adorable face of a small reindeer wearing a funny hat. Its human-like expressions catch you off guard, nearly causing you to tumble out of the bed you're lying in. "She woke up, Luffy!" the reindeer exclaims.

You shift your gaze to the side and see Luffy, who had been sitting there in a half-asleep state, hugging himself in a comfortable-looking position. "Y/n!" he exclaims joyfully, ready to leap towards you and embrace you in relief. However, the little reindeer restrains his movement, asking him to take it easy on you. "Y/n is still recovering. She needs rest and plenty of water!"

"What happened?" you manage to ask, your voice feeble.

"You were dehydrated and poisoned. It seems Crocodile must have given you something..." the little reindeer explains, displaying a deep understanding of the situation that immediately reassures you. "Poison...?" You attempt to sit up but are met with a sudden stinging pain from your left hip—the very spot where Crocodile had injured you before. You flinch and fall back onto your pillow.

"Please don't move!" the reindeer urges. "The poison was likely injected through the wound on your hip. I administered some neutralizing medication, but the wound itself has become infected and will require time to heal."

"Are we still in Alabasta?" you inquire.

"No, we've left!" Luffy beams at you, instantly making you feel safe and welcomed.

"And Crocodile...?"

"Sanji took care of him before we set sail. You're safe now!" The reindeer, Tony Tony Chopper, also smiles warmly at you.

You express your gratitude to Chopper for his help, but your energy wanes, and you sink back into your pillow, too weak to say more. Throughout your journey—from leaving the Snowland Pirates with the aspiration of becoming an independent pirate, to encountering little Buggy and Gaimon, and eventually joining Buggy's crew, falling in love with him, and battling Baroque Works—you had never truly experienced freedom or independence. The initial reason for leaving the Snowland Pirates had merely thrown you into another form of dependency, leaving you devoid of control over your own decisions. As you lie there in the cozy bed, too weak to get up, being cared for by your best friend and a reindeer, a sense of self-pity washes over you, mourning the helplessness you've been forced into. If there was just one decision you could make for yourself, one choice you longed to exercise, it was to reclaim the innocence Captain Buggy had stolen from you.

"Luffy..." you whisper, your eyes closed, hoping your friend can hear your plea. He leans in closer, his ear near your mouth, trying to catch your words.

"Promise me that we will find Buggy!" Tears well up in your eyes as you make this request, feeling the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates take hold of your hand, offering a gentle reassurance.

"Of course we will," he responds, leaving you to rest a while longer under the watchful eyes of Doctor Chopper.

[mysticwhump]

Warning: lady whump, sadistic Whumper. Hogtie, chains, starvation and dehydration mentioned. Electrocution and whipping mentioned. Lady whumper

Whumpee winces as the chains bite into their wrists, trailing up their arms. Her legs are tied together, and she tries to wriggle out of them. She stops, panting, as it does nothing, and tears start falling.

Footsteps echo around her, and Whumpee struggles again. A laugh sounds, and Whumpee stops.

"Oh, darling! You shouldn't have stopped, watching you wriggle like a worm is hilarious!" Whumper bends down, grabbing Whumpees' chin to look them in the eyes. "You're almost broken, then we can start on the fun. And I can't wait."

"Please, please, let me go, I w..won't tell anyone, please." Whumpee begs. Whumper smirks.

"As much as I love you begging, I don't want that yet. Let's get this done properly." Whumper says.

She drops the bag she's holding, and starts rooting around in it. The first thing she grabs is more chains and Whumpee whimpers, sighing as they're set to the side. A large foam sponge and a big ball gag is pulled out next.

"Here we go. Now, this might hurt a little."

Whumper shoves the sponge into Whumpees mouth. It expands quickly as Whumpee tries to shove it out, earning a slap from Whumper. The ball gag pushes the foam deeper, and Whumpee gags as Whumper latches the gag on so tightly the skin around the band turns red.

"Oh dear. Darling, does it hurt?" Whumper asks, watching as Whumpee starts crying more. Whumpee tries to speak, and muffled noises come out. "Well, I don't hear you complaining. And don't worry, it's going to get much much worse, darling! This is just the start! Oh, I can just see you blubbering as I electrocute you, as the whip digs into your skin. But we're not there yet, darling." Whumper pats Whumpees face.

"Now, those restraints seem too loose, don't you think?" Whimper asks, looking at the restraints on the legs. "Look at this, it's not even digging in properly, your skin is barely red. This is a reminder that I should've just done it myself, but I was busy. We can fix this."

Whumper hums as she undoes the chains. Whumpee tries to kick out, earning another slap and Whumper grabs her legs, the chains winding around her ankles, twice, biting into the skin. Whumper moves up and does the same thing halfway between ankles and knees, again at the knees, and on the thighs, each time winding the chains tight. At the end, Whumper smiles and moves back.

"Oh yes, that looks so much better, doesn't it darling? Does it hurt more? I hope so." Whumper asks. "Now, for the arms! If you try to attack me again, you will regret it, understand?"

Whumpee nods. She can't escape with her legs bound anyway, and maybe being compliant will bring mercy.

Whumper unties the arm chains, tying them again tightly. The chains wind around Whumpees' wrists, between the wrists and elbows, the elbows, and the forearms. Whumpee whines at the last one, as it pulls her shoulders back in an agonizing motion. Whumper grins and tugs on it again, making her whine again.

"Oh, you are making the most amazing sounds! It's too bad that I have to wait a few days before playing with you again."

Whumper starts pulling Whumpees' legs backwards to her wrists, tying them together once Whumpee is in a hogtie position. She walks around to stare Whumpee in the eye.

"Oh yes, you look like you're in agonizing pain." Whumper says softly. Whumpee whines. "One last touch."

The chain wraps loosely around Whumpees' neck, tightening as her head is forced back, the chain being tied to her wrists.

Whumpee cries softly. Her shoulders ache from being pulled back, her body is already throbbing from the chains, her jaw aches from the ball gag, and her breathing is becoming laboured from the chain and the gag.

"I wonder how it'll feel after a day of this. Will it be worse? Will you go numb?" Whumper muses. "Of course, you'll find out, and you'll tell me when I come back in a few days. Oh, yes. I probably should have asked you, but it doesn't matter much! I hope you can go awhile without food and water."

Whumpee whines and moans.

"Well, see. I have plans. I'm off to go have dinner. But you? You're going to stay here, in this position, until I decide to return. And even if I decide to untie you, you're going to have to earn the right to beg to eat and drink. I'm thinking...well, the longest time a human can go without eating is 7 days, and 3 days with no water." Whumper smirks as she makes her way to the door. "But I think you could beat that record, don't you? Have fun!" Whumper leaves, the footsteps getting quieter.

[just-a-girl-who-wrytes]

Part 9 ❤️🍼💍

The following week, David was sitting next to Nikki in her first OBGYN appointment. She had just had her blood work drawn and they were waiting to be called back into the ultrasound room. 

When her name was called, she stood up, excited but hesitant. She was remembering this very same walk when she carried Dakota, but oh, how different this time was.She felt David squeeze her hand which snapped her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she hadn’t moved after standing up. 

“Ready, babe?” He asked softly. 

She nodded and they followed the ultrasound tech into the room. The ultrasound was to determine how far along she was since she had no earthly idea. She was sent to the bathroom to undress from the waist down and returned with a sheet around her lower half. Deacon and the nurse helped her up onto the table. She placed her feet in the stirrups in preparation for the vaginal ultrasound. 

Nikki couldn’t put her finger on it, but there was something calming about the love of her life being next to her throughout this process. The human body was nothing to be embarrassed about to Nikki, but she dealt with the nitty gritty on a regular basis. She knew a lot of women felt uncomfortable exposed like this - laying on a table, spread eagle. She knew a lot of women didn’t like a hint of light being on if their pants were down, but David didn’t make her feel like that. She appreciated that. 

David sat on the side of Nikki opposite the ultrasound tech with one hand over Nikki’s on her belly, his other hand stroking the hair on her head. David struggled to make out what he was looking at on the screen as the tech entered the probe into Nikki, but soon saw a little bean shaped baby on the screen. Nikki started crying as soon as she saw their baby and heard the heart beat. Tears welled up in Deacon’s eyes as well. 

“Baby…” Nikki cried. 

“I see, darling.” Deacon said, his tone of voice like a hug to Nikki’s soul. “Isn’t our baby beautiful?”

Deacon pulled Nikki’s hand to his lips and kissed it as they watched their baby wiggle around on the screen and the tech took pictures and measurements. 

“You’re measuring approximately 11 weeks along,” the tech said, “but your blood work will also confirm that too.”

“Thank you so much.” Nikki said. 

 

Once the ultrasound was over, Nikki and Deacon followed the tech to their exam room. The doctor came in and told Nikki that her bloodwork confirmed we was 11 weeks and 3 days along, however her electrolytes were off from being sick and not eating and she was extremely dehydrated. After the birth control was removed from Nikki’s arm, the couple were sent to another area of the office where Nikki received an IV and fluids filled with electrolytes accompanied by some IV nausea medicine. 

 

Deacon knew Nikki had felt bad, but didn’t realize it was to the point of needing IV fluids, replacement electrolytes, and IV nausea

medication. Nikki admitted to him she didn’t realize that either. Regardless, a new Nikki walked out of the doctor’s office and he was so relieved to see her color back, her seemingly feeling better, and most of all - ready to eat. Deacon was thankful for everything that day: Nikki, her health, her feeling better, and most of all - their baby. He opened Nikki’s door for her and helped her in before taking his place in the driver’s seat. 

“Where would you like to eat, baby?” Deacon asked, reaching his arm across the console and resting his hand on her lower belly. 

“Mmmm..” Nikki started. 

“No.” Deacon cut her off, “I asked the baby. Not you.”

He held her gaze with a serious look for a moment and then winked at her. 

she laughed and popped his arm with her hand. 

“A cheeseburger sounds delectable.” Nikki said. 

“Easy, babe, you’re drooling.” Deacon tapped her chin with his index finger as he laughed, “But seriously, whatever you want, my love. As long as I get to see you eat something.” 

 

The couple were snuggled up watching a movie and eating supper when David’s pager went off signaling he had to leave. Nikki got off of the couch with David to hug him goodbye. He put on his badge and his gun before wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. 

“I love you so much, beautiful.” David said, burying his face in her hair. “I love both of you.”

Nikki kissed Deacon’s neck, then his jaw, resting on his lips. 

Deacon pulled away first, got down on his knees, lifted Nikki’s shirt up, and kissed her belly. 

“Daddy loves you, baby.” He said against Nikki’s skin. 

Nikki couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she watched and listened to David talk to their unborn baby. 

“Be safe, sweetheart,” Nikki said while David stood to his feet. They kissed again before she watched him leave. 

 

“What’s got you grinning like the Cheshire cat?” Luca asked when he saw his teammate walk into the building. 

Deacon chuckled, “Nikki went to the doctor today. She got some fluids and medicine. She’s done a complete 180. Man, I’m so glad she’s feeling like herself again.”

“Admit it, Deac, that’s only so you can get some.” Hondo chuckled, walking by Deacon and patting him on the shoulder. 

“You got me!” Deacon pointed at Hondo, following him with his index finger. 

The team joked together for a few minutes before Hondo gave them the run down of why they were all there. 

Once the mission was complete, David was more than ready to return home to his girl and their baby. He needed her in his arms.

 

The next morning, David woke to Nikki snuggled up next to him, tracing circles in his chest. 

“I’m ready to be your wife…” 

David perked up, waking up more when he heard Nikki say those words. 

“Hmmm, is that so?” He asked. 

“Are you not?” Nikki had a hint of concern in her voice. 

“Why don’t we go today?” 

Nikki pulled her head off of his shoulder and propped herself up on her elbow to look at him.

“What?”

“I said… why don’t we get married today?” David brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “All we have to do is go down to the magistrates office, sign a marriage license, say some vows, and you’re Mrs. Kay.” He smiled at her in a way that gave her butterflies. 

“What about an engagement?” 

“Do we need one to know we want to get married?” 

“Well… I guess not… Dress and suit?”

“We can go buy you a dress, I have my class A uniform.”

“Witnesses?”

“I have an entire team that would be thrilled to be our witnesses.”

“Rings?”

“Let’s go pick em out, baby.”

“And a honeymoon?”

“We can take a honey/babymoon in 3 or so months - let you feel a little less miserable but not about to pop and it will give us time to plan a good trip.” 

“David Kay…”

“Yes, love?”

“Let’s get married.” 

 

The rest of 20-David were ecstatic to hear about David and Nikki’s courthouse wedding and were more than willing to clear their plans for the small ceremony at the magistrate’s office. 

“You look beautiful, babe.” Luca said, giving Nikki a hug.

“You all look phenomenal yourselves,” she replied, taking in each member in their best SWAT dress. 

“We’re so happy for you two,” Chris said, following Luca’s hug. 

“Thank you, Chris.”

“Let’s get married!” Hondo said, rounding up his team to begin the proceedings. “Deacon told me 8 months ago he was going to marry this girl,” he put his arm around Nikki, “and I don’t know how he’s waited any longer.” 

The team laughed and David took Nikki’s hand and led her inside of the building. Once everyone was seated in the small room used to little ceremonies, Nikki and Deacon joined the magistrate under the archway fixed up for couples. 

The time came for Deacon to say his vows. He intertwined his fingers in Nikki’s, never breaking eye contact with her. 

“Baby, it’s not secret to anyone in this room that you literally saved my life. You don’t have to tell me that I did all of the hard work. My desire to do any of the hard work came because you took the time to make sure I was okay in the middle of the most terrifying moment of my entire life. Now, it’s my turn to spend the rest of my life taking care of not only you, but also, taking care of our baby.” 

Nikki grinned when she heard the gasps of surprise coming from their friends. 

Deacon chuckled to himself, never breaking his gaze with Nikki, “You have become my very best friend, my girlfriend, for a very brief few moments - my fiance, you have become the mother of my baby, now it’s time to make you my wife. I promise to love and take care of you for the rest of my life, Nikki.”

Deacon slid Nikki’s rings onto her finger.

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The magistrate spoke.

“Sergeant David Kay, you may kiss your bride.” 

David took Nikki’s face in his hands and passionately kissed her lips. 

20-David immediately began clapping and whistling. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Mr. & Mrs. David Kay.” 

David’s team jumped up to hug the couple. 

“Talk about one hell of a pregnancy announcement!” Luca said. 

“Congratulations you two!” Hondo followed, “Deac, I see why you were so damn happy the other morning.” Luca laughed. 

“How are you feeling, babe?” Chris asked Nikki. 

“Much, much better after some IV fluids and medicine at my appointment.”

“How far along are you?” Hondo asked. 

“11 weeks and 4 days now,” David responded proudly. He pulled their ultrasound pictures out of his back pocket to show his team. Chris was the first to take them as Street and Luca looked over her shoulder. 

“Are you guys going on a honeymoon?” Tan asked. 

“Once I get around 30 weeks or so, we’re going to plan a trip away. A honey moon and baby moon.” Nikki said. 

“We’re so happy for you two.” Chris said. 

“Thank you so much,” Nikki replied, giving her a hug.

David and his new bride were both so grateful for each other and the support of his teammates.

[thelibrarylesstrektraveled]

My Hero

Summary: Doctor Sam WInchester had fallen hard for the woman living just down the hall. She was easily the most adorable and the most accident-prone creature he had ever met! Yet for all the times he came to her rescue, he was too shy to make a move. Maybe he could work up his courage, if he got just one more chance...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Sam x Reader, Doctor!Sam Winchester x You

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Garth, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, fluff

One Shot

Word Count: 3700

Author’s Notes: I swear, every time I get sick all I want is a Winchester to come and take care of me. Is that really so much to ask?? I think not! This is my very first Sam x Reader fic! I have a few more ideas rattling around for the youngest Winchester brother, but this is decent practice. For now. Enjoy!

Bang.  Bang.  Bang.

     “Coming, coming!”  Sam pulled t-shirt over his head as he trotted to the front door.  He’d been getting ready for bed when the insistent knocking started.

     The door swung open to a very nervous young man in a Wong’s delivery uniform.  Sam recognized him from the few times he ordered from them. 

     “Hey, its Garth, right?”

     “Yeah,” he shifted on his feet, his eyes round with worry, “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

     Sam’s instantly shifted into his professional mode.  He was currently an attending at Lawrence General Hospital, having just moved back a year ago from L.A.  It had been an adjustment, but a welcome one.  Big city life didn’t suit Sam at all. 

     “I am.  What’s going on?’

     “I was dropping off an order down the hall to the lady in 302 and I heard this thud behind the door and now I can’t get her to answer.  I think something’s wrong.”

     Sam was already grabbing his medical bag, “Show me.”

     302.  He knew the woman who lived there.  More or less.  They kept running into each other.  He first discovered her fighting with the soap dispenser in the laundry room.  Then again when she locked herself out of the building during a thunderstorm.  And then last week when the elevator got stuck between floors.  He always seemed to be wandering by when she needed a rescue.  She was funny, smart, accident prone, and completely adorable. 

     Sam had been working up the courage to ask her out, but something always seemed to crop up.  An extra shift at the hospital or a birthday party for a colleague.  He knew it was an excuse.  For all of his professional success, Sam was, and always had been, extremely shy.

     “Y/N?”  He knocked loudly on the closed door, then tried the handle and found it locked. 

     “Alright, stand back,” he said to Garth.  In one powerful move, Sam kicked the door in, the heel of his foot landing in just the right spot to splinter the doorjamb. 

     “Damn,” Garth blew out an impressed breath, “You aren’t even wearing shoes.”

     You were laying in the foyer.  Curled on your side with your hair spread out like a halo.  A wallet sat a few inches away from outstretched fingers. 

     Sam was at your side in an instant, gingerly turning you over and searching for a pulse, “Y/N?  Can you hear me?”

     Garth hovered nearby, nerves in his voice, “Is she okay?”

     Sam ran a hand over your forehead, “She’s burning up.  Go see if you can find a washcloth and a glass of water.”

     His worry only grew when he carried you to the couch and you still didn’t come to.  He held your limp body up with one hand while he worked your hoodie off with the other, leaving you in a tank top and yoga pants.  He’d strip that off you too, if he had to.  Every inch of bare skin he touched felt like it was on fire! 

     “Why isn’t she waking up?”  Garth asked handing Sam a kitchen towel.

     “Dehydration.  With a fever this high, it can happen quick.”  Sam dipped the towel in the water filled coffee mug and bathed your face and neck.  Sure enough, his efforts were rewarded.

     You groaned, even that soft sound reverberated through your pounding head.  Everything hurt and all you wanted was to slip back into the blankness of sleep.   But it was so noisy!  Someone kept talking, like the parents in a Snoopy cartoon.  Unintelligible, insistent, and so annoying!

     Sam gently tapped your cheeks, “Y/N.  Come on, darlin.  Open your eyes for me.”

     With a bit of coaxing, you did as he asked.  Everything around you swirled and slowly came into focus.  Your head felt heavy and fell to the side, Sam was there and smiled down at you.  As a reflex, you smiled back before your fevered brain could catch up and tell you who you were looking at.

     “Hey… it’s my hero.”

     Sam chuckled in relief, “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”

     “You’re here.  That’s so nice… why are you here?”

     “You passed out,” he replied, pressing the cool cloth to your brow.  “Do you remember what happened?”

     You tried to search your memory, but everything was so fuzzy!  “Um, I came home from work… I was sick.  Felt really bad.  Everything hurt.  Achy and cold.  Headache.  Then I ordered soup from the place down on Main Street.  I dunno…I feel a little out of it.”

     There was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around your bicep that was inflating.  Where did that come from?  Sam was doing that doctor thing where they listen to you talk while taking vitals at the same time.   

     How did doctors do that?  Did they teach that in med school?  It seemed especially confusing to you as your thoughts kept skipping away and going down rabbit holes.

     Cool fingers felt under your jaw, pressing against swollen lymph nodes.  He always had such a gentleness about him.  Such grace.  Surprising for a man of his size, but he seemed to take such care with you.  Like you were the most rare, delicate creature in the world.

     Last week when you found yourself stuck in the elevator, it was Sam who answered your call.  He muscled open the doors single handed and lifted you up though the opening without breaking a sweat.  You were more than a little awe struck by his display of strength and chivalry.  If you’d had half a brain, you’d have invited him for coffee as a thank you.  As it was, you were preoccupied with being late to work.  A sadly missed opportunity with your handsome neighbor.

     “You came home from work, was that last night?”

     “Um, yeah.  Yes.  As if Mondays aren’t sucky enough.”

     Sam’s eyebrows rose, “That was two days ago.”

     “What?”

     “Today’s Wednesday.”

     That information had you on the move.  You sat straight up and instantly went white.  The room titled and if it weren’t for Sam’s hands steadying your shoulders, you probably would have slid right off the couch.

     “Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Not so fast,” Sam advised, forcing you to recline.

     “I gotta go call work… or… somebody.”

     “The only place you are going is to the E.R.”

     “No, I can’t go to the hospital.”

     “Y/N, listen to me.  You’re dehydrated to the point that you fainted.  Your fever is 103, that’s dangerous territory.” 

     Sam tried to be stern, but he just didn’t have it in him.  You looked so pitiful with your hair sticking to the sweat slick skin and the dark smudges under your eyes.  You were desperately sick and he wasn’t going to simply leave you without treatment.

     “I know a lot of people are scared of the doctor, but I promise I’ll be right there with you.”

     You swallowed, wincing at the feeling of knives in your throat.  “I’m not scared, I’m uninsured.  My job is new, benefits don’t kick in for thirty days.”

     Garth piped up, “You’re a doctor, can’t you just prescribe something and treat her here?”

     “It’s not that simple.  She needs to be admitted so they can get an I.V. going and get some fluids into her system.  And bring that fever under control.”

     He felt your head loll against him.  He looked down in alarm and found you’d lost consciousness again. 

     “Y/N?  Wake up, Y/N!” 

     This time no amount of effort would bring you around. 

     “Damn it,” Sam growled as he got to his feet.  He grabbed a notepad from your entry table and scribbled a list down.  “Do you know that walk-in clinic on 42nd street?”

     Garth followed him, “Yeah, I pass it on my way to work.”

     “Great.  My brother is on call there tonight, go in and ask for Dean.  Tell him it’s for me, he’ll help you.”  Sam tore off the list and thrust it into Garth’s hand, “Get everything and hurry!”

     Garth shoved the paper in his pocket, “What if they don’t believe me?  That clinic isn’t in the best part of town, junkies hassle them all the time.”

     “Dean will believe you but in case he doesn’t say Poughkeepsie.  It’s our go word, means drop everything.”

     “A secret code word, you guys must be brothers,” Garth muttered on his way out the door.

     You woke feeling warm.  Bundled up in something soft and secure.  Your eyes stayed closed as you enjoyed the luxurious feeling.  Most mornings you woke up stiff with your muscles complaining about the ancient futon you had yet to replace.  It was left over from college and the wood slats dug into your hips, but moving to a new town was expensive!  Anything like a proper mattress would have to wait until you had a few more paychecks under your belt.

     You stretched a bit, content to roll over and fall back into your dreams, but something tugged on your hand and pinched.  You frowned and tried again; it was like you were caught in a fishing net. 

     “What the hell…?”  You grumbled unhappily, determined to keep your eyes closed out of stubbornness.  You blindly felt around and found a tube and tape attached to your right hand.

     Your eyes popped open.  An I.V.?

     You weren’t in your bed.  You weren’t in your room!  Where the hell were you? 

     The dimensions matched your bedroom, but it wasn’t bare bones like yours.  This one was painted a lovely smoke grey.  Bookshelves lined one wall and a mahogany dresser matched it on the other.  The bed was the biggest you’d ever seen.  The headboard was massive and intricately carved.  The mattress was firm but yielding. 

     The bedside table housed bottles of medication, a stethoscope, a digital thermometer, and a glass of water.  You remembered being sick.  Sicker than you’d ever felt.  You remembered your boss sending you home then… nothing.  Just a blur. 

     You sat up slowly.  When the room didn’t spin, you decided to press your luck.  You pulled back the covers enough to dangle your feet over the edge.  Your toes found plush carpet.  You felt weak, but not dizzy.  And you were cold without the blankets.  Looking down you found bare legs.  You were wearing only your tank top and Wonder Woman underwear. 

     Fuck.  Where the hell are my clothes?!

     With a quick yank, you pulled the I.V. out and headed for the door. 

     “Yeah, Dean I know.  If I promise to wash and wax your car, will you get off my case?”

     “No way in hell you are waxing my Baby, do I need to remind you about Liza Raffaella in the eighth grade?”

     “Please don’t,” Sam groaned into the phone. 

     “It’s wax on, wax off.  Not wax on, go chat up a nerd girl for three hours while the wax bakes on in the sun!”

     “Sam?”

     Sam spun at the raspy voice behind him.  You were standing in the hall, your hand braced against the wall for balance.  You looked a little wobbly, but far better than you had in hours.

     “I gotta go,” he told his brother before ending the call.  “Y/N, hey.  How you feeling?”

     “Confused.  How did I get here and where are my clothes?”

     “Oh!”  Sam’s cheeks colored instantly as he grabbed a soft, woven throw from the back of an over-sized chair.  He draped it over your shoulders and ushered you to the sofa.

     “Sorry about that, your fever was sky high.  Needed to bring it down in a hurry.  Here, sit.”

     You sank down onto a couch that was just as comfortable as the bed you’d woken up in.  Sam disappeared into the kitchen then returned with a glass of ginger ale and some crackers.  He was rattling off something about Chinese takeout and your pants being in the laundry.  All the while he was fussing over you.  His long fingers found the pulse point on your wrist, and he produced a pen light from somewhere to check your pupils.

     After a few minutes, he realized you were staring at him, “Y/N?”

     “Sam, grateful that I am for your hospitality and bedside manner… I still don’t understand why I’m here.” 

     “Well, I figured it would be a better place for you to recover… with all the construction.”

     Now you were really confused, “Construction?”

     Sam rubbed the back of his neck and embarrassment turned his ears pink, “Yeah.  I ah… I kinda broke down your door.”

     “What?!”

     “You weren’t answering!  I just had a really bad feeling, and I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

     His gaze traveled your face then locked on your eyes.  “I was worried about you.”

     You looked at him, really looked.  He was beautiful, as he always was, but there was an edge of exhaustion to his features.  His five o’clock shadow was darker than you’d ever seen it.  The fine lines around his eyes and lips were etched deeper and his hazel eyes were slightly red.  Even his enviable hair was disheveled. 

     “So, you committed destruction of property to save my life?”

     “I did.”  He gave a nod, his tone teasing, “You gonna turn me in?”

     A small smile played around your lips, “Nah.  I might need your services again.  I have a habit of getting into trouble.  Nice to know I’ve got my own personal hero on call.”

     “You call, I’ll come running.”

Two Years Later:

     “That was not our first date!”

     “We spent the entire weekend curled up in my bed, it counts.”

     “I was unconscious!”

     “Not the whole time,” Sam countered, threading his fingers through yours, “Sometimes you’d wake up.  Of course, you were delirious.  You did have some of the most creative fever dreams… what was that one about the Catholic church hiding the existence of extra-terrestrials by dressing them up like the clergy?”

     “They were hiding dinosaurs, not aliens.  Tiny dinosaurs under their creepy old lady robes.  And still, not a date.  I think you’ll find most dating experts would agree with me on this.”

    “Dating experts?”

     “Your brother.”

     Sam huffed out a laugh, “Don’t be fooled by the rumors, he’s not the Casanova everyone thinks he is.”

     “I dunno, guy gets a lot of dates.”

     “First dates.  Ask him about his batting average for second dates.”

     “Oh yeah?  Got him beat, do you?”

     “Hands down.”

     Sam curled a finger under your chin and brought his lips down to meet yours.  You hummed happily as an electric spark zinged all the way down to your toes.  It was crazy that even after two years he still managed to excite you with just a touch, or a look.  You never had to doubt his feelings for you, he wore them openly and proudly.  He never missed the opportunity to hold your hand in the grocery store or to wrap his arm around your shoulders at the movies.   A kiss to the temple, a hand at the small of your back.  Every touch was filled with the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day.  Every night was filled with the heat and passion of desire that could never be sated. 

     You leaned into Sam’s side as he guided the two of you down the winding path that cut through the willows.  “So, tell me Doctor Winchester, why haven’t I been to your family’s estate before?”

     “I wouldn’t call it an estate, it’s just a few acres.”

     “I don’t care if it’s a patch of dead grass… you have horses!  Horses, Sam!  I’ve wanted to go horseback riding since I was ten.”

     “We might be able to squeeze in a lesson for you before we head home.”

     “Really?!”

     “I’ll bet you’re a natural, you’re already an expert with a riding crop,” he whispered in your ear.

     “Sam!”  You admonished him, instantly turning red, “That was a one time!”

     “Best birthday ever.  And to answer your question; you haven’t been here before because I was waiting.”

     The path curved and opened up to a decent sized pond.  A dock jutted out onto the clear, still waters and ended in an elaborate gazebo.  Painted a picturesque white and topped with a copper finial, hundreds of tiny fairy lights hung from the rafters glittering with magic and romance. 

     “Oh wow,” you breathed, following Sam down the planks.  “This is like something out of a book.  God, it’s beautiful!”

     “My parents built this place from the ground up.  Mom had this vision in her head about a pond where she could come and watch ducks.  Teach her kids to swim and fish.  So, one summer, Dad started digging.  I don’t think he even had a plan, all the neighbors thought he was crazy!  But he was stubborn and determined.  And he loved my mom more than anything.”

     You walked out to the end of the platform and leaned out on the railing.  Dragonflies danced along the surface of the water as the sun began to set and the crickets started to sing.  “He did a great job.  Did he build the gazebo too?”

     “Anniversary present,” he confirmed, joining you by the railing.  “This was my favorite spot when I was a kid.  Dean loved the garage, hanging with Dad and tearing apart trucks with the radio blasting.  I couldn’t stand the noise, so I’d come out here.  Even in the winter.”

     Suddenly, a swan flew down and landed in the middle of the water.  Graceful and noble, it glided across the water sending the slightest of ripples out in its wake.  As it turned, you could see a single black feather against the white of its tail. 

     “Oh!  I’ve never seen a swan with one black feather.”

     “He’s always had it, never could figure out why.  He showed up when I was ten and just never left.  I call him Solomon.”

     “Is it just him?  I thought swans always paired up?”  

     “Well, that’s the thing, they do have mates for life, but he showed up alone.  And I know it sounds silly, but he was mopey.  He didn’t take a lot of interest in anything; he didn’t interact with the ducks or even pay any attention to me when I tried to feed him.  He was sad.  Some animals grieve and I think he was grieving for his lost mate.”

     “Poor guy,” you murmured, watching as Sam took a packet of birdseed from his pocket and tossed a bit out on the water. 

     “When I left for college, Solomon migrated and didn’t come back in the spring.  I thought I’d seen the last of him, but then I got a call from Mom this past summer.  He was back and he brought someone with him.”

     As if on cue, a second swan swooped down and landed beside Solomon.  Pure white and just as lovely.  They looked like a postcard, gliding on the sunlit water.

     “You’re kidding!  He found another mate?  I didn’t know swans would do that!”

     “Some do, special cases.  And Solomon’s no fool, he might have been content to be alone forever, but when that right one came along, he snapped her up.”

     “That’s amazing!”  You turned to Sam with a beaming grin, but stopped short when you realized he wasn’t standing there beside you.  He was kneeling. 

     “Sam.”

     He took both of your hands in his, tipping his face back to gaze up at you with such tenderness and devotion it made your breath catch.

     “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time.  I knew what I wanted to do and how I wanted it to look, but the words never came.  Everything I wrote seemed inadequate.  Even the word love falls short.  It’s not enough, it’s not big enough.  Being with you is a revelation, Y/N.  You call me your hero, but baby… it’s the other way around.  You rescued me.”

     Tears had already gathered in your eyes when he pulled out a blue velvet box.  A diamond solitaire sparkled inside like a star in the sky. 

     “I don’t know if I’ll ever have the words, but I swear to show you.  To treasure you, to make your happiness my mission.  To answer your call and to love you for all my days.”

     You dropped down to your knees and tackled him.  Your arms flung around his neck, nearly knocking him over in your enthusiasm.   He caught you with a laugh and kept the two of you from tumbling off into the water.  You kissed every square inch of the face you’d loved since he first rescued you.  And you laughed.  Joy bubbled up from your heart like effervescent Champagne.

     “You astonishing,” Kiss. “Brilliant,” kiss. “Romantic,” kiss, kiss. “Beautiful,” kiss, kiss, kiss.

     “Y/N… baby…”

     “Yes?” Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

     His hands wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back slightly so he could look into your eyes.  He traced the curve of your face, fondly tucking your hair behind your ear.  You were always moving, always racing towards everything in life.  It was something he loved about you, your exuberance.  Your passion!  You burned so bright, his light even on the darkest days. 

     “Will you marry me?”

     Your brow creased in confusion before you realized, he didn’t actually say the words a moment ago.  You been so excited that he never got the chance. 

     “Yes,” you nodded, your forehead coming to rest against his. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

     Sam slipped the ring onto your finger, “Will you look at that?  Perfect fit.”

     “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”  You shifted so that you were sitting in his lap, your hand cupped his jaw, “I should tell you up front that I tend to get into trouble, there’s a good chance that you’ll be required to rescue me from time to time.”

     “Good thing rescuing you is my second favorite activity.”

     “Second favorite?”

     “Yeah,” he murmured against the curve of your neck, “Let me show you the front runner.”

     Before long, Sam had swept you away in a haze with his deft fingers and clever tongue.  The title of Hero that you bestowed on him became a running joke through the years and then a loving nickname.  But that didn’t make it any less true.  He’d always been a hero, and now he was yours. TAGLIST @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetryy @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witchly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007

[greer-morgan]

Heartbeats | Self-Para

Mid-August. (About three weeks after the breakout, and one week after Mahlon woke up.)

The knock at the door came softly. There was a sense of stillness, of calm order that existed within this room that no longer existed in the rest of the city—the rest of the hospital, even.

Greer stirred, the rustling of her medical gown and the paper liner of the table were the only sounds until her own voice cut through, “Come in.”

“Greer? Hi, I’m Dr. Mire.”

Dr. Mire was a woman at least thirty years Greer's senior, with deep lines etched into the corners of her eyes and around a kind smile. Freckles of various hues dotted her skin, some a deep shade of brown and others just barely different from the base tone of her face. Her hair was long and silver, forming a sleek braid down the center of her back. There was nothing flashy about the woman. She was put together, but unlike any other Capitolite Greer had ever seen, it was for comfort and practicality. Even the scrubs under her white coat were a pale purple. She reminded Greer of someone who’d at least once belonged to a district, and Greer trusted her more for that. There was no way this doctor was born in the Capitol, Greer thought, but didn’t ask.

This first appointment would be the longest of all of them, Greer was warned. There wouldn’t be a single inch of her unexamined by the end of it, and she wondered if it was all worth it if she wasn’t sure she was even keeping this baby yet. But then, she wasn’t sure that she wasn’t either, so here she sat.

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Mire asked as she rubbed hand sanitizer into her palms.

“Like I’m dyin’,” Greer deadpanned. “I’m gettin’ sick all day long, and if I’m not pukin’ it’s ‘cause I’m asleep… in the middle’a the day, ‘cause I haven’t made it through the day without a nap in weeks. S’like havin’ the worst flu of my life, but if the flu also made all my bras too small,” Greer lamented.

“Sounds like the first trimester to me. Soon, your pants won’t button either.” Dr. Mire laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s all normal. You’re in the worst of it now, but you should start feeling better in the next few weeks. Are you doing okay keeping liquids down? We don't want you dehydrated.”

“Yeah, liquids’re okay.”

“Good. Will baby’s dad be joining us today?” Dr. Mire asked.

Greer’s laugh was short and sharp, though she knew the doctor wasn’t in on the joke. “Not this time,” she answered.

“Okay, let’s go ahead and get started then. First thing we’re going to tackle is one large mountain of paperwork.”

Dr. Mire moved with practiced efficiency. She pulled a rolling stool to sit in front of a computer. Together they went over Greer’s medical history. She brought up everything she knew about her parents and her siblings. She told the doctor about her Games and the years after—a strange sense of self-consciousness crept over her, a sudden want to clean up the bits that somehow sounded messier here. And then, Dr. Mire asked about Mahlon.

“I… don’t really know,” Greer admitted sheepishly. “I mean, I know him,” she tacked on quickly. “I know who the father is.”

“I wouldn’t have judged you if you didn’t,” Dr. Mire assured her gently.

Greer nodded, her tongue darting over her lips to wet them before she continued. “Jus’ don’t know that much ‘bout his family history. He’s an only child. Mom’s dead. Dad up an’ disappeared. So, if he’s got issues with his blood pressure or his eyes, I ain’t got any idea,” she explained. Not that district healthcare would have caught any of that anyway.

They went on like this for a while. Dr. Mire asked a few follow-up questions that Greer did her best to answer, before she moved on. “You’re from Ten, is that right?”

“Mhmm,” Greer nodded.

“Do you spend a lot of time around livestock? Have pets?”

“Y-yeah, got chickens, horses, cats, all kinda stuff back home. Why? Is that a problem?”

“Well, yes and no. There are just a few things we’re going to add to the ‘off-limits for a little while list’.”

Greer listened as the doctor explained everything Greer couldn’t do. Smoking and drinking had been obvious, but apparently there were a whole host of foods and medications that were out. No more horseback riding. Have someone else clean the litter boxes and the chicken coop. Be cautious about hot baths. Limit caffeine. Greer suddenly felt better about all the naps she’d been taking, because it wasn’t like she could have or do anything else, apparently.

Finally, Dr. Mire stopped typing and stood, crossing the room to where Greer was seated. Her hands moved along Greer’s body—blood pressure and temperature taken, heart and lungs checked, lymph nodes pushed. “You plannin’ on leavin’ any in there?” Greer asked, somewhere around the fourth vial of blood that was drawn from her arm. Every bit of her was poked and prodded to the doctor’s satisfaction, until she was finally instructed to lay back.

“Now that we’re done having a look at you, let’s take a look at that baby, shall we?” Dr. Mire beamed. It was the most enthusiastic expression she’d offered the entire appointment, like she was finally offering Greer her reward for having endured the past hour. Greer swallowed, her throat achingly dry, as her gaze settled on the ceiling above her. This was supposed to be the good part, but Greer had to clasp her hands to keep them from shaking. She was unbearably aware that she was dreading the part anyone else would have spent all day looking forward to.

The room darkened and a screen flickered on, casting a dim glow over the doctor’s face. Greer was relieved that the screen was angled away from her. Maybe she wouldn’t have to look like a monster for fixing her gaze on a stained ceiling tile instead of prying for a glimpse at the screen. She laid there in stone silence while the doctor worked, hitting buttons and adjusting views. It seemed to go on forever before Dr. Mire spoke again.

“Would you like to see your baby, Greer?” Dr. Mire asked, tilting the screen toward her.

Greer’s heart leapt into her throat. She wanted to say no, to avoid what she wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with, but it was curiosity that won over. Greer just couldn’t help herself. Her eyes fell away from the ceiling and landed on the ultrasound—all indecipherable black and white blobs to her. Greer offered a sputtered laugh. “How the hell do you even know what you’re lookin’ at?” she asked, lifting her head to crane her neck.

“A lot of training and a lot of practice, but I promise you that’s exactly what it’s supposed to look like. Baby is exactly where they’re supposed to be and measuring right on for ten weeks. Which makes this little one due about mid-March.”  March. It seemed both incredibly far away and so impossibly close. “Great, I’ll be laborin’ with the cows,” Greer blurted, the humor a bit more biting than she intended, but Dr. Mire laughed anyway. Apparently, she couldn’t do anything without it being steeped in District Ten.

“There’s baby’s head,” Dr. Mire continued, pointing to the screen where Greer was meant to look. “And you won't feel it for a few months yet, but if you look here, these little nubs are baby’s limbs already wiggling all over.”

“Looks like Cosmo,” Greer muttered to herself with a hollow laugh, laying her head back down again. That damn teddy bear Mahlon had won for her at the ball with its big round head and stout, little limbs. 

“And this is the best part,” Dr. Mire moved to reach for a small dial. The silence in the room was quickly replaced by a steady whooshing sound, strong and fast. “That… is your baby’s heartbeat.”

The sound knocked the air from Greer’s lungs. “Magical, isn’t it?” Dr. Mire asked, handing Greer a tissue. It wasn’t until the tissue had been extended to her that Greer even realized she was crying. Hot tears were rolling from the corners of her eyes and pooling against the shells of her ears before dropping off onto the paper liner beneath her.

“What does it say ‘bout me if it’s fuckin’ terrifyin’?” She choked out the question.

Dr. Mire’s lips turned up softly. “Oh, sweetie,” she started, the words all warmth and no condescension as she muted the sound again. “The only thing it says is that you’re a human being. It is perfectly normal to be scared and overwhelmed.”

“I don’t know if I… what if I ain’t… what if I ain’t meant to be somebody’s mom?” Greer managed between sobs. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’. What if I can’t do this?”

Dr. Mire took Greer’s hand in her own, squeezing it lightly. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and I think I can count on one hand the amount of people who haven’t said almost that exact same thing. You want to hear a secret, Greer? Really, no one knows anything about parenting before they’re in it. It just seems that way, because you haven’t seen them here saying exactly what you’re saying to me right now,” Dr. Mire assured her. “You have options, and you have time, and I can’t tell you what the right choice is for you. But I also know there isn’t any one right way to be a good parent. I think you just have to be willing to surrender to the fear of loving someone more than you love yourself.”

Greer thought of her own parents. Two people who’d had children for vanity’s sake, and who’d never been willing to try loving anyone more than they loved themselves. Greer had never been enough for her parents, and now with painful irony, she worried she wasn’t enough for her child. But was love the obstacle for her? She’d been so sure once that it would be, but she knew now that it wasn’t. Being afraid of something wasn’t the same thing as not wanting it.

“C-can I hear the heartbeat again?” Greer asked. “Just for another minute?”

“Of course you can.”

[sidehugsnsideblogs]

FCSU #95 Moving On

“Becca-Dawn,” drawled Vangie one morning over breakfast “I was thinking. Why don’t we go shopping today? And maybe a haircut?” Taken aback Becca stammered out a response. This was a big step for Evangeline. The two headed into town, jogging along the path. Becca-Dawn didn’t own a car and, as a trainer, never missed an opportunity to exercise. 

In the store Vangie struggled to put together outfits. It seemed like all the shirts were croptops, why don’t townies want to cover their stomachs? She decided that she wanted to keep pretty modest, but she was excited to try pants! Becca tried to help but a lot of her choices were too masculine for Evangeline’s tastes. In the end they had to call Penny and have her give advice over facetime.  Penny was dead on with her outfit choices. 

The next stop was the hair stylist. Vangie had cut bangs into her hair once as a child after teasing from Nina and Dina, but she’d never had a proper haircut. Her thick, dark brown hair hung far down her back when it wasn’t piled on her head and smothered in hairspray. Either way, it felt heavy on her neck and skull, causing headaches. The stylist was kind, going slow and checking with her client as he trimmed the length. Finally Vangie ended up with a cute style that ended just below her shoulders. She starting experimenting with different braids and learned to craft voluminous ponytails. 

Vangie loved all the outfits she bought! She modeled all her different looks for Becca-Dawn later that day. Each ensemble made Vangie feel beautiful and confident, and they were a mix of her favourite colours! It had been so long since there was some colour in her life.

Across town Farrah was grappling with similar thoughts. She had accepted she’d have to integrate with townie life but wanted to maintain the modesty of her faith, both old and new. She’d read all the books Jonah had given her and was now trying to make her way through the King James version of the Bible. She’d also been talking to Jonah almost every night. It sounded like he missed her. They decided to enter a long-distance courtship arrangement. This was good for Farrah, who still had to wrap her head around the concept of choosing a partner for herself.

They’d agreed that Farrah would stay with her sister until her kids were safely in her custody and emotionally stable. Then they would all move to Henford and hopefully the courtship would continue in person. AJ was surprised her sister was moving on so fast but offered support. Farrah was an adult after all, and AJ’s job was to love her family even if didn’t understand some of her sister’s choices-in love or fashion.

Likewise, Farrah didn’t understand the fashion in AJ’s family. Anna had finally aged up and was very much a teenager. She wore short, tight skirts, makeup and shirts that were down-right sluttish! She couldn’t understand why her mother would let her out of the house like that. That being said, sometimes the outfits worn by AJ raised her eyebrows too. AJ, for her part, didn’t much care what her children wore as long as they were doing well in school and kind to each other. She was grateful Farrah hadn’t been staying with them when Autumn lived there, she would have scheduled an exorcism.

Farrah was reading at the apartment when she got a phone call from a police officer, a sickly, malnourished and filthy girl had been left at a hospital in Windenburg who matched the description of one of her daughters. AJ offered to go with, but Farrah wanted to go alone to see her. She thought it'd be easier that way. She borrowed AJ's car to make the journey to Windenburg.

She was led to a small room in the hospital basement where Faith was lying on a bed. Tears welled in Farrah's eyes to see her daughter hooked up to a monitor and an iv. She looked so fragile. "Is she going to be okay?" She asked the nurse. "She's going to be fine. She's just getting some antibiotics for her infection and fluids because she's dehydrated. I'll leave you two alone for a while. Ring the buzzer if you need me." Answered the nurse before bustling down the hall.

Faith awoke about half an hour later. "Mama," She asked, rubbing her eyes, "Is it really you?" "Yes!" Wept Farrah, hugging her daughter. "You're safe now." As she regained her strength, she updated her mother and the detective on the others. "LeRoyce has been driving us all around in a filthy truck for months now. No one will agree to marry him, so he's trying to starve us into submission. I got a cut on my leg, and it got infected from all the filth. He thought I was going to die, so he dumped me here." She told them. Once her statement was taken and she recovered enough to travel, Farrah drove Faith back to Brindleton Bay.

Thankfully Alex had graduated and moved out meaning there was enough room for Faith to stay in the house as well. She set herself up in his old room while Alex pursued his biology degree from Foxbury Institute along with his cousins Ryder and Thomas. The three were planning to live in the dorms together but ended up rushing a rather loud and obnoxious fraternity and moving into the house, much to Teresa and AJ’s chagrin. 

[seokiloquy]

Pearlescent Pt 3 - Iwaizumi Hajime

Au: Merpeople

Requested (kind of)

Tags/Warnings: GN!reader, Swearing, minor character death (age).

Word Count: 1.9k+

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5

“We have to go visit your grandmother this weekend.”

“We?” You asked your mom over the kitchen table. “I sort of had things planned, but I suppose I could do them another time.”

Iwaizumi probably wouldn’t mind. A day away wouldn’t hurt.

“Just Saturday. You can have Sunday to do whatever. We’ll just need extra hands.”

“Ah.” Boxes pilled up in the living room. Your mom had begun packing over the course of your time visiting her, and they were adding up. “So it’s almost time, then?”

“Afraid so.”

You took a slow breath in and looked down at your half-finished breakfast. Quickly, you swallowed another bite. “It’s to be expected. People age, grow old, forget, then waste away before they die.”

“Your grandmother isn’t wasting away. She’s just… tired.”

“Mom. It’s okay. I don’t know her all that well anyways.”

“I know. Maybe you would have known her better if your father hadn’t just disappeared and I was less bullheaded. But it’s okay to be sad about it. I know I am.” She finished her last bite of food, dropping her plates by the sink before chugging down a glass of water.

“It’s not that I’m trying not to be sad. It’s more that I’ve gone through the grieving process already. I already knew.”

Your mom sighed, picking up your plate and stacking it on top of hers while you lifted up your last piece and plopped it into your mouth. She sniffled, looking over her shoulder. “She’s the last bit of your father that is around. While we’re there, how about you keep her company? Ask questions. It’ll keep her distracted while I move things out.”

“She’s not dead yet.” You chuckled.

“I know, but… there won’t be much time for us to stick around here when she goes.” Her phone rang. “Time to go to school. I got to take this call.”

Before you ran out the door, you refilled your glass and chugged back every last drop with a satisfied sigh.

Hanni was wrapped over your shoulder when you got to class, panting from running down the hall to get inside before the bell. Like normal, everyone was chattering.

You huffed. “Do you have water?”

“Yep.” Hanni reached into the open pocket of her bag to pull out a large sports bottle, placing it on your desk.

Trying to catch your breath, you dipped your head back and began to swallow it, some dripping onto your cheeks and running down your neck. When you got up for breath, it was over half empty.

“Did you run a marathon?” she chuckled.

“Just down the hallway,” you whined. “I think I’m just dehydrated.”

“Maybe I should toss you into the ocean.”

Gulping back a dry swallow, your eyes blew open while a frown pulled on the corners of your mouth. Your heart thundered in your chest. “Huh? W–where would you get that idea!”

“I’m joking, I’m joking. You can’t swim, and the ocean is salt water. You’d just get more dehydrated.”

“Right… right. Please don’t throw me in the ocean.”

“I won’t. Now, if you finish my water. You’ve got to refill it. I need it for practice later.”

“What are you doing today?”

“Stamina training. We’re running around town.”

“Hmm.” 

Hanni was a childhood friend you’ve known since your dad was around. A neighbour to your grandmother, but closer to the high school than your grandmother's house was. When you’d come to visit, she’d be there ready to spend whatever time you had together. Though, when your father disappeared, there seemed to be less reason to visit. 

The teacher started attendance.

Hanni was also very active. Very suitable for the town filled with hiking trails, big grass fields, gyms, and beaches that never have too many people on a regular day.

With Hanni busy and you unable to go to the beach on Saturday, maybe going to the water today was the best option. Sucking in a breath of air, you steeled yourself in your decision, raising a hand as your name was called for attendance.

You filled Hanni’s water bottle up for the fourth time at the end of the school day, handing it off to her while she got her gear on before you could empty it for a fifth time. You waved goodbye, and once she was out of sight, you sprinted in the opposite direction toward the beach.

When you got to the shore, you felt like a wilting plant. It was tempting to jump into the ocean and soak your uniform, but you managed to fight off the idea. Rushing into the public bathroom, you changed into your school swimsuit. You stuffed the clothes into your bag and walked out of the stall and onto the sand, shivering slightly from the breeze. Being just after school and work hours still going, there wasn’t anyone around. You took your time tiptoeing through the warm sand. You could hide your things in the little alcove and tuck your bag between rocks so it would get lost, not that anyone here would steal it.

With the beach empty, you dared approach the water by the main beach, and not the spot you usually went to beet Iwaizumi. A small dock stretched into the water, far enough that if people didn't have the energy to swim back, they could climb onto it. You took it as your walkway.

At the end, the water was at least two metres deep. You gulped, waiting for any sign of Iwaizumi to appear. It seemed that by touching the water, he would be alerted of your presence because after getting tired of standing, you sat down, dipping your toes into the ocean, his head appeared, grinning at you above the gentle waves.

Smiling at him, you lifted your feet from the tingling water and got to your feet, readying yourself to jump.

“(Y/N), STOP!”

You were already in the air, turning your head to see Hanni sprinting down the dock. Her expression, the most horrified one you’ve ever seen on her, was a blur, before disappearing behind the surface of the cold ocean water.

Iwaizumi was at your side instantly, pulling you back as another burst of bubbles appeared in your place. “She jumped.” Iwaizumi cursed. “And you’ve transformed.”

The bubbles cleared, and Hanni floated, hair billowing out from her ponytail, squinting through the salt water. Eyes wide, she screamed, and it cut through the water like a harpoon.

Iwaizumi dragged you and Hanni toward the rocks. No one is diving, and he lifts Hanni onto the ledge so she can catch her breath. You follow, lifting yourself onto the rock like Iwaizumi does, and he copies.

“Oh Fuck!” Hanni gasps for air. “You’re fucking fish.”

You chuckled. “I said the same thing.”

“Merpeople,” Iwaizumi corrected, brows pinching, “Oikawa is going to give me hell for this.”

“There’s more fish?!”

“Merpeople!”

“(Y/N), what the hell?!”

You shrugged, wincing at the volume of her voice. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

“(L/N) is descended from mer. I had a hunch when we met.”

“Is that why you gave me the pearl?”

Iwaizumi gulped. “Not really. Anyways—”

“How the fuck does that work? Did someone fuck a fish?”

“A dolphin, and we hope not.”

“Oh my god, this is horrifying.” Hanni looked off to the horizon with a grimace. “Is that why you can’t swim?”

“I—” You stopped, blinking. “I don’t know. I was never taught in the first place.”

“Transformations only happen in ocean water. Fresh water and pools won’t do it.” Iwaizumi supplied.

“Then I really don’t know. Wait, do you transform?”

“Everyone does.”

“What?”

Hanni continued to look aghast, eyes flicking between you and Iwaizumi. “The stories are real. Why didn’t mom tell me?”

“Stories?” you asked, tail flicking behind you.

“Because there’s a population of mers by the town, there are a few folk tales,” Iwaizumi supplied.

“Ya, of sirens dragging unsuspecting people into the water to never be seen again.”

“Huh…” you blinked.

“We don’t drag them.”

“So you admit it!”

“They come voluntarily! They usually don’t stay either. Only a few do.”

You tilted your head. “So, do you go to school?”

“Of course. I go to—”

Hanni glared. “It doesn’t matter where you’re from. I’m beating your team into a pulp.”

“Note taken.”

Oikawa popped his head out of the water. “Ooh, more people! Do I get to sing away the memory this time?”

“You’re tone deaf. I doubt it would work.”

As the two began to argue, your mind began to wander.

There was a call from over the rocks. The club supervisor of Hanni’s team was climbing up.

“I’ll uh...keep the secret.” Hanni rushed to her feet. “(Y/N)’s my best friend. I’d do anything, but I’ve got to go or else more people will know.”

Still soaking wet. Hanni climbed quickly over the rocks, not even pausing for a second. You watched her go, ignoring the boys bickering behind you.

On Saturday you sat by your grandmother's bed while your mother rushed around and spoke with the staff. The frail woman just hummed a breathy tune with her eyes closed and a smile on her face.

Nursing homes felt like the buildings were ageing with the people inside them. Yellowing walls, quiet halls, and the occasional light footsteps you’d hear in the hallways. The only room where there was more noise was the activity room. With tables, chairs, and TVs it was where most of the elderly liked to be so they could interact with each other or get entertained by a family that was there to visit.

Your grandmother preferred to sit in her wheelchair and look out the window toward the water. She was there, back to you and your scurrying mother, while you sipped eagerly on another bottle of water.

“I’m going to talk to the front desk. I’ll be back in a bit. Keep her occupied.” Your mother shut the door behind her.

Gulping back another sip, you changed your seat to be situated by the window next to your grandmother. The sunlight was making her white hair look golden. She kept her eyes on the water. She stopped humming.

“It’s magnetic isn’t it? The sea. I guess that's why they always go back.”

“What do you mean?”

“Pardon?”

“What did you mean by that?”

“By what?”

You gulped another sip. “The sea being magnetic.”

“Well, you should know.”

“I have no idea if you’re trying to be cryptic or just like this.”

“You have to have a little fun when you get old.”

“Pleasant. Thank you for the enlightening conversation.”

She chuckled a little, coughing, before reaching for the back of her neck. “You never know who's watching in these walls. But there’s always something to share. So you must get it out anyway.”

“I mean, I guess?”

“Take this.” From her neck, she pulled a necklace, dropping it clumped into your hand.

Your brow pinched, studying the accessory that was attached. “A pearl?”

“Your mother has one too. From when she met my son down by the water.” Her wrinkled grin was sharp, cunning. “Take good care of them.”

Wrapping the jewellery around your neck, you set yours and your grandmother’s pearl next to each other on your chest.

You spent the night studying the pair, watching them shimmer under the yellow light of your grandmother's old living room lamp. There was a sinking feeling in your chest as you watched them.

She was gone by morning. 

Don’t you love death as a plot device? -Bacon

Posted: 15/01/2023

[coolcattime]

heyyy coolcat! I’ve had this story concept sitting on a back burner and I’m honestly not sure if I’ll ever get around to writing it but who knows maybe. I wanted to share it with you, cause I think you’ll like it, also it's my second time sending it cause my internet is being weird

A mishap with the priest nether portal sends Mot to the nether, but Spark in an attempt to go after him now has to deal with some unforeseen consequences. (It actually sends Mot to Ruxmor but they don’t know that yet)

He’s not sure where he’s standing, if he’s standing at all. Equal parts dark and light. Too much yet not enough. Through the terrifyingly loud silence, there is crying. It’s so close to him and he— likes to think it’s in his nature to help out, that’s what Dagrun was built for, what it represents to him— reaches out to whoever or whatever is near him. It reaches back and

He wakes up on the other end of the portal. Swelling heat and humidity overwhelm him instantly. Netherrack and soulsand now stuck under his fingernails, which both ground him and leave him with a gross feeling.

Not long after this is when the remaining alts find out their lady ianite died. Spark having a physical reaction as it happens and Alyssa and Jeriah being told after the fact. Spark begins to act strangely, the other two chalk it up to it being grief. The longer it goes on the more they realize something is wrong with him.

Alyssa wakes up thirsty. It’s difficult for her to find the will to move from the warmth of her blanket— so nice and cozy, it’s heavy against her, she…can almost…fall…back asleep. How unfortunate that the need to drink water is much much stronger. And oh no! What if she dehydrates right then and there, who will listen to her dad’s tale of getting lost in the new nether.

Reluctant as she may be, she steps out of bed and makes her way downstairs. Bundled up in two layers of long sleeves and fuzzy pajamas pants, she takes a quiet and slow pace down the steps.

She is standing just outside of the kitchen, it’s dark and she has a hard time seeing but she recognizes Sparks figure, which is hunched over the sink, probably doing the dishes. Jeriah had told her to do them, which wasn’t even fair since it was his turn anyways. He only pushed the chore on her because he was getting old and lazy. She told him so too, he hadn’t exactly been the happiest to hear that. Denied it all the way to bedtime.

Yet here is her grandpa doing the chore in their stead. She hadn’t seen him in days, both her and Jeriah had given him space, maybe a bit selfish of her but she’s glad to see him here even if it is the dead of night. Good to know he didn’t perish in his room, it’s certainly a positive.

She walks past him and grabs a glass, pouring herself some water from a pitcher on the counter. It’s only then that Alyssa sees that there are no dishes in the sink—by the looks of it, they have been washed, dried and put away. There is only water. Spark is hunched over in the sink, elbow deep in the water. She’s pretty sure you aren’t supposed to wake a person who’s sleepwalking but she can’t tell if he’s awake or not in the first place. She knows better than most what depression can do to a person. She’s seen her dad at his worst for years now, and she’s met that pirate from Atheoria. Not someone she’ll willingly interact with again, honestly.

She knows that this is about Spark’s wife. The woman who was is now just a faint memory to Alyssa. The only Ianite she knows is the one here. She doesn’t dare tell Spark that, especially not now.

The longer it goes on the more they realize something is wrong with him...

It had started with small moments. Spark couldn’t remember how he got to the basement, or he could not recall why he opened the front door, and embarrassingly enough he had once found himself halfway over the dock railing. Now he finds himself near the huge treehouse, Jeriah standing over him axe in hand. He had pushed him into the snow trying to wrangle the axe out of Sparks hands.

The cold heat makes him sweat. The beginning symptoms of a fever, one that’s been on the verge of starting for months now. The snow both cools and burns him. It does everything to help his sense and overwhelms them all the same. There is a contradiction that lies beneath his skin and he has no cure for this new ailment of his.

“I don’t know what your lady would’ve wanted, but I doubt getting smited by another version of her is one of those things.” Jeriah stares down at him, Spark is much too out of it to decipher if it’s anger or sadness. “Why?” He sounds tired, Spark decides. Gods, how late was it?

If Spark were to be truthful he’d say he didn’t care. He felt such steep indifference for the events that were put on pause by Jeriah, he’ll be thankful for it later, but now he truly cannot find it within himself to do something as simple as care. He leaves it at an “I don’t know, Jerry, I don’t—” He’ll later fear that feeling, it’s so unlike him…

A bit more of that happens until it’s Spark himself that gets fed up with it. He reaches out again, this time with a homemade ouija board.

The pencil barely moves, she had answered yes. It had been surprisingly easy to guess whose ghost was haunting him when his only two choices were between a dead chaos god and a dead pirate captain, and he finds himself near water more often than not. Looking at his amateur setup— it’s four ripped pieces of paper each with a different response: yes, no, I don’t know, ask elsewhere. Spark had thought that giving her more answers would make conversing easier. It does not. Regardless of how childish it is they talk as best as they can, they make do.

He had asked if it was difficult to move objects and she had responded with a yes, which was strange to him seeing as she had no difficulty moving him from point a to b. Perhaps there was something he was missing. His setup reminds him of a compass, the way he had placed the responses as points and the pencil as a needle. He looks through his things and finds one. Other than some dust on the glass, it’s in perfect condition.

“Think this’ll be easier?” He moves his arm out to where he guesses she’s standing…? He doesn’t know if ghosts do that. He feels her hand over his and the needle moves much to quickly. All at once her thoughts become his. His thoughts become hers.

There is an overwhelming absence of everything and all she can do is cry.

What was meant to be a temporary house, has now imprisoned him.

Neither was able to see their mission through and now they both exist together in separate spaces, miserable.

Eventually, it will lead to Capsize getting revived, but she doesn’t remember her time in the void space or as a ghost, for the better. But it’s hard for Spark to be angry at her for the distress caused when it was some messed up version of her and not the her that’s been revived. While I do think their relationship starts out strained, I do think that they both grow to have at least a semi-positive opinion on each other. Like Spark doesn’t like Capsize’s methodology of immediately going to tnt and violence when something doesn’t go her way, but she does it with confidence and he can respect that. And Capsize thinks fishing with Spark is enjoyable.

(I named the draft “la posición de mi posesión” and i think it’s fun to say. Also this is the second time I send you such a long ask omfg, thank you for reading it <3)

My apologies, the first time you asked this it did come through. I spent my free time yesterday factory resetting my phone and then playing d&d so I kinda didn't have time to respond.

I really really like this story idea!!! I think the idea of Spark getting possessed/ haunted by Capsize is really awesome.

I really like how the situation starts because Spark reaches out to help because it really feels interesting for him to just reach out to this mysterious presence in the darkness. I think its a really telling thing for a character to do.

I love the idea of Spark having a physical reaction to his Ianite dying even when in a completely different world. And it conesiding with the haunting beginning is such a good touch cause it can be written off at first as grief when it's a bit more of a pressing issue.

The actually haunting is really cool (like all of this is really well written but I particularly like Capsize accidently sending her and Spark to the void when trying to move the compass). And I kind of love how empathic Spark is despite being possessed multiple times. I think the way you've written Spark is really fun since I don't see a lot of him in the fandom.

As always, I love anything where Capsize is revived. I kind of love the description of the relationship between Spark and Capsize you've written since it seems very natural for the two.

Also feel free to write all the long asks you want, I really like reading them ^-^

[izzysdiary003]

h’s last night.

npg (or npc as she said) fun but friends vibes, greggs and walking around - nice we can walk for hours and not run out of things to say. i don’t even remember what we spoke about on way back via archway.

i love the neighbourhood. oh to live there eventually. small world that she’s so close to where we lived.

stopped by her mums house for her to get me her suetonius (gift from olivia to her originally 💀), i met jordan peterson the huge cat. nice house.

the apartment was cute, small, dad vibes. i liked the balcony. her dad was interesting to meet (unofficially)- hulkingly tall new zealander who came home drunk and offered to make us breakfast

someone gifted him biltong at his work xmas party. i like the way he talks to h.

she made her bbq sauce quesadilla thing, i had toast. headache due to dehydration but lay on sofa spooning/always lying on one another.

watched bridget jones 2 (classic) and then 2 eps of crown- princess margaret’s death made me CRY. was wondering if we would get intimate but decided to let her make the moves. i liked that i was comfortable to let the night take its course.

uquizzes and pinterest stalking in bed. blue moon cup which she got me full of water. snapping lucy and giggling. cuddling. just as we started to get bored i did a quiz where i said i liked her nose. it’s asymmetric, she said. i got close to look and we started to kiss.

fuck she is hot. it’s not often that i can get turned on just lying next to someone imagining what we could do to each other. i’m so glad she likes grinding making out like i do. the skin against skin, needy movements.

when i’d come and we were gna do more, just as i was taking her shirt off, dad arrived home earlier than expected

lots of for fucks sakes etc. funny but irritating.

cuddling and more chatting. time wasting.

then we got again eventually. i really enjoyed it; sex w her isn’t stressful. her fingers on my clit didnt feel amazing, a bit jabby, but fuck were they good inside me. lips on neck, lips on her tits.

my favourite memory is her hands sliding into my pants and her giving a little gasp. she told me how wet i was. i’m not surprised. i fingered her too, rough and intense. we were so tangled up in each other that sometimes i couldn’t get the right angle but it was so good it didn’t matter. at one point we were fingering one another at the same time.

we had to try not to be loud, and sometimes she had to cover my mouth even. she choked me while i touched her. i love to look in her eyes while we’re making out, while we’re fucking each other. the occasional glance at her face while we adjust our stupid hair.

we stopped eventually bc it was loud and her dad was around. she said later that she wished her dad hadn’t shown up tho- nice to know she wanted more.

naked cuddling as per. she has the most gorgeous body i’ve ever seen and i love to hold her. i love her holding me.

funny mix of coupley and casual. this girl made sure if we saw each other again it wasn’t romantic (applause for good communication) but imagine lying in bed w her as the big spoon and feeling her randomly reach in to plant little kisses on my back, my shoulders, top of my head.

she said that she would have made out w me when she came to visit at somerville. me too, i realised. and at rag ball she said- tho i wouldn’t have then, i was genuinely angry, unless she initiated.

we spent some time going over old ground, talking abt how things went between us etc.

but it was all easy, playful even. i said, and i think it’s true, that im so much more relaxed about her now.

as we finally got to bed, 330isj after much delay, she kept breaking sleepy silence with little comments or giggles to herself which i asked about. i didn’t want her to stop talking. a couple of typical hannah things - like oh you want to do this every so often to get rid of your touch starved-ness etc. a little annoying but i don’t even mind really. i felt very content, and tho the not romantic clarification stung a tiny bit i just really enjoyed the moment of lying together.

nights sleep was broken but nice, as it is when you’re topless and cuddling. woke up exhausted w time to kill so spent an hour in bed watching reels, then had toast and took off.

kissed before leaving, but what struck me was the massive tight hug i got. i hope not too aggressively friendzoney? i got the ‘see you at uni’ line. but truly the evening was amazing. if we can do sth like that every once in a while i’d be happy. friends w bens would suit me, even if i walked away feeling more for her than i’m supposed to.

cute texting this pm- come back, i miss you in my bed, my personal heater etc. it makes me feel nice. i’m sad it’s over. Even if, as emmy said, i cant give her all my trust.