#somehow from here we got to... one of my fic ideas is going to include mpreg and it's going to be SO close to canon I swear I'm going to

[hermitsdump]

ok but what was the inciting incident 🤨

[kmgkmg]

BOYS FROM MARS - CHOI SEUNGCHEOL

word count: 2.9k…

pairing: seungcheol x gn!reader

synopsis: you've sworn off men for the month of february, but you also might've fallen for the local cafe's baker two weeks into the month.

genre/s: fluff, non-idol!au, baker!seungcheol, ceramicist!seungcheol, strangers-to-lovers

warnings: does include mentions of wonwoo and dino together, but nothing happens.

rating: pg

a/n: dedicated to my favorite scoups stan @jasminecha <3 also a submission for k-vanity's love in the mix event! the full playlist can be listened to here. songs that inspired this fic the most include:

saturn by sza // universe by thủy // lucky by raveena // sunny days by wave to earth // never tell by luke chiang

“I swear,” you sigh to your friends, “life’s got to be better on Saturn.”

Between the messy situationships you got trapped in and the endless amount of male celebrities that got involved in scandals, you realized one thing. Well, you knew it a long time ago, it’s just been re-emphasized as of late. Men aren’t shit! 

Valentine’s Day weekend came and went, with you successfully continuing your man-detox.

Your form of treating yourself on the Sunday after was grabbing boba with your friends. Jasmine tea with herbal jelly always healed you, and after the crappy week you had you were ready to recharge. Some sweet treats to go along with the drinks were an obvious choice as well, including the cafe’s famous egg tarts.

“Boys are from Mars, blah blah. You say all that but haven’t you been looking towards the kitchen since we sat down…” your friend Yeri observed, causing you to snap your head in her direction. 

“Okay, but he is uncharacteristically hot for our town, right?” You frown, looking back at the man who hadn’t yet noticed your burning gaze.

A cafe recently opened downtown and you wanted to check it out ever since their TikToks worked their way into your algorithm. Who could turn down cronuts (croissant donuts) with fillings sounding as yummy as ube pandan, black sesame oreo, and dark chocolate rose? You ordered roughly fifteen minutes ago, but knew you were going to have to wait due to the amount of people in the store. What you didn’t expect was for the baker to be so attractive. Sure, the baristas and other staff are also very attractive, but something about the baker and his arms being so muscular made you lose focus. Not only that, he somehow managed to be so attuned to his work that he was oblivious to the amount of people drawn to him. He has to be from out of town, you think to yourself.

You finally shifted your gaze from the poor man just doing his job as he kneaded more dough, turning back to your friends. Your childhood friend, Wonwoo, was still stuck on the barista who greeted y’all. Yeri scuffed at the two of you, unable to believe her friends’ lack of self control.

“Some detoxes aren’t meant to be completed.” Wonwoo shrugs, getting up from his seat after hearing his name called by the barista who took your names earlier, Chan. He seemed similar to your ages, definitely the youngest of the people working at the cafe. He was definitely the type Wonwoo went for. Wonwoo flashed a bright smile, shifting his weight to lean closer to Chan. As he handed his phone to him, your friend and you rolled your eyes at his predictability. And then there were two…

The three of you had sworn off men for the entire month, a feat that would usually be completely achievable. Yet, after finishing your boba you were wavering ever so slightly. The mystery man continues his work, now sporting some flour on his face. Certainly that was an accident, but it only made him look hotter than before. After another five minutes Wonwoo’s and Yeri’s cronuts came out and you stared at your plate where only crumbs remained. Ordering another dessert to share isn’t the worst idea, you nod to yourself, eyes glued to the giant fruit tart in the display case. You ask your friends if they’d be down to share and they agree instantly. Almost too eager. You push your chair from the table, heading towards the counter to order. You turn back to Wonwoo and Yeri, wanting to confirm the order but see them giving you thumbs up and winking. Your face twists into confusion, before turning back as the hot baker walks to the cash register to take your order. You need to get out of this cafe.

Avoiding the cafe proved to be much harder than anticipated. The night you first visited you brought home some egg tarts, happy to share with your loved ones. Little did you expect that your entire household would fall in love with the tarts as well. You became the assigned tart buyer, stopping by the cafe to grab a four-pack nearly every day. A four-pack only cost $6, something that was unheard of in this economy. Besides the inexpensive tarts, frequenting the cafe so much did have its perks. One, for example, was that you were fast in filling up the punch card and now were two visits from a free drink. Another, coincidentally, was interacting more with the cafe’s baker, whose name you learned is Seungcheol. 

“Did you see we’re supposed to get more snow next weekend?” He attempts to make small talk, grabbing the tarts for you and packing them away. 

You hum a ‘mhm’ before reaching into your bag for your wallet. You were attempting to distance yourself from him, to let a crush die out as a crush, but he made it more difficult each time with his efforts in small talk. Why did his voice have to be so nice to hear?

“You’re good, Y/N, it’s on the house.” The familiar angelic voice interrupts your thoughts.  

You felt your face heat up as you heard him say your name. You shake your hands fervently, “No, it’s okay I can pay.” 

“I know you can, but at this point I think you’re the number one customer for these tarts. Are they that good?”

Your brows furrow at his question, “Are you kidding me? They’re so delicious, I mean the custard filling itself is not too sweet but still has a hint of vanilla in it and I taste the smallest amount of… almond?”

“Yes! That’s my secret, it’s like a few drops to each batter, but I didn’t know others could taste the difference as well.”

“It definitely makes a difference! Not to mention the crust is absolute perfection, it’s sturdy enough to last multiple bites but still soft to bite down on…” You trail off, becoming self-conscious of your food ramblings. 

Seungcheol doesn’t notice your inner turmoil, but his eyes light up at your words. “You’re so much better than Chan or Mingyu when it comes to expressing your thoughts on the food! I will spend hours working on a new recipe for them to take one bite and say, ‘it’s tasty, Cheol’. It drives me insane!” 

You nod, surprised by his extroverted personality. Unable to match the energy on this Wednesday morning, you do your best and manage to give him a faint smile before grabbing the bag that sat on the counter. 

“Well, thank you for the free tarts, Cheol.” You hold up the bag, before leaving the shop. 

“Anytime!” 

As the bells at the top corner of the door rang out, Seungcheol watched your figure walk away from the cafe. He let out the breath he had been holding, placing his hand on the countertop. With his free hand, he grabs his half full cup of coffee, taking sips to cool down. Anytime? Wait did you just say Cheol?

“He’s single, you know?” Chan raised his eyebrows your way, as he whispered Seungcheol’s dating status for the table to hear. Chan’s shift ended thirty minutes ago and he and Wonwoo were already extremely cozy and used to each other’s presence. Wonwoo would not stop blowing up the group chat to give every update to their relationship as the days went on from the fateful first day y’all visited the cafe. 

“It’s still February, you know?” You retort, eyes still glued to the baker. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Yeri dismisses you. 

She knew it was only a matter of time for the two of you to get together. Chan made a separate group chat excluding you to devise a plan to get the two of you together. He revealed Seungcheol would check the door each time a customer came in, then look dejected each time it wasn’t you. Not to mention, he usually only worked one or two days of the week, but his hours increased in hopes of seeing you again. Long story short: neither of you were making the first move and it was driving everyone insane. 

A familiar melody played through the cafe’s speaker’s, causing your ears to perk up. wave to earth? Your favorite band, the band whose concert is ingrained in your bones, wave to earth? Taking a picture of your uneaten egg tart, you vowed to upload a story with wave to earth as the background music when you got home. You continued the conversation with your friends, reducing the glances Seungcheol’s way to a minimum of once every five minutes. 

Around two hours passed, most customers cleared out leaving just your table and Seungcheol in the cafe. Your friends convinced you to talk to him once again. Before you could say anything, Seungcheol began the conversation. 

“Sorry. I, uh, noticed how excited you were when wave to earth’s music came on. The playlist that was playing all night was mine and I loved seeing your reactions to the music. I’m careful in asking this, but would you want to grab a meal sometime? You know, outside of this cafe and all.”

Your eyes softened as your body slowly let go of the tension you were unaware that you had. 

“I really enjoy running into you, Seungcheol. But, I am doing this ‘man detox’ where I’m trying not to be with anyone in February. I fall for people too easily and hopefully things will change.” You confess, grabbing your straw’s wrapper and throwing it in the waste bin on his left.

You wished he would go over this moment quickly, not wanting to fight his temptation and your true feelings for much longer. Sipping on your drink, you try your best to act nonchalant despite the butterflies in your stomach. 

“I don’t think you can fall for people too easily, it just means you love people sincerely. And that’s not anything that needs to be fixed.” He counters, jogging back behind the counter at the sound of the oven’s timer. 

You see Wonwoo, Chan, and Yeri walk out of the cafe, content with you finally having a long conversation with Seungcheol. Before you could reply, he continued speaking. 

“The bit about swearing men off for a whole month I understand. Lucky for me tomorrow’s the first day of March though.” He slyly informs, not breaking eye contact as he puts the hot pastries on the cooling rack.

You scrambled to find your phone buried in the bottom of your bag. Once you finally fished it out, you checked and double-checked the date…February 28th. Why are the days going by quicker and quicker?

“I didn’t mean to make you so flustered when I thought about asking you out, we can pretend this never happen-”

“No!” You surprise the two of you from your increased volume. 

Seungcheol chuckles before grabbing the ingredients to make frosting for tomorrow’s desserts. “Good, then how does next weekend work? I have a workshop to attend so I won’t be at the cafe for this next week. If you think it over and decide you don’t want to go, no worries. We can go back to a regular customer and baker relationship. If you do want to go out with me, here’s my number.” He explains, wiping his hands on his apron before grabbing a pen and writing his number on a blank punch card. 

“O-Okay, let me think about it,” you muster out. Tucking the card with Cheol’s number written on it in your pocket, you left the cafe. Confused was an understatement. 

You returned home and placed the tarts on the kitchen table before heading to your room. As you got ready for bed, you grabbed the punch card from your coat pocket. As if your hands had a mind of their own, his number was added to your contacts before you had time to think. Throwing yourself on your bed as you looked at his contact, you couldn’t help but feel giddy for next weekend. Tomorrow was the start of March after all. 

“So, you don’t just work at the cafe then.” You look around in amazement at the ceramic studio you were standing in, unable to imagine him as anything else than a baker. Now his muscular arms were making more sense.

“No, not at all. I only help out there since Mingyu is on vacation visiting his family. Oh, Mingyu is the shop owner by the way. But, if you look under any of the plates at the cafe, they have my initials on them.”

“Wait, so why are you such a good baker?”

“Lots of part-time jobs to support my family. You pick up a few things here and there.” He explains, grabbing a collection of ceramics for you to choose from.

Seungcheol treated you to lunch and the conversation flowed like the two of you knew each other for years. The date was going well, suspiciously well. But you tried to withhold your default thinking, wanting to believe in whatever connection the two of you had. 

“Would you like to try to make anything? A flower vase? A plate? A mug? It will take a while to get back to you since I share my kiln with another studio member, but I can expedite it.” He informs you, showing the different models of ceramics you could make. 

You look at your options, unable to decide as they all looked cute. 

After thinking for a while, you break the silence, “I do love flowers…” You decidedly point at the vase. 

“Flower vase it is.” He nods, sitting down and throwing clay onto the wheel before shifting and letting you take over. 

You could’ve sworn there was some reluctance in his movements. But once you looked back up at him, he moved his hands over yours to help you mold the vase into the shape you wanted. 

The two of you spent over an hour in the studio. Seungcheol was a good teacher, not getting frustrated at your mistakes, even though you knew he could sense your embarrassment. He’s kind. Realizing the sun was setting, he did the finishing touches on the vase, before running into a back room, telling you he had something to give you. 

As he left you alone for the moment, you looked outside to notice small white flakes falling from the sky. After admiring the view for a moment, his footsteps enter the room again, now he appeared with both of his hands behind his back. 

“Choose a hand.” 

You gesture to his left, to which he reveals a white rose. Seungcheol holds it out to you and you promptly wrap your fingers around the stem. 

You tilt your head trying to see what else he was hiding, “What about the other hand?”

He holds out another white rose, before looking outside and also noticing the snow. “Shoot,” he murmured under his breath before grabbing his messenger bag from the worktable. 

“It should be okay, the snow doesn’t look too heavy just yet,” You comfort him. Your eyes stay fixated on the flowers you’re holding, gently bringing them up to your face to smell them.

His voice calls for your attention, “Y/N.” 

As you look up to him, you feel shy once again as he puts the scarf around your neck. Instantly, you feel warm. Although, you are unsure if it was due to the scarf or the actions of the man in front of you. 

“It’s getting late, may I walk you home?” He asks, already putting his coat on and preparing for the cold. 

You look at him with surprise, not used to men with actual manners. You put your coat on as well, walking through the studio’s doors as he held it open. 

“That’s really sweet of you. If you do that though, I will never hear the end of it. Suddenly you’ll become my boyfriend and we’ll need to start planning our wedding out-”

“Our wedding, huh?” He smirks, holding his arm out for you to lean on as the sidewalk the two of you walked on became covered in ice. 

“I did not mean to say that part out loud.” You purse your lips together, mentally hitting yourself for unnecessarily rambling. 

“Let me at least walk you to the traffic lights then.”

“Deal.” 

The lights came far too quick, and you found yourself disappointed by the lack of distance between your house and the intersection. There were barely any cars outside. Everyone must be at home preparing for the weather, you thought to yourself. Soon enough, the two of you reached your agreed destination. Yet, you found it hard to let go of his arm. 

“Are you sure I can’t walk you home?” He softly offers again. 

“It’s truly okay! My house is not even a ten minute walk from here.”

He squints his eyes, slightly skeptical. “Then text me when you get home safe, okay?”

“Okay, I can do that! Thank you for everything today Cheol, I had an amazing time.” 

“Me too, Y/N.” 

The crosswalk light turns white, indicating you could walk. You wave goodbye, crossing before realizing you were still wearing his scarf. He was still watching you from the other side as the light began to flicker. 

“What should I do with your scarf?” You cup your hands around your mouth to project your voice. 

He grins big before mirroring you, “Just give it to me on our next date!”

[nightshade962]

Next here we go still on a dpxdc and tim/Danny kick at the moment.

This one is pretty simple tim and Danny have been together for at least a year when the bats have no clue. They live together and they know of each other's identitys. You can go in many ways for this. I'm just going to say a few that have come to mind.

Tim had a falling out with the rest of the Gotham vigilantes. He doesn't see himself as part of the family. But he's not as upset as he once was because he has Danny, his friends, Danny's friends, and Danny's family. The fentons welcomed him with open arms. Maybe after Bruce comes back from the time stream, he starts to try to be more connected to his kids. He starts to spend more time with them to get to know them better, like he takes some time off or cut down on hours. He makes up with Jason it's still rock, but it's getting better. There was a lot of yelling and bruce tell jason that he regrets how he handled the joker. He apologized to dick for putting so much pressure on him, and he is everything Bruce couldn't be. He got to learn that Damian loves animals and art they go to museums and zoos. Him and Cass bond.(I'll be honest. I can't think of a way they bond at the moment. I don't know Cass that well. He just plainly gets to know Duke. But he can never get Tim alone he never stays long after Patrol. So Bruce tries to be open and asks his other kids to help him talk to Tim. They can't give him answers. It makes them pause and think when was the last time Tim stayed at the manor or just came around for a meal. Even Jason is around now more times than not. They realized that they had no clue about tim, they don't know him like they once did if they ever did. All feel horrible about it, Tim brought back their dad, and they didn't even try to get to know him better. So dick goes to Tim's apartment to see him. He's waiting in the lobby as the front desk person calls up to buzz him in. When Danny walks in with groceries and waves to the front desk to go up. When he is stopped, he asks if Tim is home. Danny hums said he's not sure, and he'll check. Dick thinks that maybe he lives on the floor below Tim as time lives in the pent house. After five minutes Tim calls down to the front desk and says they can send up dick. Dick beams at them as he gos to the elevator. He makes it up to Tim's place. Tim greats him saying that he was in the shower. Dick waves him off. Tim guides him to the kitchen where he see the guy from the lobby putting things away. He turns to Tim to ask but is cut off when Tim give the guy a quick kiss saying thanks after he hands Tim what looks like a little snack tray. Dick follows Tim out of the kitchen to the living room. Tim see the look and says he's my boyfriend he lives here. Questions are fired off fast, where dick learned the guys name is Danny, they have been dating for almost 2 years and living together for 10 months, and last but not least Tim does not see him self as part of the family. He takes what he learns back to the bats. Everyone feels horrible for this. They all try to include Tim more.

This scenario Tim takes Danny to a gala as his dateable. That's how he introduced his over a year boyfriend to his family. Just kinda a crack fic with a bit of angst. Like maybe Bruce wglhile he is happy for tim and wants to have a family dinner with Danny over to properly meet him he is emotionally constipated and worried for the secret identities.

Next scenario is simple. Dick, Jason and Damian run into tim while he and Danny are out for their weekly dat or as often as they can. That's how they find out their brother has a long term relationship. Danny is just laughing in the background.

Feel free add on these are just a few thoights of the same idea that tim and Danny have been together for a while, but the bats somehow don't know. I know there are fics out there with something like these. I love them.

[motorsportbarbie13]

Me? A Princess? SHUT. UP.

In which you become a princess for the night.

Warnings: Just a fluffy Halloween fic Pairing: Charles LeClerc X Girlfriend!Reader Word Count: 1k

Masterlist

If there was one thing you should have warned Charles about before you started dating, it would have been how much you were obsessed with Halloween. Ever since you were a little girl, you had been head over heels for the holiday, spending hours upon hours thinking about and then creating the perfect costume that year. You would never be caught dead in a mass market pre-made costume either. 

You got your love for the holiday from your mother, who had dressed you in homemade costumes every year since your first Halloween at six months old. It became a tradition from then on, first your mother always hand sewing your costumes until you were in your teens, when you finally took over the responsibility. Halloween had been the sole reason you had begged your grandmother to teach you how to sew: so you could take over the job of creating fabulous and intricate costumes when you were old enough. 

When you started dating Charles, you probably should have warned him that part of dating you during the month of October would include being roped into a couples costume. The first year you were together, Charles had gone as Lighting McQueen and you as Sally. The second year, you had convinced Charles to dress as Linguini from ‘Ratatouille’ while you had been Remy. But this year? This year you were absolutely tickled at the costume you had convinced Charles to do with you and couldn’t wait to debut it at the driver’s annual Halloween party ahead of the race in Brazil. 

“This may just be the best costume I’ve ever come up with.” You gush, looking at your reflection in the mirror as Charles came up behind you, rolling his eyes. 

“I look ridiculous.” He says, tugging at the shaggy wig you had somehow convinced him to wear. 

“You do not, now where is your keyboard?” 

Charles points to the bed in your hotel room where the blow up keyboard sits, ready to be slung around his neck. “What’s my name again?” 

You huff, adjusting the tiara that sits on the top of your head. “You’re Michael. How many times have we watched that movie since we started dating?” 

“I lost count after the 36th time.” Charles deadpans. 

Charles may be giving you a hard time, but just below his prickly exterior he’s secretly thrilled at this costume you’ve come up with. It’s easy for him: a pair of khakis, blue button up, tie and sport coat, backwards turned hat and pair of sunglasses. The only thing he could possibly complain about was the messy mop of a wig you insisted he wear but only because it was slightly itchy. The blowup keyboard that had M&M’s glued to the keys were a nice touch, he had to admit. 

“You’re such a liar, you love that movie and both sequels!” You swat at his arm, knowing that whatever couples costume idea you came up with, he would have gone along with no questions asked. 

Now it’s your boyfriend’s turn to roll his eyes. “You could have at least given me a real keyboard. I can play the piano, after all.” 

“If you’re going to complain all night, I’m leaving you here and have Franco be my bodyguard instead. I’m certain he’ll play along and that costume would be easy to put together.” You smirk, knowing how Charles feels about how…friendly the young Argentinian has been with all of the WAGs. 

Charles grabs you around the waist, hauling you to him. “Don’t you dare, mon amor.” He murmurs, lips a breath away from yours. 

“Then stop complaining and let’s go. Rebecca just sent me a text, her and Carlos are already downstairs.” You give Charles a kiss on the cheek, leaving behind a bright red kiss print, one that he doesn’t even bother wiping off. 

You grab the pair of wired headphones and tiny black sunglasses that complete your look and hustle out the door. George and Carmen had rented out the hotel’s entire restaurant tonight to throw their famous Halloween party, and had invited the entire grid along with most everyone from every garage on pit row. You knew it was going to get rowdy and you couldn’t wait. It was coming up on the end of a brutal triple header and these kinds of parties were always fun, but considering this was Halloween? You knew it was going to be one of your favorites of the entire year. 

Charles follows dutifully behind, blow up keyboard secured around his neck, as the two of you walk into the restaurant that night. There are a lot of people already there but it doesn’t take you long to find Kika and Pierre, who are dressed as Boo and Sully from Monster’s Inc. 

“Oh my God! Your Royal Highness!” Kika squeals when she sees you in your costume, sweeping into a low curtsey before throwing her arms around you. “You look so cute.” 

You laugh, hugging your friend back, pleased that she was able to recognize your costume without missing a beat. Behind you, Charles chuckles and pulls a few M&Ms out of his pocket, offering a few to Pierre who was dressed in a fuzzy blue and purple onesie. 

“The things we do for our women.” Pierre grouses, although just like Charles, Pierre would have dressed up as anything Kika had asked him to and the both of them knew it. 

The rest of the night is spent dancing, drinking, and taking a plethora of photos for social media. Everyone you encounter fawns over your costume and laughs when they realize who Charles is to your Princess. At the end of the night, you and Charles even take home the coveted ‘Best Costume’ award that has become somewhat of an infamous thing on the grid over the last few years. 

When the pair of you finally tumble into bed hours later, your feet throb from the stilettos but you have to admit, this was one of the best Halloween’s you’ve ever had. As you curl yourself into Charles, both of you almost instantly dropping off to sleep ahead of tomorrow’s busy media day, you can’t help but be thankful that you’ve somehow managed to become your own real life version of Princess Amelia Mignonette Grimaldi Thermopolis Renaldo. 

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16

[eggcats]

Radioapple fic, where after it's revealed that Pentious was redeemed, Heaven sends some angels (including some of Lucifer's own family) down to check out this Hazbin Hotel. (common fic theme)

And Lucifer is STRESSED. He hasn't seen any of his family in millennia, and they absolutely did not part on good terms. Especially because now he has to make as good of an impression as he can because he will NOT be the cause of Charlie's dreams failing.

Anyway, one of Lucifer’s estranged family arrives and they have absolutely NOTHING good to say about the hotel, it's people, or even hell itself. Insulting the decor, how it looks, being like "You got kicked out for free will and THIS is what they do with it? Ugh." and the like.

Lucifer is trying to keep himself together for Charlie's sake. (He's only had 3 breakdowns today, he's doing good!)

However, the last thing he expects is Alastor coming to his defense. Alastor looks at this shitty relative of Lucifer’s and is immediately like, "How DARE you? Antagonizing this angel is MY JOB, and I don't send him into hysterics, I send him into MUSICAL NUMBERS. Get out of my hotel immediately." But, obviously, he can't SAY that (for many reasons, the least of which is that Charlie needs them here for her redemption project).

So instead, he just picks at everything they say. "Hmmmmm, yes, but we at least chose to do this with this, free will you're insulting. What's your excuse for that eyesore youre wearing, hmmm?"

Alastor goes as far as to defend Lucifer’s choices in decor in the hotel, and Lucifer is completely confused because he and Alastor literally fought the day before about that SAME decor??

(The second the angel leaves Alastor turns to him and goes "They're right, you know, that is the ugliest interior design I've ever seen," and then DISAPPEARS before Lucifer can even respond. What the hell?!)

Alastor is not ignorant of toxic family dynamics, and while part of his initial issues with Lucifer stemmed from his belief in him being a deadbeat father, actually knowing him kind of changes his thoughts on this. It's a little telling that Charlie has been (apparently) attempting to contact her mother during her 7 year disappearance and has heard nothing, but the father who (she believed) thinks she's a failure shows up within an hour of her calling him ONCE. And then he does whatever he can to help her dreams, and the second she implies she wants him around more, he MOVES IN. It's kind of hard to continue thinking that LUCIFER is the toxic parent in the family dynamic, after all this.

(He still fights him, though, because it's fun to tell the most powerful being in hell his choice of interior design is ugly. If Alastor kind of doesn't go for the throat in all of Lucifer’s insecurities anymore, no one needs to acknowledge that.)

So, during the entire Heaven tour, Alastor is strongly in the "form a united front" boat. He can and WILL come out of the shadows for a sarcastic quip that simultaneously shuts them down AND makes Lucifer feel better.

(Alastor will NOT acknowledge the anger that goes through him at the idea of someone other than him picking at Lucifer, especially when they are CLEARLY trying to send him into a breakdown. How dare they. *cough* Anyway.)

So the whole ordeal winds up not as stressful as Lucifer was dreading, because somehow he has an antagonistic cannibal deer defending him the entire time. And Lucifer has no idea HOW that happened, but it does kind of make him feel better. (And Alastor's form of mocking him does, too, somehow.)

When they're alone, however, Alastor still picks at him so they can fight. (And Lucifer didn't notice until now how much FUN he has fighting with Alastor, and that Alastor insulting him makes him want to do better and prove him wrong, unlike his visiting family that makes him want to lock himself away for a decade.)

The tour ends, and Alastor and Lucifer go back to how they were before. (Sort of. Lucifer might be re-evaluating every interaction they've ever had and might send himself into a mild crisis.)

[alwaysthebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: When Sam calls to tell you that Dean is gone, you can’t accept it. Not until you visit the offline Bunker and see for yourself. …But is he really gone?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I had this idea for a scene in my head that took place during 15x20 with the reader and Sam & then from there it just kind of wrote itself, including the semi-twist. There is a song mentioned in here (“Is This Love” by Whitesnake) which is a sort of homage/dedication/thank you. I read this Dean x Reader fic a long time ago (I can’t remember the name of the fic or the author right now, I’m sorry!) but they used the song for some Dean/Reader time in the Impala and I had never heard the song before so I checked it out. I have become obsessed with it. It’s so perfect, not only for Dean but in general as an 80s love rock ballad. So thank you to that author whoever you are! This is meant to take place between mid-15x20 and Dean’s foray in The Winchesters (pre-series). Unbeta’d so all mistakes are mine. Warnings: angst; mentions of character death; mentions of implied sex Word Count: 12k+ First posted on here: 1/1/24 dividers by @firefly-graphics

You sat on the corner of the bed in your motel room, numb, your phone next to you, having been forgotten long ago. 

It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. You refused to believe it. How was Dean just gone? On a simple hunt? How?

Sam had called you to give you the news. You could hear the breaks in his voice as he relayed what happened, sounding as if he had been crying just a few minutes before. Vampires. Who were mute. A gang of them run by a vampire named Jenny they had faced off with years ago. On a hunt with John. She had gotten away and they thought she was gone for good. Apparently not.

You were frozen, in shock, unable to process what he was telling you. 

“Y/N?”

“I… I need to see him,” you whispered.

Sam was quiet for a moment before he forced out, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral.”

You shut your eyes in pain. “What?” You could feel your throat tightening as well as your chest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I had to. I couldn’t…” You heard him take a breath. “I couldn’t make the long drive with… I just couldn’t.” You could hear those breaks again and you should have been hurting for him, that not only did he have to watch his brother die but he’d had to burn him alone. But right then you got angry and you couldn’t help snapping at him.

“Why would you burn his body, Sam? You know we need his body to bring him back!”

“Y/N, he didn’t want to be brought back.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yeah, I do. He told me right before he died. As long as I was going to be okay,” Another break. “He was done.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and regret immediately consumed you. You knew Sam was telling you the truth. Dean making sure Sam would be okay as he was dying clinched it for you. Sam had always been his main concern. You started mentally berating yourself then. If only you hadn’t let fear stop you, you could have given him something to live for, to fight for. He would have let Sam call for help, call Jack, something. He would have made sure he somehow made it home, just like he always did. But you didn’t and now, he was gone. Truly and irrevocably gone.

Another tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I have to go, Sam.”

“Y/N, I—”

You ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. You weren’t trying to be heartless. Sam was obviously struggling and you should be there for him. That’s what Dean would want, you knew that. The two of you being there for each other, helping one another, you looking after his little brother while he looked out for you. But you just…couldn’t.

Why hadn’t you called Dean? After everything that went down with Chuck and Jack? Why hadn’t you reached out? You owed him that at the very least. So why hadn’t you?

You knew the answer to that. You were scared and like a coward, you’d told yourself it wouldn’t have made a difference. It wouldn’t have changed anything. But a part of you knew it would and that scared you just as much.

You thought back to the last time you’d seen him, right after he and Sam went to try to get Amara on board against Chuck. He was still reeling with the news that Cas had told him before he’d left, that Jack was going to sacrifice himself to kill Chuck. He cared about Jack, more than he let on, even though the kid had accidentally killed Mary. Jack was family to him and he was having a serious moment of doubt. If Jack’s plan would work; if he should let it happen; if he should tell Sam; if Chuck hadn’t been right, he would win in the end. He was so beyond tired of that: Chuck winning. He didn’t want to sacrifice Jack but if they could be free of Chuck and have a chance… 

He was torn up about it and he’d called you, asked you where you were, then begged you to come to the Bunker when he found out you were only an hour or so away. You hadn’t wanted to, you could hear the desperation in his voice and you knew all too well what would happen if you went. You were still hurting and you didn’t know if you could survive that. 

You didn’t bother telling him that the reason you were an hour outside of town was because you’d temporarily settled there, not sure where to go or what to do. Sure, you took on hunts here and there, but ultimately you were lost. Ever since Dean broke things off with you because he couldn’t tell what was real anymore versus what had been Chuck all along. The breakup had hurt, of course, but that caused pain in you that you weren’t really sure you would ever come back from. Him thinking everything between you might not be real? After you’d given him everything you could because you deeply loved him? In your heart, you knew it was real, but when you had said this to him, he’d simply responded with “I don’t” in his typical detached way he adopted whenever he had made up his mind that he had to do something for the greater good, no matter how hard it might be. You thought he had already broken your heart, but it shattered right then in your chest.

Since it was Dean, though, and he never begged, you went. And sure enough, what you worried would happen, happened. One minute, you’d been wiping the rare tears he let fall around you, and the next minute, he was kissing you and gently pushing you back onto his bed. You could feel the desperation in his movements, his touches, the way his lips trailed over your skin. Shockingly, he took his time with you, and it only hit you halfway through that this was his real goodbye. It wasn’t guaranteed that Billie’s plan would work but he hoped it would. And if it did, then that meant he and Sam would finally be free and they could hang it up if they wanted to, do something else with their lives and move on. And that possible future didn’t include you. 

You’d silently cried then, holding onto Dean as he moved and moaned into your ear. When he pulled back to kiss you, your cheeks were free of any tear tracks and you kissed him back. You wondered how on earth he couldn’t feel that this was very real between you as you moved your hips to meet his in a tender rhythm as he held you in his lap, his green eyes staring into yours as he held you close. Sex was sex but this right here, this right in between you right then that he refused to put a name to, it was beyond real. You knew he could feel it just as much as you could…so why was he still hellbent on throwing it (and you) away?

A little while later, you had laid there, with his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, his body still entangled with yours, staring up at the ceiling as you both were still trying to catch your breath. Your heart spoke for you before you could stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, meaning it with every fiber of your being.

It shocked the hell out of you and made something warm and fluttery happen inside your chest when he sleepily murmured to your skin, “Love y’too. Don’go.” You ended up chalking it up to him being in a post-sex sleep daze though, not knowing what he was really saying or even really having heard you correctly. That or he only meant for the night because the very next morning, things went back to how they were.

Dean seemed surprised when he woke up to find you next to him, scrolling through the news feed on your phone for any new cases. You’d given him a warm smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased.

Instead of smiling back, though, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hey.” You could see that familiar detached expression settle on his features and you knew he was regretting the night before. He had been drinking by the time you got there, sure, but he hadn’t been inebriated. He was incredibly lucid by the time he made a move on you so try as he might, this couldn’t be chalked up to a drunken mistake.

You could literally feel that wall going back up and you gave one last ditch effort to keep him from shutting you back out, even laying a hand over his. “Dean, don’t—”

He pulled away from you and got out of bed, quickly slipping on his Scooby Doo boxers and jeans that he grabbed from the floor. You might have smiled seeing the familiar underwear that you hated but secretly loved if you weren’t hurting so much. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” He asked, slipping a black t-shirt over his head. “I’ll go see if Sam’s cooking anything up. I need a serious cup of coffee. You just…” He glanced back at you, seeing you holding the sheet tightly to your chest as you watched him, compulsively swallowing when he saw your eyes glistening. “You, uh, just come out when you’re ready.” He then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and never looking back. 

You sat back against the headboard, dissolving into a fit of tears and quiet sobs. You knew you should have never come. Once you were able to breathe without fresh tears welling up, you got yourself cleaned up and redressed. You splashed some water on your face and you took a deep breath before leaving the room. You were near the bunker stairs when Sam called out to you.

“Hey! Y/N!” 

He was coming over to you, a big smile on his face. He was pleased to see you.

“Hey,” you greeted back just as warmly, forcing a smile.

He gave you a quick hug and you could see Jack a little ways behind him, giving you a smile and wave. “I didn’t know you were here. We were just about to have breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”       

“Oh, I…”

You were saved from having to make an excuse when Dean appeared next to Jack, his expression severe and cold all at the same time. “She’s got a hunt she’s heading out for. Possible vamp nest in Duluth. Right, Y/N?”

Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you even more, there he went proving you wrong. “Right,” you agreed quietly. You turned a wan smile onto Sam. “I’ll take a raincheck.”

“Duluth?” Sam glanced from his brother to you. “Maybe we can give you a hand on this one.”

“We can’t,” Dean stated firmly. He gave his brother a look and Sam’s brows furrowed before realization played upon his features and his jaw tightened. He turned apologetic hazel eyes onto you. “Donna’s up that way. If she needs a hand, she can call her,” Dean added.

You felt sick to your stomach. Obviously, you weren’t heading to Duluth or anywhere near Minnesota but the way he dismissed you so casually…the pain was overwhelming. The smile you kept on Sam turned into more of a grimace. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m good. Like your brother said, I can call Donna if I need anything. Don’t worry. Thanks, though.” You squeezed his arm and then turned to make your way up the stairs.

“Best of luck,” Dean gruffed out. You turned to see pure ice staring back at you. 

You pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart right there, from demanding why Dean had obviously only called you for sex and a pick-me-up when there plenty of women in Lebanon that could do that for him, from begging him to wake up and see you were right in front of him and that what you had was very much real before it was too late. Instead, you continued climbing the stairs. 

“Keep us updated and give us a call if you need anything,” Sam called after you.

“Will do,” you forced out.

“Good luck,” Jack offered.

When you reached the top, you glanced once more at Dean. His expression hadn’t changed one bit. The green gaze staring back at you was cold, hard. You let out a huff and shook your head, turning to open the door and close it behind you. That had been the very last time you saw him.

After that, you went back to the motel you had been renting a room in, packed up, and headed across state lines. You ignored Dean’s calls but took Sam’s. 

Apparently, at some point, you had vanished when Chuck disappeared everyone. You had no idea until Donna filled you in. That explained the several missed calls from both Sam and Dean and the voicemails they left. Both had sounded desperate, especially Dean. 

“Please, Y/N. I know you’re pissed at me and I get it but please call me back. Or call Sam. I don’t care. Just as long as we know you’re still with us and that you’re okay.” His tone sounded rough around the edges but considering the context Sam gave you when you did call him (there was no way you were calling Dean, especially not now), you realized they were just desperate to get in touch with anyone, having lost Cas and being the only three forms of life left on the planet.

Dean was right, you were angry. Angry that he’d used you that night, angry that he’d broken your heart in the first place. He had pursued you before you got together, not the other way around. By the time you let your guard down enough to let him in and things kicked off between you, he was deep in. Or so he’d said. By the time he ended things, you were deep in yourself. Now…now you were in even deeper thanks to him, so deep you were pretty sure Dean would haunt you the rest of your life no matter how you tried to shut him out of your heart.

Another tear rolled down your cheek. Though, you’d never meant the word haunt literally.

You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out an aggravated breath before getting to your feet. You grabbed your coat, your emergency bag, your hunting bag, and the car keys from the table near the door. You locked up and got into the car you only used for hunts and grocery trips now, starting it and backing out of the driveway. 

It’s not that you doubted what Sam had told you or Sam himself, but you needed to see things for yourself. You turned the car in the direction that would lead you to Kansas.

You opened the door to the Bunker, seeing nothing but darkness greeting you, the clanking of the door being the only sound to echo in the large chamber. That was strange. They never shut it down when they left for hunts. You hit the lights and hearing a loud thrumming sound, you watched as they came back on, one by one. You had your own key since you were also a Legacy. You’d never been more thankful for that fact when you arrived to find the Bunker locked down, no Sam in sight.

You shut the door behind you and dropped your bags near the table. You bit your lip to keep your eyes from welling up when you noticed an unfinished chess game on the table, most likely one that Dean and Cas had been engaged in, but now neither of them would be back to complete it. Instead, you focused on the matter at hand. You pulled your gun out and an angel blade, slipping the latter into your coat pocket in case you needed it. In the other pocket, you slipped a flask of holy water and a small piece of iron bar you could wield if need be. In your gun sat silver bullets; you couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Especially if the word was out to the world of the supernatural that Dean Winchester was gone and only Sam was left now, alone. 

You slowly made your way down the stairs, listening intently for any other noises you might hear. All that you could make out besides your footsteps was the low hum of electricity that was commonplace for the old bunker. You cleared the library, the hallways, the kitchen, the shower room, the infirmary, the Dean Cave where you’d been forced to watch The Lost Boys and slasher films more times than you cared to count (you had dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying when you saw the DVD cover of Tombstone left near the TV), every single room in the place until you came to the one that made a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it back down and forced yourself to focus, raising your gun that much higher. You opened the door and hit the lights, scanning every which way. The room was clear.

You lowered your gun and made your way inside, the lump in your throat back again. Your eyes roamed over the hastily made bed; the empty dog bowls on the floor (which made your brows furrow in confusion slightly); the messy desk; the empty beer bottles on the table; the headphones on the nightstand; the shotguns on the wall; the books scattered about; the load of laundry sitting off to the right in a corner. Memories washed over you and your eyes began to sting as tears welled up. 

You’d walked into the room to find Dean jamming out on his bed, listening to music through the headphones he’d insisted on buying on your last trip. You huffed out a laugh and dropped the laundry basket of folded clothes onto the bed, garnering his attention. 

He opened his eyes and glanced up to find you smiling at him. 

“What are you listening to?”

He held one of the phones away from his ear and you could hear some serious strumming of heavy metal guitar coming out of it. “Huh?”

“I said, what are you listening to?” You asked a little louder.

“What?” He nearly yelled.

You picked up the top item from your pile, his Scooby Doo underthings, and playfully tossed it at him. It landed squarely on his chest and he immediately jumped up as if it had burned him, his cheeks turning redder by the second as he threw the headphones onto the bed.

“You did my laundry?” He asked in horror.

Amazing. You two had explored every single inch of each other time and time again, been sort of rooming together for the past month, but he was embarrassed that you washed his dirty underwear?

You shrugged and began to place his folded clothes on the bed. “I had room in the washer so I figured I’d grab yours, too. You’re welcome.”

“You washed our clothes together?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

You gasped and gave him a mock look of horror. “Oh no, not together.” You tossed a pair of jeans over at him and he caught it in time. “I used detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, and everything,” you teased. “But putting it away is where I draw the line, pal. That’s on you.” You pointed to the neat pile sitting on the bed before moving over to the door to head to the room you kept your things in down the hall. 

Arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping your trek, and Dean murmured into your ear, “You washed my clothes for me?”

“And folded, too,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”

“Mmm, what else can I get you to do for me?” He grabbed the basket from you and placed it down before gripping your hips and moving in to kiss your neck.

“Hey, I’m not your maid. I had room in the washer, that was it. Don’t get used to this,” you laughed before digging your teeth into your lip when you felt his tongue on a particular part of your skin. 

“What if I want to get used to this?” He moved up to your jaw line.

“I’d say you’re SOL. Unless…”

“Unless?” He hummed near your lips.

“Unless you finally let me tidy up this room a little.”

His head shot up, frowning down at you. “What? Why, what’s wrong with how it is now?”

“Well,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Some of these papers on the desk need organizing, the books can be put in a stack on the table over there, these empty beer bottles can be thrown out, the shotguns you have near the bed can be put away…”

“There’s nothing wrong with anything you just mentioned,” he grumbled.

“Oh, really? So the other night when you were doing that thing—”

“That thing you really like,” he interrupted, smirking cockily at you.

You had to keep from rolling your eyes and smirking yourself. “When I moved, I knocked into the shotgun and it fell. It almost went off. You remember that?”

“Nothing happened or went off, well, except you.” His smirk got even bigger. “You remember that?”

This time you gently swatted at his shoulder. “Dean.”

He heard the warning in your no-nonsense tone and laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “Alright,” he whispered to your lips. “I’ll put the shotguns up out of the way. But everything else stays.”

You huffed out an exasperated breath. One of these days when he wasn’t looking, you swore you’d do as exactly as you’d suggested. Clear out the empty bottles and stack the books at the very least. 

“Hey, it’s all about compromise, right? Speaking of that,” He turned you around in his arms and you were once again facing the laundry basket he’d left on the floor. “Find a space and keep some of ‘em in here.”

A pleasant shock ran through you. “Are you sure?” You whispered.

He slowly turned you back around and gently cupped your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. You’re practically sleeping in here every night, anyway. I’d rather you not have to put back on the same clothes from the night before or walk naked down to your room. Then again, naked…”

You glared up at him, making him chuckle and brush his lips against yours. “I just didn’t want to crowd you,” you admitted after a moment. “It’s your space. If I’m in here too much, I can—”

 “I want you here.” You gazed into his green eyes, unsure, but all you saw staring back at you was softness with a glint of earnestness. He was telling you the truth; he really wanted you to stay. 

“Okay,” you agreed with a shy smile.

He beamed at you and then picked you up, making you gasp loudly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Not that you’re gonna be needing them right now.”

You shook your head and kissed him as he walked you both towards the bed. When he had you on it, you could hear the music coming from the forgotten headphones. “Is that…Whitesnake?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Uh huh. One sec.” He reached over, quickly clicked something on his phone, and the music suddenly changed. You smiled when a familiar song started up.

“Really?”

“What? It’s our song.”

You framed his face with your hands, looking up at him affectionately. “Dean Winchester, secretly sentimental and sensitive guy extraordinaire,” you teased him.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m not any of that crap. It’s the first song we made good use of Baby’s backseat to, that’s all. Now that you’re staying in here, we gotta celebrate.”

Romantic. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Like I said, sentimental.” You pulled him down to you and kissed him sweetly. Needless to say, he had been right; you hadn’t needed your clothes for a little while.

You took in a ragged breath, your fingers gently touching over the papers on his desk. While you hated the empty beer bottles and you didn’t want to end up possibly shot with a salt round during a passionate moment of sex, you really hadn’t minded how he had things. You knew this was the first home he and Sam ever really had. He could keep things messy or disorganized if he wanted to; he had more than earned the right. It might sound silly to someone else but he deserved to experience living in a home, mess and all, like everyone did at some point in their lives. Not only did he not have a place to do that since he’d been four years old, he’d never felt comfortably settled in anywhere ever to be able to do it. You remembered him and Sam telling you how long it had taken Dean to settle into this room, to think of the Bunker as not just theirs but home. You’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried to take that away from him, and you would be the last person to try to do it yourself. You still thanked him when he hung the shotguns up on the wall; you were beyond grateful. That time, he was the one who went off and quite happily.

A sob nearly tore its way out of your chest when you saw his handwriting on one of the papers. Your fingertips traced each letter. How could he really be gone?

You ran your fingers over an open file, wondering what he had been looking at, when you heard the clicking of nails on the floor behind you. You spun, lifting your gun, to find Sam standing in the doorway, watching you with wide eyes as a dog appeared beside him. That must have been what you’d heard. You lowered the gun and let out a relieved breath. “What are you doing here?”

You winced internally at your question. He had every right to be here, this was his home. You were the intruder.

“The monitoring system we set up… I was alerted that someone was in the Bunker. I locked it down and I know only he and I had the keys, so I didn’t know if…” You watched as he compulsively swallowed.

You turned back to the desk. “I get that. Where were you, by the way? Why did you lock it down?” He didn’t answer for a moment when you glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing his gaze glued to the ground. “Sam?”

His eyes flicked up to yours and he swallowed again. “I was on my way to Austin. For a case. But then…” He gestured towards you. “I turned around and headed back to see.” You noticed he didn’t mention why he had locked the Bunker down but then again, he didn’t really need to. Who else would be coming here now that Dean, Cas, and Jack were gone? Mary was gone as well as most of the other hunters you’d worked with over the past couple of years. Apocalypse World Bobby was still up in Minnesota somewhere. Apocalypse World Charlie and Stevie had moved East, choosing to retire after what happened with Chuck temporarily disappearing everyone. Garth and Bess still lived in their home with their family. Jody and the girls had their own operation up in Sioux Falls with Donna lending a hand every now and then. And you…well, you never told Sam where you were. 

You gave him a slow nod and dropped your eyes back down to the desk, running your fingers over the pages of an open lore book Dean had been reading. It was probably ridiculous but you thought maybe you could somehow still feel him here (though you did not want him to be a ghost), that perhaps by touch or sight or smell even that you could somehow connect to what his last days had been like. You wondered if he somehow knew deep down or if he hadn’t seen it coming. Even though he had always told you that he didn’t see a good ending for himself down the road, that he was forever bound to this life, you knew he also secretly fantasized about his life going in a different direction, one he’d included you in once upon a time. You then wondered if there was a girl somewhere who was either waiting for a phone call she would never get or was crying her eyes out because Sam had given her the news like he had you. It hurt to think that maybe he had found someone that he envisioned another future with instead of you, with someone he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chuck hadn’t inserted into his life as a manipulation or a story device. Someone that he didn’t question what he had with them, if it was real. Though at the same time, you hoped he found a little piece of happiness. You still loved him enough to want that for him.

You briefly closed your eyes in pain when you remembered that last night you spent with him, telling him you loved him. You truly meant it and even though he hurt you again and again, you still did. You forced the thought away and instead chose to focus on the open book in front of you. “What was he working on?” You choked out, quietly clearing your throat once you heard how rough your voice sounded.

You turned the page, seeing mentions of witches and vampires, when you realized Sam never answered you. You glanced back at him, arching your brows in question.

Sam’s eyes were wide and laser focused on your body, his mouth hanging open. Shit.

You should’ve known that despite the dark clothing you were wearing, the long black coat you were sporting, turning away from him, that you wouldn’t be able to hide your secret much longer. Truthfully, it wasn’t even something you’d thought about when you set out for the bunker. Had Sam been here when you arrived, he probably would have seen it then.

You turned towards the younger Winchester and Sam’s eyes flickered up to you. “Are you…?”

“Yes, Sam.”

Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing back and forth between you and your protruding belly. You read the clear question in his eyes that he was burning to ask.  

“You’re going to be an uncle.”

Except the few times he’d been close to death, you’d never seen Sam look so pale.

You and Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Miracle (as you’d come to find out was the dog’s name) laid at your feet, his head on his paws.

“How?” Sam finally asked you.

You snorted in amusement. “You know how.”

“No, I mean… Why didn’t you tell Dean? Did you tell Dean? Because he didn’t tell me and I don’t think that’s something he wouldn’t have told me.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sadness wrap around you once more. “No. I didn’t tell him,” you whispered. It was now the biggest regret of your life, right before the second biggest one of you walking out of the bunker the morning you’d last seen him and not fighting harder to get him to let you back in.

“Were you ever going to?”

Your eyes snapped to Sam at the judgment clear as day in his tone and they narrowed. “No, I wasn’t. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me or anything related to me. So, no, Sam, I wasn’t,” you snapped.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his lap.

You turned your gaze forward again, taking a breath to tamp down the familiar anger and resentment that you’d worked so hard to try to let go of. After a moment, you rubbed at your forehead. “Yes,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I think so…”

Sam stayed quiet and let you sort through your thoughts which you were grateful for. You’d been caught completely off guard by the pregnancy yourself. When you found out, you thought back to how you unwisely didn’t take your usual precautions and since you and Dean had broken up long before that, you hadn’t been too concerned with maintaining your birth control. 

You’d thought over your options. Bringing a kid into the hunting lifestyle was the worst thing you could do to it. Dean and Sam were living proof. Their mom herself had known it which was why she tried to get out when she married their dad. Not to mention, it would make you vulnerable in your line of work and the kid would always be in danger, always have a target on its back. Plus, you were pretty sure that even if you told Dean, he’d be less than thrilled. He always told you he didn’t want kids, for the very reasons you were now facing. And did you really want to bring a kid into the world that Chuck was about to end, only to have a father who was dismissive of it, or even hated it? You didn’t think Dean would be capable, he’d been great with Jack and Ben after all, but this was different. This kid would have his blood, his genes, would look like him somewhat. Sure, he had that in Emma once and that had torn him up, but this would also be different. This was for the long haul. And that’s only if he even wanted to be in this kid’s life. Which he might opt not to. How could you do that to your child? So you considered choosing to end the pregnancy, which would have been a true mercy given everything stacked against it before it would be born, but eventually you decided otherwise. 

You’d heard the baby’s heartbeat on a checkup while you were still mulling it over, and that was it. Dean wanted to know if what you had was real or not? Here it was, its little heart thumping away deep within your body. After that visit, you’d decided the hell with it. You were someone who believed everything happened for a reason, well before things with Chuck went bad though you still operated on this age-old belief most of the time. You were having a kid, one who would be half of you and half of Dean, the love of your life for all intents and purposes. Though it had hurt when he dismissed you that morning, perhaps this had been the reason why he called you out of the blue, wanting you to come to him, and why you went despite knowing what would most likely happen and how much pain it would cause you.

So you made a decision to start pulling out of hunting. Donna rented her family cabin in Hibbing to you. Bobby hadn’t been back since Mary died so it was sitting empty and unused. You hid the pregnancy as best you could but ultimately, once the first trimester was over and you had popped, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Donna found out though she never knew who the father was. She didn’t pry which you appreciated. When she called you to warn you that Billie was making people disappear left and right, a familiar fear clawed at your chest. Not only fear for your child but also the fear of what if Dean found out about it. That was the only thing that kept you from offering to come down to Kansas to help. 

“We’re going into some place warded to protect us. You should do the same. I can send you pictures of the sigils they’re using.”

“Okay, thanks. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. You just stay safe in the cabin. You and…well, you know.”

You appreciated her staying discreet when you heard Sam’s voice in the background. “I will. Thanks, D.”

“You betcha. Talk soon.”

You hung up and Donna did indeed send you the pictures. You did your best with what you had but it didn’t matter in the end. The last thing you remembered was painting a sigil on the window and then everything went black. The next thing you knew, you were back at the window, your finger extended towards the glass, the half-finished sigil staring back at you. You noticed the sun was in a different position in the sky than it had been and you immediately grabbed your cell phone. Two days had passed. How? 

It hit you then what happened and you dropped the phone with a cry, immediately grabbing at your stomach. You ran for the machine Jody had shipped to you after Donna told her. At the time you’d been annoyed, but right now, you couldn’t be happier at the sheriff knowing about your pregnancy once your baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the bedroom. You let out a huge sigh of relief, rubbing your belly affectionately. “We had quite a scare there, didn’t we, kiddo?”

It dawned on you then that while you had vanished, you were back, baby and all. Did that mean everyone else was back, too? You went back downstairs for your cell phone and immediately called Donna. Yep, everyone was back, they had all disappeared, and it wasn’t Billie but Chuck who had done it. You asked after Dean and Sam and that was when she told you about Cas and then Jack. You knew both brothers would be devastated, especially Dean, and you considered breaking your radio silence to call him. However, you chickened out at the last second and called Sam instead to check in.

It’s not that a part of you didn’t want to tell Dean he was going to be a father, it was that you were scared of what would happen when you did. Originally, you had feared that he would turn his back on you completely, more importantly on his kid, but now you were worried that maybe it would be the exact opposite. While you would be happy for him to be actively involved in your child’s life as its dad, you also knew Dean. He would try to resume things between you, make it work for the kid’s sake. Just look at how long he tried to make it work with Lisa for Ben’s sake. Not that he didn’t love her and he ended up leaving to protect them, but even Lisa knew his heart wasn’t in it. While that had been for different reasons involving hunting and Sam’s reappearance in his life, he still tried to make it work. But as he’d told you, the family thing didn’t work for him, and besides he already had a family with Sam, Cas, and Jack. You hadn’t missed how he didn’t include you in that group; you supposed you should’ve known then. 

You didn’t want him to fake wanting to be with you just to give your kid some semblance of a family life that Dean himself hadn’t really had. You didn’t know if you could take him forcing himself to kiss you goodnight before turning his back on you every single night. Or forcing a smile when he’d come home after a long day and you were the first thing he saw when he stepped inside. It was a ridiculous fear to have, you knew that, and you should be stronger than this — you were stronger than this. Not to mention, you knew you were being selfish and not at all fair to your baby or Dean. But the images kept replaying over and over in your mind, making you flinch, and you told yourself you’d tell him the next day. The next day turned into next week, then the next month. Before you knew it, you were in your third trimester and you were getting a call from his younger brother to inform you of his untimely death.

Maybe that’s really why you raced down here from Hibbing. Maybe that’s why you wanted to see for yourself that he was gone. Not only to confirm that the man who had your heart was gone for good, but also so you could tell him, hoping he might hear it wherever he now was. Or maybe by some act of mercy Jack could relay it to him, wherever Jack was. It was cowardly, you were a coward, and you hated yourself for it. You knew you should have told Dean months ago, after you found out that he and Sam had beaten Chuck, Jack was in charge of the universe now, and the world was not coming to an end anytime soon. Regardless, you couldn’t turn back the clock.

A tear escaped that you quickly wiped away, not caring if Sam saw or not. “You know, when you first told me about Dean, I considered a demon deal.”

Sam’s head snapped up. “No! That’s not what he would want! No!”

You held out a placating hand. “I know. I’m not going to do that.” He seemed to deflate slightly in relief. “I can’t, anyway.” You motioned to your bulging stomach. “I couldn’t do that to my kid. Only be around for 10 years and then poof, I’m gone? Even if it had Dean, if Dean wanted it that is, it’s still terrible to do that to a kid.” You winced slightly when you realized you were saying this to Sam Winchester of all people.

“Dean would’ve wanted it,” he assured you quietly.

You grimaced and dropped your gaze down to the dog who was staring up at you. “Maybe.” You reached down to pet his head. 

Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would’ve.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, when you murmured, “Is there any way to get him back?”

Sam let you go and his hazel eyes began to shimmer. “No,” he choked out. “I, uh, checked with Jack and he said it was his time. So…no.”

“What?” You snapped, getting to your feet. “After everything you’ve done for that kid? He just—”

Sam got to his feet, tenderly cradling your shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want to hear it either but…Jack’s right.” Your jaw dropped, ready to let some f-bombs fly (which you usually tried to avoid since the baby could now hear you), when Sam’s hands moved up to your face, trying to get you to listen. “He was ready to go. Jack confirmed it. Dean’s in Heaven and he’s at peace.”

Tears were on the edge of falling when you heard that. “He’s in Heaven?”

Sam nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah. He is.”

If Dean was in Heaven…well, then that was some consolation at least. Just when he thought he’d never make it there thanks to his being a demon for a short stint, being killed by a Hell Hound, and everything that had occurred over the years — even some of the things he’d done. But that also meant he was gone, for good this time. It was confirmed; he wasn’t coming back. It hit you like a freight train and it punched a huge hole in your chest. You felt as if you were falling, falling, and would never stop. Dean was…gone. “Then he’s…”

“He’s gone,” Sam confirmed. “He’s not coming back.”

Your knees buckled and you nearly fell, Sam thankfully having caught you. You heard a wailing sound but you had no idea where it was coming from until you felt it ripping its way out of your body. Sam gingerly picked you up in his arms and moved you onto the bed. You were violently sobbing and you barely noticed Sam holding you, gently rocking you back and forth, his own tears falling into your hair. Miracle had jumped up and laid next to you, whining quietly and trying to shove his head under your hands, rubbing his body carefully against your belly. 

There was no way. No way that this was real. This had to be a nightmare. But when you heard Sam sniffle above you, choking out, “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” you knew that it wasn’t. Memories of Dean’s face, his laugh, his smiles, his touch, his scent, the way he looked at you when you’d both been happy together, his kisses, the way he felt like home in a way that no other person or place ever could, the way he made you feel safe — all of it smashed over you like a tidal wave and it didn’t let up. Dean Winchester, the man you’d loved with all of your heart, the man whose child you now carried inside of you, was gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back.

Dean had just pulled the Impala over at a beautiful spot, where you could see nature’s beauty for miles. He rested back against Baby and marveled at it all. There was even a double rainbow that showed up and Dean chuckled, knowing that had to be Jack’s doing considering there hadn’t been any rain. Then he wondered if it did rain at all. How did things like that work up here anyhow?

He was still enjoying the view when Jack popped in next to him. 

“There he is.” Dean grinned and went to give him a hug before he thought better of it. “Am I still allowed to…you know?”

Jack smiled. “Of course. I like hugs.”

Dean laughed and embraced him tightly. “Thanks, kid. For everything you did up here, I mean. Bobby told me.” He pulled back, clapping his shoulder in thanks. “So, where’s Cas?”

“He’ll be along shortly but first, I need to show you something.”

Dean’s brows furrowed but he shrugged. “Okay.”

Jack placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and next thing Dean knew, he was back in his old room at the Bunker. “Whoa,” he whispered, thinking Jack and Cas had built the Bunker just for him. He would be able to wait for Sam here, in his home. He hoped the TV in the Dean Cave worked and that he still had access to his music. Baby’s radio had worked so he had high hopes. He was about to thank Jack when his eyes suddenly caught sight of someone in his bed. Well, two someones. 

He glanced towards Jack who gave him a subtle nod, silently encouraging him to get closer. Dean shot him a confused look but did move closer. When he caught sight of you, his heart dropped into his stomach. Even being dead, he felt the same exact thing he felt the last time he had seen you. You were the one who got away, or more appropriately, the one he pushed away. 

Sure, he’d been confused when he found out everything in his life was a lie when Chuck revealed himself to be a giant dick, but he did love you. He had such trouble reconciling the two: what he knew to be true and what his mind was telling him. No other romantic relationship had worked out for him, all two of them prior to you, and now he knew why. Chuck liked him better on his own, being the guy with no strings attached and rolling through town to save the girl, kill the monsters, get thanked, and move on his way. The only other person Chuck liked having in the Impala regularly was Sam. You, well, you he hadn’t seen coming and after the Big Bad Chuck reveal, he had to wonder why. 

He had never meant to hurt you, though he couldn’t seem to stop from doing it. If things weren’t real between you all of this time, he didn’t want to keep pretending like they were. That wasn’t fair to either of you and he certainly didn’t want to continue stringing you along when his heart was no longer in it like it used to be. So he let you go, as painful as it was and as wrong as it felt, he did the right thing by you. Then that night he’d called you out of the blue, he’d been torn up about Cas’ revelations about Jack’s actual role in Billie’s plan, how badly he wanted Chuck gone, and how while he didn’t want to sacrifice the kid, he wanted his and Sam’s freedom more. Without thinking, he’d picked up the phone and dialed you. He shocked himself when he asked you to come over after hearing you weren’t that far away, and you shocked him even more when you agreed. 

Dean hadn’t planned for you two to be intimate, but once you were there, right in front of him, it hit him hard how much he missed you, missed what you had together. So he made a move and you let him. He’d put everything he had, everything he felt but couldn’t tell you, into this stolen moment in time between you. And then the next morning, he thought it had all been a dream until he turned his head and saw you laying there, hair adorably disheveled, sheet covering you, doing something on your phone. It briefly reminded him of the many mornings he’d woken to find you in this exact same position, already up after a wild night, searching for cases. He wanted to bask in the comfort and familiarity for a moment longer, but when you turned and smiled at him, greeting him like you always had, he started kicking himself internally. He didn’t want you to think that this meant things would change when he knew they wouldn’t. He was being unfair to you and it wasn’t right. He’d been a selfish bastard and now he had to go into dick mode which would hurt you again. And sure enough, he knew he did when he saw your face fall as he easily dismissed you, not once but twice. He winced at the memory; he certainly didn’t blame you for not taking his calls or returning his voicemails after that.

The truth was that while he had initially been confused about his feelings for you and their validity, he knew he cared deeply about you and the most important thing was keeping you safe. He didn’t want you involved in the Chuck showdown, which is why he rudely dismissed you that morning, making up an excuse of a case in Duluth, something he knew you’d go along with. After watching you leave, as the door closed behind you, his heart fell into his stomach and he felt about three inches tall. He hated hurting you, hated pushing you away, but he knew it was for the best. You needed to be safe; not a target for Chuck.

After Chuck had been defeated and Jack took over, Dean realized in those months that he’d been a grade A idiot when it came to you. Sure, he’d been a cold dick, but he also had been a complete dumbass. He still loved you and he missed the hell out of you. What you had together had been something special that he stupidly threw away. There were quite a few nights after quite a few drinks, he’d picked up his phone and hovered over your number but he never actually called it. How could he even think of asking you to forgive him and give him another chance? After everything he’d said and done? He truly was a selfish bastard. 

When he didn’t call, he then switched over to all of the photos and videos he had taken of you and both of you together. As he heard your laughter, saw both of your smiles, watched how you looked at him and the affection you’d shown him, he continued drowning his sorrows. He wanted so much to talk to you, to apologize and explain, and ask if he could come see you, but he never let himself ask. He didn’t deserve it; he knew that. 

Now, here you were, asleep on his bed, Miracle curled up next to you. Staring down at you, he wondered how the hell he had ever let you go. And now, he’d never get to hold you again, feel your touch, or even share a conversation with you ever again. Even though Dean was at peace with his fate, regret languished within his chest the more he studied your face. He reached out to brush some hair back over your face but sadness overwhelmed him when he realized he couldn’t even do that small simple touch. Not anymore.

Dean’s eyes narrowed when he noticed an arm curled around you, almost protectively, pinning you to another body. His gaze traveled up that arm to find his younger brother, asleep right behind you. That surprised him but he quickly put two and two together. You must have gone to the Bunker when Sam called you to tell you the news and here you were, in Dean’s room, asleep on his bed with his dog. And while he didn’t begrudge you or his little brother some comfort you both might need, he didn’t like the look of that embrace or that Sam’s face was buried into the back of your neck.

Dean glanced back down at the arm, seeing Miracle staring right up at him. He couldn’t help but smile at the canine who had been his companion for months before he died. “Hey, boy,” he whispered, not sure if he would be heard or not but not wanting to startle you if he was. “How are you?”

Miracle didn’t seem to react at first, not until he got up and moved closer, wagging his tail. Dean went to try to pet the dog, hoping he could at least touch the animal, but he never got that far. His eyes zeroed in on just what Miracle’s body had been blocking.

His wide eyes flicked up to you, to Sam, back to you, and back to your fairly large and round stomach. The hell with being heard and possibly scaring you two. He glanced back to find Jack watching him. “What the hell is going on here, Jack?”

“They’re sleeping.”

“I’m aware of that,” he growled. “But what—”

Just then, Cas popped in next to Jack. When the angel saw Dean, he offered a soft smile. Dean felt himself relax slightly and a part of him wanted to go hug the angel but another part of him was nervous to. Plus, he really wanted to know what the hell was going on. He shifted his eyes towards Jack, his jaw tightening. “What the hell are you showing me?”

Cas glanced towards the bed, realization lighting his features, before he turned to Jack as well.

“The present,” Jack simply answered.

Dean cursed under his breath, not caring that both Cas and Jack could hear him. “The present of what? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like some time has passed.” He gestured towards your stomach. He tried not to be angry with you or Sammy, he really did, but dammit, his brother knew how he felt about you! Him dying didn’t change that! Besides, Sam had something going with Eileen last he knew, whatever happened to that?

“What you’re seeing is a few days after your death.”

Surprise ran through Dean at that revelation. So, this wasn’t some screwed up future scene he was witnessing? His eyes roamed over you, coming to rest once again on your stomach. You were very pregnant, looking as if you might be ready to pop any day now, he wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear; there was no way the baby was Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t have been able to keep that secret from him that long and he just didn’t see you or Sam going behind his back like that while he was alive. You were pissed at him, maybe even hated him, but you would never do that to him. Nor would Sam. The only answer was that you had found someone else and you were starting a family with them. Now he understood your radio silence even more. You might currently be sad at the news of his death, awash in memories in his room to where you’d fallen asleep on his bed and Sam had to comfort you, but you had truly moved on. That burned him even more. While he was happy if you were happy, knowing you’d found someone who wouldn’t break your heart and would treat you better than he ever could, a part of him was saddened by this knowledge. He knew you were too good for him, that you deserved better, but to see it confirmed in such a way, well, it was heartbreaking.

“So if she’s… Then she’s…” He couldn’t even put it into words; it hurt too much.

Jack clasped Dean’s shoulder. “The child is yours, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t alive anymore but if he had been, his heart would have stopped. He turned to Jack, shocked. “What?”

“You’re going to be a father,” Jack supplied, letting him go.

“But…how?” Dean’s gaze fell on you once more.

Cas suddenly appeared on his other side. “You don’t remember how you conceived the child?”

“What? No, I just…”

“Dean,” Jack called. 

When he turned to look at the new God, the latter held up a glowing finger to him that almost reminded him of that movie E.T. “What are you gonna do with that? Check my temperature?” Speaking of E.T., hadn’t that been one of the last movies picked for movie night before the Chuck showdown?

Jack smiled and touched the finger to his forehead. Within seconds, Dean was reliving every single moment between you two:

…When you’d met. 

…When he decided he’d liked you while you decided you didn’t like him too much.

…His constant flirting and trying to win you over.

…Your begrudging friendship that then grew into something more.

…Your relationship.

…Your breakup.

…All of the times you’d been in pain because of him.

…That last night.

…The next morning. 

Then the memories shifted to yours from after that morning: 

…You finding out about the pregnancy a couple of months later.

…Your hemming and hawing over calling him to tell him.

…Your fears.

…When you’d vanished with everyone else.

…Your panic upon your reappearance.

…The time you spent getting ready to retire from hunting and set up a normal life in Hibbing while preparing for the baby.

…The call from Sam with the news of his death.

…Your regret at not telling him about his child and your drive down here.

…Your conversation with Sam.

…Your collapsing in grief at finally realizing that he was gone and not coming back.

All of it that led to the scene he was witnessing now. He felt everything you felt, heard every thought, saw every tear, every smile. 

By the time Jack pulled away, Dean’s eyes were wet. He wasn’t sure how he was able to produce tears as a dead man but he did. Not only did he feel how deeply he’d hurt you, but he also felt just how deeply you loved him. He already knew he’d been an idiot when it came to you, but he really had no clue before this just how incredibly stupid he’d been. It had always been real between you. That hadn’t been Chuck. Not by a long shot.

Dean discreetly wiped his eyes. “Send me back.” His tone was firm and he wasn’t really asking.

“I’m sorry, Dean, but your time on Earth is up.”

Dean turned a menacing glare onto Jack. New God or not, he didn’t care. “She’s having my kid and she needs me. They both need me. Sam, too. After everything I’ve done for this world, you owe me.” Jack stared him down, unbothered by the taller man’s attempt to make demands. “Now I appreciate the Fixer Upper: Heaven Edition, I really do, but I should be with them. I deserve a shot at this and you know it.”

Jack mused on that for a moment before staring up at Dean sadly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”

Dean scoffed. “Then why bother showing me any of this? Why bother telling me that it’s my kid she’s about to have? What’s the point, dammit?”

“You were afraid that you had left nothing behind of value, except Sam and your beloved car. Afraid that your life hadn’t amounted to anything in the end. No matter how many people you saved, no matter how many connections you made, no matter what good you did.” Jack gestured towards you. “It did amount to something. You are leaving behind something, something important. A legacy,” Jack gestured to your stomach. “A family,” he waved his hand over you and Sam. 

Dean’s jaw clenched and he ignored the stinging in the corner of his eyes. “So this was just to show me what I can never have. The girl, the kid, the life…that’s just aces,” he muttered.

“No, Dean,” Cas spoke up. “What Jack is trying to explain is—”

“–your life amounted to more than you thought it had,” Jack finished.

Dean watched as Miracle went back and curled up against your belly once more, his head on his paws as he watched the scene in front of him. The corner of Dean’s lips tipped up into a smile. It was almost as if the dog knew it was his kid in there. And he was determined to protect it in Dean’s absence. His smile faded though when he thought of how he wouldn’t be able to see his kid, at all. He’d had enough of this. “That’s great. Appreciate the pep talk, fellas. Now, if you could send me back so I can actually raise my legacy and take care of my family, that’d be much appreciated.”

Jack and Cas exchanged a glance. Dean knew he wasn’t winning this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. “It’s not your time yet,” Jack answered cryptically.

Dean’s head snapped in his direction. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that now your time is in Heaven, not Earth. And it’s best if you return to it.” Before Jack could snap his fingers, Dean held up a hand.

“Whoa, wait! That’s it? You’re not even gonna let me stick around to see what I’m gonna have?”

Jack smiled once more. “You’re going to have a son. A strong, healthy son.”

Dean reeled from that information. “A son?” He choked out.

Jack gave him a happy nod and held his fingers up again.

“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Jack. Why can’t I stick around?”

“You know what happens to ghosts, Dean. Besides, you’ve already been admitted to Heaven.”

“But you can do something about that, right? Like bring me back?” When Jack didn’t respond, Dean became desperate. “At least let me check in on them every now and then or something! You’re telling me you can’t even do that? You’re freaking God!”

Jack’s smile faded. “You’re not an angel, Dean.”

“No,” Cas interrupted. “But I am.” Cas stretched out his wings that were a lot brighter than Dean remembered. If he wasn’t dead, he was pretty sure he would at they very least be blinded from the brightness right about now. “I can take him back when he’s ready and I can escort him on any future visits.”

Dean was shocked but also beyond grateful at Cas’ offer. While they hadn’t spoken yet about how things were left between them before The Empty took away the angel, he couldn’t imagine it would be easy for Cas to watch as he pined over someone else, as he watched his kid grow, but Dean was grateful all the same. 

Jack appeared to think this over before meeting Cas’ intent gaze. “You will make sure to bring him back each time.” At Cas’ nod, Jack gave him a knowing yet affectionate smile. “I expect you to keep to the rules during these visits.”

“Of course,” Cas agreed.

Jack then glanced over at Dean. “If you’re worried about her and your child, you don’t need to be. Sam is going to watch over them.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in your direction, his eyes shifting to Sam’s arm around you.

“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded.

“It means that your family is going to be safe. They’re going to stick together. Sam is going to help Y/N raise your son. He won’t allow any harm to come to them.” 

His jaw tightened, thinking it should be his arm over you, him behind you, him helping you raise your kid, you two together. He should be the one to take his son fishing, teach him about girls when he got older, show him how to keep Baby going, be the father his old man had the potential to be but minus a few things. He’d do whatever it took to keep the kid out of hunting, to give him a shot at a full happy life. He’d give up hunting himself in order to make it happen. And you…if you’d take him back, he’d never leave your side. Hell, he’d marry you if you let him. After Jack had caught him up to speed on everything you went through, everything you had felt and were feeling, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, letting you know every single day just how much he loved you, if only you’d let him. If only Jack would allow him to come back. It felt beyond wrong that he wasn’t there and Sam was stepping into his place. Sam shouldn’t have to; he should be able to go and build his own family with Eileen or whoever, get married, have a couple of kids, buy a house, get out of hunting and go back to school — do whatever he wanted with his life. Not this.

“Dean.”

His eyes slowly lifted to Jack’s, who was a lot closer now than he had been before. He laid a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s as it should be. After you died, Sam was lost. She’s going to need help when the child is born.” He stared at Dean meaningfully. “They all need this.”

Dean’s gaze briefly roamed over the three of you on the bed before landing on Jack again. He thought back to his cryptic words from before. “Will I ever meet my kid? Get to see her again? Outside of Heaven?”

Jack’s expression didn’t change nor did he say anything but he squeezed his shoulder. That was the only response Dean was going to get apparently. 

Dean huffed a snort and shook his head.

“I told you, Dean. There would be no more meddling with the world from on high. I will not repeat Chuck’s mistakes. Everything is as it should be.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and he dropped his gaze. No, everything wasn’t as it should be. He made up his mind then to talk to Bobby when he got back. There had to be something he could do to get back to Earth, to get back to you and Sam and the baby…to get back to you all. If he couldn’t convince Jack to send him back, he’d find some other way.

Jack released him as Cas came to stand next to Dean. “I’ll see you back in Heaven.” He then looked at Cas. “Not too long.”

Cas gave him a nod and like that, Jack disappeared, leaving the angel and the hunter alone. Dean wasn’t thinking about how that might have set them up to talk about Cas’ last words to him before dying; right now, his focus was on you.

“Cas, please…can I touch her?”

“Dean…”

“Please,” he begged. “Just one last time. I’m not gonna get to be with her or raise my kid. I just want to touch her one last time. Please, Cas.”

Cas thought it over and then moved closer to the bed, leaning down to place two fingers against your forehead. Dean’s brows furrowed when he noticed a golden glow appear from the touch. “Whoa, whoa, Cas. What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what you asked for. Y/N’s a light sleeper, like all of you hunters. If she wakes up, she could think she’s being attacked by a ghost or some other entity. I doubt you want that.” He pulled away and gave Dean a look.

“No,” Dean quietly agreed. Cas moved away to make room to let him in. Dean gingerly sat on the bed, about to touch you when he glanced up at the angel, unsure. Cas gave him a nod and Dean turned to gently run the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He felt your warm and soft skin this time when he came into contact with you and he let out a small breath of relief, sadness filling his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Had I known, I would’ve…” He supposed it didn’t really matter what he would’ve done. “I should’ve been there. You shouldn’t have had to go through all this alone. I should be there with you now, ready to help you take care of the kid. I…” He tenderly moved your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to become a target for Chuck. And I never should’ve…” He could feel a familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t surprised that his voice was a bit gruffer when he next spoke. “I knew what we had was real. I know I questioned it for a second there but I always knew. That’s why it was so important to me that you were safe. But it doesn’t make what I did and said okay. And I’m sorry for that.” He ran his fingers lightly over your lips, wishing he could kiss you one last time, feeling you kissing him back. “I love you,” he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek that he hastily wiped away. He stroked the apple of your cheek tenderly with his thumb. “And I always will.”

Not really wanting to pull away from you but knowing he was on a time clock, he reluctantly moved his fingers away from your face and laid his hand on your belly. He couldn’t feel anything except the taut skin underneath his fingertips, but it was enough to make him smile. “Being that you’re my kid, you’re probably going to give your mom a run for her money. Try not to make her too crazy, huh?” He let out a watery sounding laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be there but your Uncle Sammy is going to make sure you and your mom are taken care of. Okay? He’s going to show you how to toss a ball around, help you with your homework, all that stuff. Just do me a favor, though. Don’t let him feed you kale the whole time and don’t let him get you into his true crime podcasts. The guy is a classic nerd, don’t let him turn you into one, too.” His smile slowly faded. “Saying all that, he’s one of the best guys I’ve ever known and I know he’ll be good to you, be good to your mom. So cut him some slack when you get older, alright?” He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles. “Take care of your mom for me. I’ll be watching over both of you. I hope I get to meet you someday.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before sitting up and coming face to face with Miracle. The dog quietly whined and Dean gave him one last good head scratch. “You look out for them, okay buddy?” The dog whined again and Dean patted him.

“Dean,” Cas gently called.

Dean nodded and slowly got to his feet. His eyes shifted to Sam who was sound asleep, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks for taking care of them, Sammy,” he whispered. He didn’t vocalize that it was only temporary, that he was hell bent and determined to find a way to get back. His eyes then landed on you and he reached out to you one last time, trailing a fingertip along the dried tear tracks on your cheek. “Cas, can we just stay until they wake up?”

“Dean, Jack said—”

“I know what Jack said,” Dean snapped, glancing back at the angel whose parted lips pressed into a thin line. Dean immediately felt sorry for snapping at him; it wasn’t Cas’ fault and he wasn’t angry with him. He softened his tone. “I just want to be here when she wakes up. That’s all.” Cas seemed to be wrestling with his request. “Please, Cas,” he begged. “I just want to see her like this, awake.” He was slightly embarrassed at admitting that to his best friend but he wasn’t sure when he’d be allowed to visit again (and what he might be able to figure out to get himself back or how long it would take), and he had the strongest urge to see you up and about, walking around, pregnant with his kid. Not to mention he wanted to hear your voice one last time. “Please,” he whispered in a broken plea.

Cas stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. “But after she wakes, we go back.”

“Thank you, Cas.” He meant it. While he highly doubted Cas would get into any real trouble on his behalf, he knew how difficult it must be for the angel to unwillingly push against Jack’s rules.

Dean turned back to you, carefully sitting down next to you, caressing your face. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. He also made you a silent promise: he would do whatever it took to get back to you. His eyes briefly roamed to your stomach. To get back to both of you. Fate and the universe and all that crap be damned.

A/N: Sequel coming soon...

[dragonfly0808]

TimeBomb (Fix-It?) Fic with a side of Zaun Revolution

The inspiration really hit today, I feel like I blinked and all of a sudden I had 7k of a new fic.

what is it about? Well…

Whilst I really enjoyed s2 of Arcane and I loved almost everything about it, I will admit there was one specific plot point I was really disapointed didn’t go anywhere and one character decision that I just couldn’t get behind.

First off; watching Arc 1/2 and especially episode 4 I was fucking pumped at the idea of a Zaun revolution plotline, and, since i watched the seasons back to back, I’ll be honest, watching episode 4 combined with the fact that in the opening credits we see Jinx waving a flag, my immediate thoughts were OH MY FUCKING GOD JINX IS GONNA LEAD A REVOLUTION AND FULLFILL SILCO’S DREAM OF AN INDEPENDENT ZAUN…

Obviously I felt like a clown when that did not happen

and then for the character decision… I’m not really a fan of the ‘you’re too far gone the only thing you can do now is sacrifice yourself for the greater good/to save someone’ character arc. Especially because I really wanted to see Jinx get better since, at the end of s1 her identity crisis is over, she choses Jinx and then I thought that maybe we could get maybe not a redemption arc but at least see her get better whilst staying partially chaotic

A part of me really likes what they did (up until her sacrifice) but a greater part of me is just- disappointed. Especially after the whole ‘No matter what happened in the past it’s never too late to build something new’ bit. It just felt a little cruel.

And i know of the Jinx is alive theory and I believe it but still- I just don’t like that this was the end for Jinx in Arcane, I would’ve loved to see her and Cait having to come to terms with both their crimes and what they allowed their respective grief to turn them into.

also Ekko didn’t deserve to end the series alone, not after everything he did and everything he gave up.

and so, with these two specific things in mind, pondering on it I found myself writing a little smth.

A fic that takes place right after the Stillwater breakout BUT- Jinx, Sevika and Isha escape before the Beast gets there AND Ekko returns from the alternate timeline early, pushing Jinx along with Sevika to convince her to be a part of the rebellion.

So far, I’ve got 7k words on this and I’m thinking on how to involve Vi (another thing is that I felt we should’ve gotten a bit more time with her) since, in my mind, the revolution of Zaun should’ve been led by Vi, Ekko and Jinx.

Ekko to represent the fight for the future and as the face of the Firelights.

Jinx to represent the fight for the present (since her arc would involve starting to heal and finding smth worth fighting for) and of course to also represent Silco and his dream

And Vi to represent the past (since a big part of her character is being stuck in the past) and Vander

Jinx and Vi get to right the wrongs of the past and join forces like Silco and Vander never got to! (Because why include that letter if nothing really came from it?) also, as a sister who’s had a lot of ups and downs with her big sister, I would’ve KILLED to get to see more of their new dynamic ‘Here’s to the new us’.

Also Isha lives because she deserved better and also Ekko gets to be her dad.

still unsure on how/if I incorporate Cait cause I LOVE her arc and would love to write her and Jinx/Ekko interacting

but yeah basically, this is a Timebomb fic with a heavy focus on Jinx becoming the leader of a revolution (since at first it’s more, Jinx is the symbol, Ekko is the brains. And maybe at some point it’s more like; Ekko is the heart, Jinx is the symbol/leader and Vi is the strength OR Ekko is the leader/brains, Jinx is the symbol/leader/face and Vi is the heart, you know cause- YOU HAVE A GOOD HEART DON’T EVER LOSE IT)

Also a big part of chapter 2 somehow wound up being a look into Sevika’s mindset and why she’s lowkey the biggest supporter of Zaun? So if you like Sevika I got you!

so uhh… yeah.

i’m thinking on the name and just to know what yall think, knowing what the focus would be what title do you think would work best?

Will prob start posting once I’ve got 5 chapters, which, if I keep up the pace will prob be in 2 or 3 days

also, should i tag it as Fix-It? Not sure if I should tbh

Here’s a few little peaks! A tiny part of Ekko convincing Jinx to be a symbol (that was a LONG scene)/Part of the speech that starts it all/Isha being adorable in the Firelight’s base

Ekko adjusted his coat on her, she hadn’t really noticed him getting close enough to do so, “I fought so long to make the undercity a better place, or to at least create a safe place in it, but I got so wrapped up in all the ways that we’ve been screwed over, failed, in all the ways that it wasn’t even half of what I’d dreamed of no matter how hard I tried that I was starting to lose hope. But seeing that world… it helped me realize that… no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new.” 

Jinx forced herself to met his eyes, unsure of what to do under the weight of his soft eyes and the careful way he’d somehow gotten his hands in hers, stopping her from digging her nails into her palms.

“…someone worth building it for.”

Jinx felt something in her starting to crack, “I don’t know if I know how to build anything.”

“That’s alright,” he quickly assured her, his own eyes glittering with tears, “we can learn. This right here Jinx… this is our chance. I saw the murals, the posters, what you said back in the airshaft- if Piltover is targeting us… then maybe- just maybe, this could be our chance to bring all of the undercity together. To stand against Piltover, make them finally see us. I’m not saying we burn them to the ground but- we can fight back, fight for respect, for a seat at the table.”

Jinx took a step back, shaking her head, “I can’t- I’m not like you- I’m not a leader or- or some inspirational figure. They’re just desperate for anything to believe in. I’m not- I don’t deserve their faith.”

“But you’re the first to take a real stand in a long time. Sure it was an… explosive stand but a stand regardless. Directly against the Council, the people who have passed all the laws to try and make us less than them in the past. Who have had no trouble ignoring our struggles and claiming blissful ignorance when they screw us over. You have the chance to help bring people together. If we can stop killing each other over Piltover’s scraps and for territory… we can stand our ground. This could be the start of a rebellion. A revolution.”

“…I’ll screw it up. I always do.”

“You won’t… and if it does go wrong… it won’t be on you. We can do this Jinx, together.”

Jinx looked back out to the city line.

It’d been Silco’s dream.

To be recognized by Piltover. 

He hadn’t been able to bring Zaun together, sure, but everything he’d done had forced Zaun into progress… even if it wasn’t always in the best of ways. His biggest dream had always been of Zaun being it’s own nation.

It was the dream that’d been within his grasp, close enough to touch but that he had meant to reject in the end.

For her.

She’d bombed the Council as a way to honor him.

To finally show them all.

Everything had gone to shit the moment he was gone.

But now… now all of Zaun had a common enemy. 

There had been no singular group in Stillwater. Instead a coglamoration of Jinxers and Firelights and members from every gang Jinx knew of.

That meant that there had been no division at Sevika’s rally.

That for once, every part of Zaun had been open to the possibility of fighting for the same cause and had been promptly punished for it.

Jinx slowly turned back to Ekko.

Building something knew… he’d said Powder used her abilities to create instead of destroying… could she do the same?

Someone worth building it for… she thought of the hopeful look in Ekko’s eyes. Of the way the people of Zaun had, for a moment, embraced her, wrapping her in gratitude and misplaced but real hope as they passed by her. And of course, she thought of Isha, who deserved so much more than… this.

“I’m not saying I’ll be good at it… but I suppose I could give it a shot.”

Ekko reached out quickly, Jinx barely having time to flinch before he was tugging at her and-

Pulling her into a hug, all but crushing her against him, arms wrapped tightly against him.

She exhaled, falling against him, hiding her face against his chest.

They stayed like that for what was possibly an embarrassingly long time.

When she eventually managed to pull back, she turned away to wipe away her tears.

“So… how exactly does one start a revolution?”

—————————

“This is the time to stand together!” Ekko’s voice came as he stepped out from the crowd, wearing his firelight mask, going to take it off as he went to stand next to Sevika, “To leave aside the labels and separation and to work together, it’s the only way we’ll survive what’s coming next. Piltover wants us divided. They have always benefited from us killing each other, being at each other’s throats, fighting for territory and for their scraps. Not anymore! We need to stand together! To show them that we will not backdown! That they can’t invade our streets, our homes and expect us to just lay down and take it! That-”

“Where is Jinx?!” Demanded a voice, thought she couldn’t tell exactly where it came from.

Ekko sighed, casting a glance her way, waiting.

Jinx took a deep breath.

“Right here!” She called out as she went to take off her cloak, the people around her quickly going to clear a path as she sauntered on forwards, stopping next to Ekko for a moment before going to stand on the metal box Sevika had left on the floor, “You wanted to see me? Well here I am!”

Most of the crowd gathered around her, after a moment of stunned silence, started applauding, whilst some other looked like they wanted nothing more than to shake her and ask her what exactly her plan was.

Jinx glanced to Ekko, who gave her a quiet encouraging nod.

Welp, she didn’t really have anything to lose.

“Now… I don’t know much about leading, or about being some- revolutionary… but I do know about fighting. And I know about Piltover’s crimes.”

She recalled all of Silco’s sermones and every story and complaint he ever told her about all Piltover had and constantly took for granted.

This had never been her dream. But it had been her dad’s. And maybe it had started becoming her own the moment Isha had dropped into her life.

“I know that Enforcers have killed hundreds of us, a lot of times, for no good reason other than to show us that we are lesser than them, for us daring to stand up for ourselves, for doing what we gotta do to survive. That they have thrown dozens of us in cells without a trial just because they can. But the second we lay our hands on a single one of their precious Council members they suddenly have the right to invade our streets? To cry for justice to be delivered? It’s bullshit!”

A lot of them started nodding along, she could see the anger rising up in them.

——————————

Jinx took a deep breath before gently placing Isha on the railing, keeping a hand on the back of her vest, “Look at that kid. You like it?”

Isha’s eyes widened in a way that would’ve been comical if it weren’t heartbreaking. This was probably the first proper tree she’d ever seen.

Jinx set her down on the floor and the girl started jumping from foot to foot, clearly thrilled.

Ekko chuckled as he went to crouch down, “You see that platform to the right?” He asked as he pointed, Isha following before nodding, “That’s where the kids we have here play. We even managed to get our hands on some Piltover toys if you wanna go check it out. Jinx and I will be by the base of the tree if you need us.”

Isha hesitated, going to grab Jinx’s leg.

The girl had gotten a lot more confident since Jinx had first met her but it was obvious she had some anxiety about being apart.

Jinx went to crouch as well, gently running her thumb over Isha’s eyebrow before playfully pinching her cheek, Isha trying to act annoyed and push her away but smiling, “You should go kiddo. See if they got any good stuff. I’ll be right down there, I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Isha inspected her for a long moment before nodding along, adjusting her metal helmet as though it were armor before starting to make her way towards the platform.

“She seems like a good kid.” Ekko said.

“She is. She’s the best.”

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

  Story Masterlist

Chapter 9

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: thoughts about self-harm (biting thumb again), accidental self-injury(? + biting inside of lip which causes it to bleed), thoughts about implied murder, near panic attack, implied depression, slight blood, small/slight themes of obsession and possessiveness, slight themes of misogyny/some toxic behavior from Reader's family, please tell me if I missed any.

Nsfw warnings: OKAY, I honestly think Maria, if she becomes fond of a daughter-in-law, would absolutely push for grandchildren and take things into her own hands unless someone (Sierra) tries really hard to convince her otherwise. I’m really sorry for writing her as a creep but this will be the last time (either completely or for a very long time) I’ll write her like this. Anyway: suggestive, throwback to their 1st night, gifting of lingerie and aphrodisiac by Maria (again will not write her like this either completely or a long time, I tried rewriting this chapter so fucking much but this is what I settled on because it felt the most natural to me.) pushing for grandchildren, Maria somehow got the Reader’s measurements, please tell me if I missed any.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS/TOXIC ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE BOTH EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT INTERACT OR REBLOG ANYTHING FANDOM RELATED (FICS, ART, ETC.) DNI.

===

‘Dear father and mother, 

I am doing well so far. The food is delicious and the clothes are comfortable, made from the finest fabrics. I haven’t personally spoken to my father-in-law yet, but I’m going to meet him for dinner tomorrow at the time of writing this. The threat My husband is different from what I expected. Too nice. He’s not as brutal as others described him. It was surprising. But he’s a pervert and I almost hit him out of frustration and rejected his sexual advances like any sane person would. I know that you’ll say I should have let it happen, mother, but it hurt so bad I don’t think he’ll ever fit! Speaking of those vulgar activities, you lied - he wasn’t flustered in the slightest until I started crying. Can you believe that? He’s a creep! But hopefully he doesn’t kill or torture me he’ll continue to treat me nicely.

Of course, as his wife I’ll do my best to support him in fear of him or Lant killing me otherwise in every field to the best of my abilities. Just how you forced taught me.

I have talked to a few in-laws, including my mother-in-law. I heard that you drank with her, mother. She's very  lively and has a sadistic unique personality. She’s very sweet to me. I have also met the fourth wife, Sierra. She’s lovely, I think you’ll also get along with her, mother. 

I hope that the two of you are faring well. The same goes for Zac and Elena, of course. Speaking of which, how has Zac’s studies been? He’s not skipping them again, is he or planning something dangerous like that stupid but well-meant plan he informed you, father, about? Yes, I overheard everything. He is nothing but a boy - where did he even get those outrageous ideas from and why didn’t you tell me?

Is Elena doing well in her pregnancy? I know she moved out before me, but I’m still concerned about her and the baby. And Albert, he’s taking care of her, right? 

I’m not sure what else to write, so I’ll just leave it here. Please take care of yourselves. The same goes for my brother and sister.

Your daughter, (Name)’

“... I ended up writing what I really think… I need to rewrite this… again.” You sigh, leaning back in your chair as you crumble the letter in your hands. This was your fifth try, and while each one became less hostile and more casual, you weren't satisfied with any of the rough drafts to turn into a final draft. 

If you weren’t married to Dion, into this family, would writing to them be easier? You shake your head. No point in having these useless thoughts. Especially as Hana comes in with a knock and your permission, rolling in your lunch. 

 You can’t help but feel awful at the sight - it was food prepared by Agriche staff for an Agriche family member. Biting down a frown, you try to pretend your last name was still your maiden one.

In the end, you ended up going with Hana’s suggestion - basically saying that your husband fucked you too hard and rough last night and you needed to recover. Thanks to that, you didn’t have to change into the scarlet dress she picked out either - it was decided to be saved for the dinner you’ll have with both your husband and father-in-law tomorrow. 

You already asked Hana for indigestion medicine for tomorrow. 

“Thank you, Hana,” you put your stationary away and picked up the crumbled balls of paper that were failed attempts. She eyes you curiously but doesn’t comment on it. Instead she readies your lunch, placing the plates onto the table. 

The thought of eating makes you sick. You could barely hold down breakfast - could you hold down lunch? Or would your body give up immediately and reject the food? 

Warily looking at it, you notice two prettily wrapped up boxes - one pink with light red polka dots, the bow purple in color. The second box, a flatter one, had red wrapping paper with a tiny black hearts pattern, with the bow also black. Your heart speeds up as your gut twists painfully. If they were meant for you, they contain nothing well meant nor innocent.

“Oh, right,” Hana starts before handing both ‘presents’ to your unwelcoming arms, “Lady Maria sent these to you. I don’t know what they are, unfortunately.” With a grave look on your face you shakily thank her, a pained and forced smile stretching your lips. 

Maria sent these… oh boy, I sure do wonder what they are… 

“Later today, please help me pick out a gift for her. It’s only right that I repay the favor, especially since she’s my mother-in-law.” Placing them down next to your feet, you ignore the urge to kick them far, far away from you. It’s hard to keep your eyes off of the boxes. It’s hard to focus on your food, picking up your fork and knife as you cut into the grilled fish. 

It’s hard to chew, accidentally biting your lip hard enough to taste blood. It’s hard to drink the water as it threatens to choke you. It’s hard to not wince at the sharp sounds of cutlery against the plate as you imagine your head being chopped off like nothing. 

It’s hard to breathe. 

How much longer until you go crazy?

By the time you finish your meal, you’re sweating buckets. You hate it here. You want to go home -

“My lady, are you alright?” Hana’s voice drags you out from your thoughts, flicking your eyes to meet hers. She’s picking up the silverware and placing it back onto the tray, but quickly takes a clean napkin from it and hands it to you. You take it with shaky hands, doing your best not to drop it. Thankfully your brain didn’t lag for too long for you to realize it was for your sweat.

You pat down your temples with the white cloth.

“T-thank you… v-very much, Ha-Hana.” Why is your voice so shaky? Why are you stuttering? Hell, why are you sweating?

You already had one panic attack - you don’t need another one. Your right thumb throbs at the memory and your teeth want to clamp down on it. The bandages suddenly feel too tight around the digit and you want to rip it off so you could dig your teeth into it. You bite your lip, only worsening the newly formed wound. The taste of your own blood spreads throughout your mouth again. 

You need to stop. 

Your attention switches to Hana, the woman staring at you uncertainly. It wasn’t necessarily out of concern but rather confusion - just how was she supposed to comfort her master? …you’re probably putting her in a rough spot. 

…right. I just need to accept my new reality… but today is not going to be that day.

Taking in a deep breath, you force your nerves to settle down - positive thoughts, positive thoughts. The sun is warm, the birds are lively, the bed is comfortable, your husband is gone - 

This isn’t the first time, and clearly it won’t be the last. 

Quickly patting your bottom lip with the napkin, you hope her keen eyes miss the splatter of red on the white fabric.

“...thank you for bringing the food, Hana.” You’re not fully composed, not fully right of mind, but as the saying goes: fake it until you make it. You did it once, you managed to do it throughout the duration of the engagement, during the wedding despite feeling horrible, you did it while consummating your marriage despite being ripped open by Dion, you did it while at the tea party with Maria and Sierra, you did it last night when you told him off.

You did it back then, too. 

Force yourself to smile now. Tilt your head innocently. Act happy. Act happy. 

“I enjoyed it. Please give my thanks to the chief.” Your smile isn’t bright as the sun and slightly wavers. Your eyes aren’t shining brightly like stars, instead seeing past her. Your mind isn’t calm as you recall the brutality of this family that was shown and described in the story. 

Fake it until you make it. 

Yes, you think. Maybe you will have a conversation with Roxana. 

- - -

Hana left an hour ago yet you haven’t moved from your spot. No, instead you’re staring intensely at the presents in front of you on the table. They’re pretty, a bit childish looking. But knowing Maria… 

“...is it a trap…?” Carefully, you pick up the stereo typical present box and lightly shake it; it rattles. “Sounds a bit heavy… like a box within a box.” Curiosity gets the better of you and you gingerly untie the purple bow before ripping the wrapping paper. Despite the damn thing nearly sending you into another panic episode, it was satisfying to unwrap. 

A slightly smaller box is what you see once you manage to open the outer one. It was black and had a fancy red bow. Still a good size not to be something small. Unless it was a perfume. Breathing in deeply, you undo the ribbon and take off the lid. 

You’re met with a glass container roughly the size of your hand. Your heart drops at the yellow liquid inside. 

It looks exactly like the aphrodisiac your mother-in-law gave Roxana in the manhwa. 

“...what in the actual fuck… she’s basically telling, no, begging me to fuck her son… haha!” Your head rolls back as laughter overtakes you and shoulders violently shake. “I knew she was crazy, but fuck, how morally corrupt is this woman?” 

Instead of throwing it across the room like you should, you place it down on the table. You would have slammed it down if there wasn’t a chance that just smelling it could cause your body to heat up and become needy for a thing - a person - you don’t even want. 

“I’m scared to open up the other ‘present’...” in spite of that you pull at the black bow and unwrap it. You shake it - sounds like something soft. Like clothes. 

Oh. 

Oh no, no, no, no, no no -

“She didn’t. No fucking way… maybe it’s a sweater. Or a shawl. Gloves?” 

Trembling fingers take the lid off, a pink ribbon undone easily. This time, you throw the box to the floor after seeing what it held. 

A sheer black babydoll lingerie set. 

“Maria Agriche… you fucking creep…,” without another thought you shut the lid on it and shoved it into one of your drawers on your side of the dresser. Out of sight, out of mind you chant in your head, slamming the drawer shut. Your cheeks feel warm as both embarrassment and disgust fill your head and chest. 

… even if you wanted to sleep with him… or if you were in a healthy marriage with someone you love…

“...I could never wear that… it’s too revealing, too embarrassing.” Even in your old world you never wore such things. Not because you viewed them as dirty or slutty, but because they don’t suit you. Besides, putting in so much effort just for it to be taken off…?

‘I’m only going to ask once - would you rather keep your clothes on or off?’ 

“MMMMFFFF!!” Throwing yourself onto the bed at the memory, scream muffled by the pillow, you mentally curse both son and mother. The son because he made your first time so horrible you’re mentally scarred and the mother because she’s a creep. More so than her own fucking son. 

A few minutes later you manage to collect yourself somewhat. Dreadfully you go to the dresser to pull out the offending clothing. You don’t plan on putting it on or to hold it over your clothes to get a vague idea of it either. Just to get a better look at it. 

Opening it and picking up the article of clothing, you examine it; pretty lace details on the hem and breast cups, a flower pattern. It was soft as silk - clearly made from expensive materials. The straps were thin but they didn't feel too rough or stiff. Probably comfortable on the shoulders. 

Not like you would know - you never tried anything like this on. 

Curiosity killing the cat, you decide to see where it ends by holding it over your clothes; it barely brushes past mid thigh. A… awful curiosity forms in your head - how… would you look, in it? No. Before the question could develop more, you’re shaking your head as you fold it.

When you go to put it back you notice an envelope and panties in the box. First, you pick up the lacy underwear, frowning as you realize that somehow, someway Maria had gotten your fucking measurements. Did your mother also tell the crazed woman your three sizes… “No, she wouldn’t. Even if she was drunk, she wouldn’t tell anyone such private details.” 

That only makes it worse. 

Carelessly dropping it into the box you grab the letter, opening it after a moment of hesitation. It takes even longer to unfold the letter. And even longer to actually read it, only for horror to come across your face and soak your heart. 

‘Sierra told me it may come across as inappropriate to send such things to you… but I’m just so excited for grandchildren! Oh, but don’t feel pressured into wearing or drinking those things tonight. The aphrodisiac lasts a rather long time, so please do be careful. Considering it’s Dion, I thought you might need some… help whenever you decide to lay with him.

- Maria’ 

“No. Never.” 

Shoving everything back in, you shut the drawer close, making sure to hide the items underneath some layers of your… underwear…

You give up. 

“Ahh, why and how did I stumbled into the scene…” You turn around only to notice the yellow liquid contained in the glass bottle. Right. You forgot about that. “Maybe I should just pour it out…”

Not once did you realize nor notice how all the fear and fright left your body and mind, instead leaving caution and annoyance in its wake. 

- - -

Your husband returned at midnight, small amounts of blood splattered on his left cheek. When you look up from your book to greet him you notice that in the candlelight his eye bags seem darker. Deeper. 

His near sickly pale skin in the soft eerie glow of the candlelight makes him appear as a ghost and not a man. Your fingers curl into the book cover as you lower it into your lap mindlessly.

“...welcome…back.” Your body starts to quiver and your heart beats loud enough you could hear and feel it once you meet his eyes. Quickly scanning his person you notice he’s wearing the same uniform he wore in the manhwa: 

Black shirt with red rimmed shoulder pads that have an edgy skull engraved on top, the shirt long enough to reach below his knees and splits at the hips, tied together with a brown belt at the waist. If he were to turn around you would see the family crest proudly engraved into the fabric. Blank pants that disappear into nearly knee-height boots with long, tied laces. 

The last time you’ve seen him in that uniform was the first time you met him, bored expression plastered on his face as Lant introduced him with a smug smile on that disgusting face of his. All he did was shake your hand as you stood still with prayers to a God who held no love for you. With your father glancing your way every minute as you were left in some corner with your then fiance to hold a conversation that never happened. When he didn’t spare so much as a glance at you, instead staring off into space as you couldn’t take your eyes off your lap. 

Wait. 

No. 

Maybe back then, you were too deep in your thoughts to notice that unnerving stare. 

The same one he has now - looking at you as though you were his prey, scarlet eyes glowing in the candlelight, like you belonged to him and he would never change that fact. That he would never let you change it, either. 

It’s starting to settle in, the realization - he’s been looking at you like that this entire time.

“Wife.” 

The word mixed with his deep sleepy voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard - it makes your ears bleed and eye twitch as you hold back the grimace of how he addresses you. He only wants you because you’re a normal person.

The moment you become insane he’ll let you go. 

That’s the only explanation. It has to be. That’s the only explanation your brain could come up with and accept. 

You’re too scared to bring up the night before yesterday. Beads of sweat slowly roll down your temples and breathing shallow as Dion walks towards the bed, heavy boots echoing. Time stops as your heart drops once he reaches the bed, reaches you and without a single word, he grabs your right wrist and - 

“What happened here?”

Oh. You forgot about your bandaged thumb.  

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Rock, Meet Hard Place 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss makes a deal that proves less than beneficial for you.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Lloyd Hansen

Author’s Note: This is what you asked for so don’t even.

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself 💜

“Nick the dick. How’s it hanging? Little to the left? I’m a bit to the right myself,” Hansen strides into the room 

His arrival isn’t a quiet one. Fowler’s men put up the alert at their approach and their fearless leader spent several minutes fidgeting in agitated anticipation. As his adversary turned ally walks in, Fowler is already standing, coolly sipping from his whiskey. You’re glad he got it together. You don’t need him cracking right now. 

“Hansen,” Fowler lowers the glass. “Safe travels?” 

“Ah, ya know, got here with my foreskin on,” the mustached man chortles. 

You stare at him. Somehow, you’re not surprised by the trim along his upper lip. He would be the type. You stand quietly by the wall, observing. 

“And this must be the viper,” Hansen points as he turns to face you, “don’t think I didn’t notice you over there, sugar lips. Mm, a bit older than I expected but I don’t mind a vintage.” 

“Hansen,” Fowler girds. 

“Say, got enough of that to go around,” he flicks his index in Fowler’s direction, “I could use a drink about now.” 

“Help yourself,” Fowler remains by the unlit fireplace as he nods to the decanter and an empty glass. 

“You know what, you’re not too bad either. Got them Sinatra eyes,” Hansen grabs the crystal bottle and tumbler and pours messily, dripping some down the side. He sets down the decanter and switches hands, shaking off his fingers. He brings his knuckles up to suck off the excess. “Hard to tell when you’re behind a barrel, you know?” 

Fowler’s eyes wander over to you. You nod and turn your attention to the visitor. He drink sloppily and lets out a belch.  

“Damn,” he glances at you again, “you get anything done around her with her just standing there? Sweetheart, why don’t you do a spin? Bet you’re fine from all angles.” 

“Leave her alone,” Fowler grits. “You know this isn’t chummy. This is business.” 

“Ha, come on, loosen up,” Hansen insists, “finally, the two of us, together. Nothing in this world could stop us--” He pauses and his eyes drift over again. “Can you tell her not to look at me like that? I swear, I just retracted half an inch.” 

He reaches down to adjust the front of his cream-coloured pants. You roll your eyes. Fowler sighs loudly. 

“Damn, baby,” Hansen struts towards you, “do that again. I like that. You got the kinda eyes I want looking up at me--” 

“Don’t come any closer,” you warn. 

“Or what, mistress? Where’s the whip--” 

“Listen to her,” Fowler warns. 

“Ah, come on, we both know who the dangerous one is,” Hansen chuckles as he reaches to touch your cheek. You catch his hand and bend his fingers back. He yowls like a wet cat and recoils. You twist before you let him go. 

“I told you,” Fowler laughs, his first show of ease. 

“Fuck me,” Hansen presses his hand to his stomach. “Vicious. Oh, kitty, kitty, I like that.” 

“I won’t stop her.” 

“I don’t need you to,” Hansen winks. “Let me tell ya, the balls dropped again. Their fucking heavy. I got an idea how to drain them--” 

“Stroke your ego a little harder,” you retort. 

“Oof,” he wiggles excitedly. “How is she in the sack? You a bottom Nicky boy or--” 

Your knuckles crack across his cheekbone and send him stumbling. It’s not the worst you could do but enough to get the message across. Fowler laughs louder than before. 

“I did warn you--” 

“Shhhhitttttttt,” Hansen snarls as he cradles his face. “Hell of a left hook. I thought you were a righty.” 

“I’m a professional, Hansen, so when you address me, it’s not sweet tits or baby or--” 

“Juicy jugs?” He adds. 

You lift your fist to examine your throbbing knuckles and he flinches away, “alright, ma’am. Mistress? Madame? Tell me what you want and I’ll take it like a good boy.” 

“You like to suffer, huh?” Fowler scoffs. 

“Not much else to do in this life,” Hansen retreats and drains what’s left of the liquor. “So, do I get the grand tour or the two of you leave the dungeon in shambles?” 

You shake your head as Fowler wrinkles his brow. He doesn’t answer right away. You feel like you should say something but no better than to take Hansen’s bait. 

“Guess I can take you around,” Fowler utters flatly. 

“I’ll put this away,” you volunteer as you stride forward and cap the decanter. 

“Oh, oh, Nicky, wait,” Hansen smirks as he leers in your direction, “damn, look at that walk. You ever let her step on you?” 

Fowler’s fingers flutter at his side and his nostrils flair, “as I was saying, this way.” 

“No fucking fun,” Hansen grumbles and rubs his reddening cheek, poking out the tick of his tongue at you. “Sweet-- Ma’am, why don’t you do a shot and come join us. Maybe it���ll make us a little less... strangers.” 

“I have work to do.” 

“Work?” Hansen echoes and glances at Fowler, “is that what she calls you?” 

Fowler’s jaw squares. Hansen chuckles and turns to strut up to the other man. He swings his arm back and slaps his ass, giving a squeeze, “relax, I’m having some fun. Not much chance to beat the meat in a convoy full of trigger-happy dudes.” 

You almost laugh at Fowler’s reaction. He recoils and shoves the other man away. He slaps his shoulder and coughs, flabbergasted by the assault. 

“Fuck,” Fowler exclaims. 

“What kinda glute workout you do? Those are tight.” Hansen says. 

“What the...” Fowler mutters then sends you a look. He gestures to you. Better you go. “Hands to yourself.” 

“Fine,” Hansen raises his palms and splays his fingers wide. “Goddamn, what’s a guy gotta do to get off around here?” 

[yunhoszn]

(this is user sourkimchi pls don’t perceive me on main lmao)

i saw another user post this abt this hongjoong fit and it’s been living in my head rent free…

as a fellow asian rave bisexual.. i need a fic for this concept 🫣

(not so) alcohol-free

PAIRING kim hongjoong x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.46k

GENRES fluff?﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, clubbing scene, reader feels self conscious, mentions of alcohol, strangers to lovers?, ummmmm hardly any plot tbh half of the wc is porn, couch sex, little bit of foreplay (vaginal fingering), some marking here and there i think, cowgirl position, missionary, protected sex, allusions to multiple rounds of unprotected sex, not beta’d or proofread bc we rawdog this shit like men

SUMMARY notorious for canceling plans at the last minute, you finally let your friends drag you out for a night at the club. however, a chance encounter with the prettiest man you’ve ever seen has the night turning to something unexpected.

MORE AAAAAAND i finally finished my first request LOLLLLL here u go yves!! i kinda strayed away from the main idea bc i wanted to make it my own, but i hope this meets ur expectations <3

@atzhouse

You had a natural affinity for canceling plans at the last minute. You’re not sure why, especially because you always get an awful case of FOMO every time you do. It’s your own fault that you feel left out when your friends get together without you.

No matter how far in advance you plan for the event, you somehow still find a way to lose your motivation to go. You haven’t properly hung out with your friend group in months, so when they start talking about clubbing tonight, you immediately say yes. 

At first, you think you’ll change your mind an hour later, since it’s only an afternoon’s notice. But when you realize your friends will be here to pick you up in thirty minutes and you’re finishing your makeup, you nearly jump for joy. You successfully stuck it out for once. 

Even as you’re sandwiched between Wooyoung and Mingi in the backseat, San in the drivers’ seat and his girlfriend in the passenger, you’re still shocked that this is your reality. You’re actually dolled up and you’re actually on your way to a club right now. 

“Y/N, do you remember the signal if someone hits on me?”

“Wooyoung, no one’s hitting on you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mingi. It could happen.”

You snort, pulling your skirt down a little. “Woo, we should come up with a signal for if I get hit on.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s more likely to get laid than you are even though she’s bitchless, too.” Mingi nods, adjusting his sunglasses. (You have no idea why he’s wearing sunglasses at 10 PM.)

“Kill your—”

“We’re here!” San announces, effectively putting a pin in any argument that was about to begin. As long as your friendship with the males spanned, he’s always been the mediator. You’ve known the three of them dating all the way back to high school, lumped in the same homeroom your freshman year. The four of you sat in the same general vicinity and got grouped together for a project once and you’ve been inseparable ever since. 

You know you look hot, Wooyoung wolf-whistling at you the moment you started walking towards the car, but you still feel a bit insecure. It probably has everything to do with the fact that you don’t go out much and you’re self-conscious as is. Stepping into the crowded club, a scene that could only be compared to a sardine can, has you shrinking in on yourself. 

Instinctively, you tug on the hem of your skirt to attempt to cover your ass a little more. Then you wrap your arms around your midriff, though your cleavage leaves pretty much nothing to the imagination. You swallow thickly as your trail behind your friends, like a lost puppy with its tail between its legs. 

This is why you always back out of plans. You feel so out of place, like you don’t fit in even when people try to include you. It feels like everyone’s staring at you, waiting for one wrong move so they can point and laugh like you were the butt of some sort of weird joke. You’re ready to go home. 

“Are you okay?” Mingi asks once you’ve settled at an empty high table just a few feet from the dance floor. Through his stupid sunglasses, you can make out the concern on his features. 

“Yeah, I think so,” your lips purse, arms hugging yourself tighter. “I just haven’t been out in so long. I feel… like I shouldn’t be here or something. I’ll be fine. I hope.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, but doesn’t ask any more questions, instead turning to San and his girlfriend who were about to make a trip to the bar. Your poison for the night is simple, a plain margarita that’ll ease your nerves more than anything else. You weren’t much of a beer person, often opting for fruitier, sweeter drinks in comparison to your male counterparts. (When you do go out with them, that is.)

Wooyoung and Mingi fall into a heated discussion about who knows what, leaving you to become a third wheel while you wait for the couple to come back with your drinks. You people-watch to pass the time, chewing on the inside of your lip, your eyes flitting around the club like some kind of guilty criminal. Almost immediately, they land on a guy in the middle of the dance floor. 

He’s hypnotizing, body fluidly moving to the song the DJ’s playing and matching the energy of his friend standing next to him, two girls in front of and facing them. His dark hair falls into his eyes slightly, though parted and styled damn near perfectly. He’s dressed in a black tweed jacket, a white button up left open enough to reveal a couple necklaces resting on his sternum, some ripped jeans, and black boots. But none of that is what caught your attention. 

You’re entranced by his smile, its brightness and how fucking pretty he looks wearing it. You caught the tail-end of something his friend said that made him laugh, and you feel yourself being pulled in deeper and deeper without a single conversation with him. Too bad he seems unavailable. 

“Woah, N/N, might wanna wipe your chin,” Wooyoung teases, a stupid smirk on his face that you want to punch away. “I think you’re drooling a little.”

Mingi howls with laughter, falling onto the table to support himself. He clutches at his stomach as it cramps up from how hard he’s laughing. It wasn’t even that funny. You roll your eyes. 

“Shut up, Wooyo.” 

“Who are you even staring at?” He inquires, resting his elbows on the high top surface, his chin placed on his hands. He blinks at you expectantly, like he’s not letting you off the hook. You avoid his gaze, simultaneously ensuring that you don’t look in the attractive stranger’s general direction either. This all felt so elementary. 

“None of your business.” You murmur, ducking your head. Thankfully, San and his girlfriend return to the table with your drinks perfectly timed, and the topic is dropped completely. 

The first sip of your margarita is damn near heavenly, the alcohol flowing through your system smoothly and calming that storm waging in your mind. It’s not too strong, just enough that another couple drinks would inebriate you entirely. It aids with the anxiety of being in such a packed space, but that feeling of not belonging still sits inside your chest. 

You can’t help but look for the stranger again, who’s no longer on the dance floor. Now he’s on the other side of the club at another high table. His friend is still with him, but the girls from before are nowhere to be found. You focus on his hands and the chunky rings on his fingers, the way he holds his beer bottle, the way his free hand runs through his hair. Your tongue twirls around the straw in your glass out of habit, enthralled by this man who has yet to give you the time of day. 

Except when you glance up to admire his face, you discover that he’s already looking back at you. He’s nodding along to his friend’s words, but his eyes are zeroed in on you, a different kind of smile playing on his lips. Your features fall slightly from being caught red handed, cheeks warming up significantly. You aren’t sure what’s more embarrassing, caught gawking at a stranger by your own friend or by the stranger himself. Truly, the universe was out to get you. 

You down the rest of your margarita and excuse yourself to go to the restroom, needing a second to gather your bearings. Your skin is flushed and you have to hold your cheeks between your palms as you psych yourself up in the mirror. Why should you feel ashamed of thinking someone’s hot? You were only human. Besides, you looked good, too. 

When you exit the restroom, you’re shocked to see the stranger walking out of the men’s restroom at the same time. Your eyes are wide and your body freezes. He gives you that smile from before, ruffling his hair as if this interaction wasn’t difficult enough. 

“I was hoping I’d bump into you,” he says, unabashedly drinking in your figure. “It’s not everyday someone as gorgeous as you crosses my path.”

So he’s a flirt. Noted. 

“I could say the same,” you manage to get out, though your palms are already clamming up. “If fleeting glances across a dance floor count as crossing paths.”

He laughs and you swear it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. A couple girls come into the hallway, and you maneuver so they can go into the women’s restroom. His hand comes to rest on your lower back when your balance wavers slightly. 

“I’m Hongjoong, by the way,” he introduces himself since he’s in such close proximity to you now. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, too distracted by how much prettier he is only inches away from you. “I’d like that.”

Hongjoong leads you to the bar, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist so he doesn’t lose you in the crowd. He orders himself a beer and turns to you to ask what you’re having. While waiting for the bartender to whip up your drinks, he strikes up a conversation. 

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” 

You scratch the back of your neck sheepishly. “Oh yeah, sorry… It’s Y/N.”

He repeats it, like he’s testing out the taste in his mouth. The smile that graces his features afterwards says all you need to know. It has butterflies flapping around rampantly in the pit of your stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of you. He thanks the bartender seconds later when he slides your margarita and his beer bottle across the bar. 

“So, Y/N, what brings you out tonight?” He takes a swig from his bottle, one arm leaning onto the surface of the bar. God, the things you would do to him if given the chance…

“Catching up with my friends,” you answer honestly, baby-sipping your margarita through the straw. “I don’t really go out much, because I’m really bad when it comes to canceling plans at the last minute.”

“Should I consider myself lucky then?” Hongjoong quirks a brow, licking his lower lip. If men had anything, it was the audacity. And this man had the audacity to do everything in his power to lure you in with his good looks and charisma. 

“I’ll have you know that this is a one of a kind, once in a lifetime opportunity,” you play along, stirring the slowly-melting ice cubes around your glass. “You’re a very fortunate man.”

“Yeah?” He laughs again and you think you might faint right here and now. He looks off to the other side of the club and then back at you. “I think Prince Charming over there is looking for you.”

He points at the table where your friends are, and you find that Wooyoung is glancing around in search of something, or someone. Namely you. It’s most likely because you went to the restroom and then never returned. He’ll live. 

“Wooyoung? Nah, he’s just being a good friend. I raised him right,” you turn back to him, sipping at your drink leisurely. “Now where were we? Something about you being lucky?”

“Hwa, I’ll— shit— I’ll have to call you back,” Hongjoong forces out, promptly hanging up so he can focus on putting you in your place. You’re like a damn leech, lips attached to his neck, marking the supple skin like it was your job. Your hands paw at the button of his jeans, your lower half grinding down on his lap. “So fucking impatient. Can’t even wait until I’m off the phone?”

“Want you too bad, Joong,” you pout, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt, his jacket lost somewhere near the front door. He groans when the nickname falls from your mouth. You had no idea how sexy you were.

The two of you were so insatiable, you couldn’t even make it to the bedroom, collapsing on his couch. You hardly had the mind to message your friends to let them know your whereabouts. His hands hold your ass firmly, halting you from any further teasing. You whine, pushing his shirt off of his shoulders. Your nails drag down his toned abdomen, enjoying the way it tenses beneath your touch. After all he’s put you through tonight, you think you at least deserve a bit of payback. Just a bit. 

“Are you too antsy to make it through foreplay?” He coos and presses a quick kiss to your lips, trailing a few along your jawline. Your eyes flutter shut with a hum and a nod. It was true. If he didn’t fuck you soon, you feared you might go insane. 

“I need you inside me already,” you whine, trying to spread your legs and create more friction downstairs. He chuckles at how desperate you are, how touch starved you must be considering you don’t get out much. It fuels his pride knowing he’s the only one to see you like this, to have you like this, for the first time in who knows how long. If he’s successful, maybe he’ll be the only one ever. 

Hongjoong bunches your skirt around your waist, sneaking a hand between your bodies to rub tight, gentle circles into your clothed clit. A blissful sigh escapes you, your forehead dropping to his shoulder. The cocky smile you’ve grown to adore over the course of the night decorates his lips at how quickly he has you falling apart at his fingertips. 

His middle and ring digits push your underwear to the side, sliding down your slit to prod at your entrance. He nips at the base of your throat, working his way up to the spot behind your ear. Your sighs grow into whimpers, squirming around on his lap when he applies pressure to your cunt with the pad of his middle finger. 

“You’re so wet, sweetheart,” he mutters into your skin, shivers running down your spine from the low register he uses. He circles his digit around your hole, not quite giving you what you need. “You weren’t kidding about how bad you wanted me.”

You’re about to quip back, but then he’s inserting a finger and rubbing your clit with his thumb. You gasp, biting down on his collarbone to ground yourself. As much as you would love to sit here and let him finger you until sunrise, you have bigger priorities. “Mmm, Joong, please… Fuck me, please…”

He kisses his teeth, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. He supposes he can satiate your hunger, though he really wanted to take his time with you. “Do you think you can be still while I put the condom on?”

You pull back and nod enthusiastically, sitting on your haunches slightly, fingers locked behind his neck. “I’ll be so good, I promise. I just need you, like, now.”

All he can do is laugh, and you melt into a puddle in his arms. You’ve concluded that smile of his would quite honestly be the death of you. He removes his fingers from your pussy, instead squeezing your hip before helping you onto the couch cushion beside him. You rest on your knees as he unbuttons his jeans and kicks them off, swiftly grabbing his wallet out of his pocket and plucking a condom from it. In the same breath, he’s taking off his underwear and tugging you back on top of him. 

He places the foil packet between his teeth so he can quickly aid you in the discarding of your panties. Now that your cunt is bare, you can feel the heat of his cock and it’s so hypnotic. Your eyes can barely stay open as you watch him tear open the condom packet and roll it on. He’s the perfect thickness and the perfect length, and you feel so special straddling his lap right now. 

Hongjoong kisses you softly, gripping your waist so he can guide you to sit on his cock. The first breach of your entrance has a shaky exhale leaving your lips against his own. You stay like that for a second so you can adjust to the feel of him inside of you, the fullness in your lower half, and overall just how fucking good it feels. He grins when you slowly start bouncing up and down, his dick thrusting in and out under you. 

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” He pecks your cheek, moving downward and reaching behind your back to untie your halter top. It slips off of you with ease, revealing your tits to him. 

“So good, Joong… Feels so good,” you arch into him, whining and moaning every time he brushes that crook in your cunt that has you seeing stars. He peppers kisses all over your chest and sternum, scraping his teeth along the skin of your breast. You whimper, nails sinking into his back and your toes curling. You’re completely aware of what’s going on, but those two margaritas have to be contributing to the pleasure swirling in your abdomen. 

“Yeah? You’re taking me so fucking well,” His eyebrows knit together when you switch your pace, sitting on him fully and letting his cock fill you for a couple seconds. In reality, your knees were starting to ache and get tired, something he recognizes instantly because he was so attentive. 

His hand holds the small of your back and he flips you so you’re in missionary on the couch now without skipping a beat. The change in position allows for a change in angle, his dick dragging against your velvety walls deliciously. Your sounds grow in volume, scratching his back when he pushes one of your knees to your chest. 

You weren’t anticipating to end up here at the end of the night, but you don’t think you could dare complain. While a majority of this night felt like a fever dream, you feel a high that’s never taken over you before. 

Hongjoong’s hair falls into his eyes as he glances down at where your bodies meet, his cock disappearing inside of you and then sliding out with ease. You intertwine your fingers behind his head, pulling him down so you can connect your lips in a fervent, passionate kiss. That familiar summit is within view now, your hand nudging his own to your clit so you can inch closer towards it. 

His thumb swipes side to side on the sensitive bundle of nerves, never once breaking your kiss. There’s so much stimulation going on for you, you’re starting to feel dizzy. In a good way. He’s gentle in a way that’s still rough enough to knock the daylights out of you and the juxtaposition makes the moment all the more enjoyable. 

“‘M so close, Joong,” you arch off the sofa in an attempt to be closer to him, to sandwich yourself between him and the couch. 

His thrusts become faster and more calculated, but he doesn’t break the focus on your clit. His efforts come to fruition and he mumbles words of encouragement for you as you finally reach that boiling point. A strangled moan falls from your mouth and you spread your legs to suck him in further. 

The uncontrollable fluttering of your walls following your climax is almost too much for him and he has to pull out. Your eyes are half lidded, nimble fingers rolling off the condom. He fucks his fist until he’s painting the area between your tits with his cum.

The two of you don’t move right away, regaining your composure. He leans down to kiss you sweetly, and then repeats the action all over your face until you’re a giggly mess. This is probably the best sex you’ve ever had in your life, and part of you doesn’t want to go home— whether that be later or tomorrow morning. 

“Do you have the energy to go again, or should I go grab a warm washcloth to clean you up?” He raises an eyebrow at you, indicating that he’s just joking but he’s totally down if you are. You laugh, running your fingers through his hair. 

“If you give me a minute, I’m all set to do that again,” you start, resting your eyes for a second. “You don’t have to worry about a condom this time. I kinda wanna feel you raw.”

Hongjoong laughs in disbelief, glancing away from you and then letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “What have I gotten myself into…”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 

[riddles-n-games]

Let It Hurt

Pairing: Avery and Jameson Summary: A rewrite of Ch. 54 in the first book. Alternate take post first kiss at the Wayback Cottage where Avery is more angsty and doesn't let Jameson go that easy. Length: Moderate Story Type: Rewrite

ANNOUCEMENT: I'm starting a tag list. If you want to be included, comment down below! Also, to access my TIG master list of fics, here's the link to the expanded view of my blog: riddles-n-games.tumblr.com. Click the icon Hawthorne Vault, that's where you'll find hidden treasure.

A/N: Hi guys! I'm sooo excited to be posting this one. It's been a long time in drafts and I was lost with how to continue it but I just know I really wanted Avery to be hurt but accidentally didn't try hard enough to make Jameson stop kissing her again. This gets deeper in their feelings and so it kinda makes Jameson sound like he's his THL self but still in line with his TIG self as well. Enjoy!

Kissing him felt like fire. He wasn't soft or sweet, the way he had been while washing away the blood and dirt. I didn't need soft or sweet. This was exactly what I needed.

    Maybe I could be what he needed, too. Maybe this didn’t have to be a bad idea. Maybe the complications were worth it.

    He pulled back from the kiss, his lips only an inch away from mine. “I always knew you were special.”

    I felt his breath on my face. I felt every last one of those words. I’d never thought of myself as special. I’d been invisible for so long. Wallpaper. Even after I’d become the biggest story in the world, it had never really felt like anyone was paying attention to me. The real me.

    “We’re so close now,” Jameson murmured. “I can feel it.” There was an energy in his voice, like the buzzing of a neon light. “Someone obviously didn’t want us looking at that tree.”

    What? 

    He went to kiss me again, cupping my cheek in his hand and with my heart sinking, I sadly wasn’t fast enough to turn my head away as his mouth connected with mine. I couldn't stop the lone tear that slid down my face. The shock of his words only started to hit me then and I wished it didn’t hurt so much but it did, even as I subconsciously reciprocated the kiss. 

    For a moment, I tried to will the hurt away, to pretend that this was what it was like to get kissed by a boy that liked me. I hated that his body felt snug against me and how it felt right. We didn’t actually like each other in that way, he just needed me to solve his grandfather’s last mystery and then I’d be discarded. I was no Emily but then, I never would want to be her anyway. 

    She was a life lesson of what not to be; a spoiled little girl who was more trouble than she was worth, got everything she wanted and got away with anything. Even if something was most definitely her fault, somehow everyone else was responsible. Well, the princess fell from the tower at some point. But even though I was tired of being associated with a dead girl that was six feet below the ground in a grave, I was continuously being dealt that card to no avail.

    The biggest irony of all was that I was in the house where her presence was most felt, like the ghost of her was overhead, hovering behind me, following my every move. 

    When he pulled away, I pushed at his chest and turned on my heel, trying to put as much distance between us. Hearing him grunt in surprise was only the tiniest bit satisfying as I made my way back to the room. There was some muffled mumbling that sounded an awful lot like “deserved that” but even so I didn’t care.

    I stopped at the beds and looked from one to the other. Which was hers? As I took in every fine detail of the quilt, my hand subconsciously went to my chest, ghosting over the pattern of the wound. I was in a dead girl’s room. I was almost killed tonight. There had been wood in my chest, there could have been a bullet buried there instead. Jameson could have been hurt or killed; if the bullet had ricocheted, it easily could have hit him. 

    Both of us could have come out of this very differently if it weren’t for those “hadn’t beens”. But Jameson didn’t seem to see it that way. No, because he was busy thinking about a tree. Anger flared inside me at the reminder. I understood he had laser focus but I thought he had room for a little bit of empathy and logic. 

    My mind shot to alertness when I heard nearby shuffling until I realized it was coming from the bathroom and heard him step into the bedroom. I crossed my arms and kept my eyes trained on the bedpost in front of me, not letting myself look up when I knew he was right behind me. He sighed softly. 

    “Heiress?” I didn’t reply. Another sigh. “Look, I know I came off as in-

    “I could’ve been shot.” 

    “Pardon? I didn’t-”

    “I said I could’ve been shot.” I spun around, catching him blink in surprise. “Shot, Jameson. Do you know what that means?” I stared at him sharply for a long moment before he looked aside, something like guilt or shame evident on his face. “I just inherited your family’s stupidly big fortune which made me a target of basically everyone related to you and anyone else in the world that made me their problem. I could have been killed. You could have been. Don’t you get that?”

    He looked up again and tilted his head, giving me a small wry smile. “Don’t worry about me, Heiress. A bullet still wouldn’t stop me.” My jaw dropped; he was still attempting humor. 

     “A-Are you being serious right now? Do you hear yourself?” He stayed silent. “Oren just pulled a chunk of wood out of my chest and if things had worked out a little differently, he could have been pulling out a bullet. Same goes for you. And meanwhile you’re over here thinking about a damn tree? This mystery, us running around acting like we’re Mystery Inc, you figuring out why your grandfather chose me, it’s all meaningless to you if I die. And if you got shot, your family would be out for me, we both know that much. And then what? Not everything is a game, Hawthorne.”

    “Perhaps you’re right but that’s just it, MG. If Emily taught me anything, it’s that everything is a game. Even this.” I was about ready to throttle him. But I withheld and rolled my eyes, laughing anxiously instead. “Jameson, get real. Emily’s dead, I almost died, your grandfather is dead, you’re not one of the heirs, your family hates me, the inheritance is not in the rightful hands, and now someone is after me. This is reality for me and you right now. This isn’t in your head. Life comes with risk, I know, but this isn’t a game.” 

    That elicited a reaction. His jaw got tight and his eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I know that Heiress? Unfortunately, my grandfather raised us treating everything like a damn game from the moment we could talk and think. Don’t pretend you even know the beginning of my life story, we’d be here all day.”

    “And I’m not. But you are acting like what just happened is something to push aside. Newsflash, it can’t be. I can get you pretending that covering me with yourself in the woods, cleaning my wound, our kiss doesn’t matter but not my life or yours being on the line for some stupid mystery. That’s all I ask.” That’s when it hit me. “Why do you act like that? Like you don’t matter?”

    I caught the panic in his eyes when they widened for a brief second as he turned away from me and ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. He’d been doing that a lot. After a long pause he spoke. “Because I’ve done worse. There’s a lot of things from my past that I’m not proud of. Things with Gray, things with Emily, things with Xan and Nash, the old man…” I put a hand on his shoulder. He side-eyed me and smirked knowingly. “If you’re expecting for this to turn into a confession, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” 

    This time I sighed and shook my head. “No, I don’t. I don’t expect you to say anything you’re not comfortable sharing. But Jameson? We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, don’t be so hard on yourself for that.” 

    He turned his head toward me fully and the smirk turned into his signature crooked grin. “Don’t pity me, Heiress. Self loathing is a very good look for me.” But I saw the sadness in his eyes and something about it gave me a hollow feeling, like he’d been holding it in for so long. Yet that didn’t last either. “I know what you’re thinking and contrary to what you believe, I deserve it. Call it my role in the family.” 

    My hand slid from his shoulder and swiped at the mussy hairs stuck to my forehead. Then, I sidestepped him to pace around the room. I wasn’t sure how much more beating around the bush I could take.

    “I thought that was my thing,” he said. I glared at him in passing. “What? Did I say something wrong?”

    “Can you just let me think in silence for a second? I mean, would it kill you to stop making everything a joke?”

    “Hey, this wasn’t ever going to be a pity party, Heiress. Not my style. I’ve been honest about that mu-”

    “Stop it! Just… stop.” I walked over to him and took his hands in mine. “Look at me, Jameson.” He did, surprisingly. I lowered my voice and spoke gently. “I know you’re not okay. I know you’re sad. You have been for a long time. It’s caused you deep pain, I’ve felt that way, too.” I felt him go very still and for a long minute, he was quiet. 

    He exhaled shakily and his eyes were averted. There was the rawness again. “I’m not very good at this, Avery. I’m terrible at hurting.”

    Avery. He said my name; that’s when I knew he meant it. I let go of his hands and cupped his face in mine which made him meet my gaze. I felt like crying just seeing his misery. “I know you are. You can take all the time you need. But you can’t fix the issue by avoiding it.”

    Jameson inhaled sharply and rose to his full height, shaking his head again and went to stand against the wall. “I can’t. I’m sorry but I can’t.” His voice had gone so quiet, I could barely hear him. I followed after him and while I stopped just far enough that he had some space, I still reached an arm out and placed my hand on his back. He flinched slightly but didn’t tell me to move it and I didn’t retract either.

    “Look, I’m sorry that this might be pushing you too far.” He didn’t say anything. “You can be mad at me like I am at you for tonight but in truth, I think you’re just mad at yourself.” His head tilted to my side and I saw his mouth open but I plowed on. “You don’t have to tell me anything about your past. You don’t have to clarify. We can pretend everything else is a game. But not this. You matter Jameson and hate me for telling you that but that’s something you’ll have to eventually admit to yourself. It doesn’t have to be out loud with anyone around. It just has to be you admitting to yourself that you matter because you do.”

    “I-”

    “And I know this sounds worse but there are people who care about you: your brothers, your Nan, your aunt, I think, and you know, I’d even say me. You matter to me, Jameson. I may not know too much about you but I know a bleeding heart when I see one, especially one who hates themselves. I’ve been there myself, Libby too.” That’s when I heard the broken laugh. 

    “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

    I shook my head. “Nope, why do you think I’m still here?” He turned around and leaned on the wall, eyes red and hair covering his right eye but he was smiling that crooked smile. It was raw and edgy but it looked good on him.

    My stomach did a little flip flop. Stop it, now’s not the time. I stepped closer to him, swiping at the forelock but when I pulled my arm back, he gently wrapped his fingers around my wrist and tugged me to him. I shuffled forward a little more till I was practically leaning on him and his other hand went to my hip. The hand that was entwined with his was resting on his chest and it seemed like he was mindlessly rubbing circles into the back of my hand, as if distracting himself. We stayed in silence for a few minutes which seemed to stretch into an hour. Finally, Jameson spoke up.

    “Listen, Heiress, I owe you an-”

    “I forgive you.” 

    He shook his head. “Nuh-uh-uh. Not so fast. You got to give your little speech without interruptions. Now that I am in the mood to talk, you want to interrupt? Tsk-tsk.” I arched an eyebrow at him and he simply winked. His voice lowered, “I’m warning you though, this might be a shitty apology.” Oh, I’m prepared for that. But I didn’t say that out loud, just nodded and waited for him to continue. 

    “Hmmm-ahh. Hah, I’m already failing this. I’m sorry for what happened back there and here. I know it was serious and could’ve been bad news for both of us.” He looked to my wound and brought a thumb over it, air tracing it but hovered so close to my skin that I could practically feel his touch. “I was worried about you, still am.” Then through his teeth I heard him mutter something more softly. It sounded something along the lines of “Maybe-something-always.” but I couldn’t be sure.

    “That wound could have been fatal and I am angry we didn’t spare that but it doesn’t change the fact you’re still here kicking. Avery, if there’s anything I can give you full credit for, it’s your tenacity. I admire that a lot.” I felt a smile tugging at my lips. “About the tree thing, um, that’s how I learned to push away all the bad stuff, by focusing on the next clue. Those Saturday games helped me learn to focus on one thing even when there was something in the back of my mind. And to your final point; you are right. If I got shot or died, Nash would find a way to bring me back just so he could whoop my ass.”

    I smirked at the last bit. “I’m sure he would. I could try to protect you, though.”

    “Heh, you can try. But I wasn’t wrong when I said this was a game.”

    “Jameson…”

    “Hear me out. This is a game, a dangerous one and because of the risks and stakes, this,” he pointed to my wound, “is exactly what can happen. People will be out for you, more now than ever. But, if you still want to find out why my grandfather chose you, then the reward is considered higher than the risk. However, that’s up to you. And I can go back myself because I know these grounds.” He stared at me intently and I knew what he implied with the unspoken words. He wants me safe. The feeling warmed me but turned to ice shards because I knew he still wanted to risk himself.

    I shook my head. “Jameson, you were with me. I don’t know if that person was potentially after you too. I don’t want you to risk yourself.” What if the bullet strikes its mark this time? I leaned my head against his chest but he didn’t let me be that way for long. He cupped the back of my head and made me look up at him.

    “Do you trust me?”

    “No.” He smiled.

    “Good. But do you trust that we’re a good team?” I bit my lip but nodded in the end. “I can take worse risks, Heiress, and I found ways out of shadier spots. I’ll look through the security logs to find a safe path to the tree, I can promise you that much. Also, tell Oren to block that fireplace entrance in your room.” I nodded frantically. Then, he whispered the quietest I ever heard him. “I know you don’t have reason to trust any of us but me and my brothers don’t have anything against you even though Gray was acting like you’re a conwom-,” I snorted while he briefly smirked but quickly turned serious again, “If there’s anything good the old man taught us it was loyalty to each other no matter the circumstance.”

    I nodded again for what felt like the hundredth time. Then, I carefully wrapped my arms around his upper torso and hugged him, burying my head into his shoulder. His went to the small of my back and I felt him rubbing circles into my shirt like earlier. “Thank you, that means a lot. I still think you’re an idiot for wanting to do this but I won’t stop you. I’ll even distract Oren.” 

    “Great, does that mean I can kiss you again?” I pulled away from him immediately and raised an eyebrow in question. He was smiling cheekily and winked. But his eyes held that same intensity when he was focused and were tempting me. Well? Will you? Before I could think twice, I pulled him down by his hoodie strings and pressed my lips to his hard. Jameson had no trouble catching on and he lifted me up by the thighs, letting me wrap my legs around his waist before readjusting his arms to my back. I also curled my arm around his shoulder and clutched the fabric of his hoodie at his shoulder blade. It was a deep kiss but it was sweet. Ok, so a bit sweet isn’t bad. 

    When we parted, I was panting but he wasn’t. What a shocker. Instead, he was observing my face and I could imagine what he saw; the cuts, raw and red, scratches from the bark. Before I could ask anything, he leaned close and pressed soft kisses to each one. I closed my eyes. When he kissed my forehead last and he pulled back, I opened them again to find him smiling softly at me. It made me smile too and I didn’t hesitate to lean forward again to give him a light kiss in thanks. 

    Unfortunately, at that same moment a hushed gasp came from the hall.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed that. See you next time. Also, I'm updating my master list of fics so the last few including this one will be there for you.

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Cheeto, do you think Wild is chaotic enough to try getting a bokoblin into people clothes? If so, what do you think he would try putting them in?

Hi, taddy <3. this was not a writing prompt. My brain took it as one. By Hylia this WILL be a oneshot. I... ya'll can check it out on Ao3 if you want here. No warnings for this fic other than my own stupidity.

“Wild.”

“Twilight.”

“Wild.” Twilight pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did you manage this? Why would you even...” He let out a frustrated sound, unable to put the situation in front of them into words. He said at last, defeated, “Why?”

“Be-cause, Twi-light,” Wild sang back happily. A huge grin split his face. “It wasn't hard. Bokoblins aren't that vicious, you just gotta be fast. And look, now it's harmless as a puppy.”

The unlucky bokoblin that had become Wild's latest victim stood, stiff and startled, in the center of the abandoned monster camp. Like a shivering dog wearing oversized shoes, it very, very carefully raised a knobby leg to inspect the colorful fabric that poofed out around its waist. When the stiff fabric flared up with the movement, fluttering at the edges, the bokoblin yelped and skittered away. The fabric, of course, followed, and the monster screamed out a horrible, frightened shriek that rang in Twilight's ears. Wild cackled. Behind them, the heroes chuckled and murmured at the sight. They’d planned to take out the straggler as they passed through the monster camp before they settled a little way away for the night. Wild, however, had motioned for them to stay back with his signature “I am up to trouble” expression plastered across his face, and he'd even managed to argue Time down with the assurance that this idea was “super tame, just a little fun, I promise no one gets hurt, and I'll deal with the bokoblin myself.” Twilight just wanted to know why his “tame” ideas somehow included a pink tutu shoved over an unsuspecting monster's head. He didn't even know where Wild could have gotten the article of clothing. “Wild...” Twilight began. “Wild, I don't think that no—”

At that moment, the bokoblin tripped over itself and sprawled into the grass. It paid the heroes and their renewed roaring laughter no mind as it crawled away frantically, beating at the puffed tutu around its waist with its fists. With every hit, the fabric sprung back up into its former shape, frightening the monster further. Finally, the bokoblin went limp on the ground, resigned to its fate. Twilight felt something in his heart twist at the sight of its big, wet pleading eyes turned his way. Even if those eyes belonged to a monster. “Wild,” Twilight said more firmly, over the rest of the heroes' laughter. “This’s cruel. Either kill the poor thing, or let it go. You know better than to torment your enemies. You're a hero—behave like one.”

Some of the heroes stifled their laughter or hid it behind their hands, but Wild didn't even try to act ashamed. He delightedly cackled in Twilight's face and flung his hands out in challenge. “You're welcome to try to take it off yourself, Mr. Hero.”

Twilight stared Wild down, willing him with all of his being to back off before they got into a fight in front of the whole Chain. Wild's smirk didn't waver, nor would it, not now that Wind was whispering excitedly to Warrior, and Legend was murmuring in displeasure to Four and Sky, and money was exchanging hands in the group. Even Twilight's glance to Time for aid was met with an amused shrug and a tip of the head that meant your kid, your problem. From the ground, the bokoblin let out a warbling, miserable little plea.

Twilight, gritting his teeth, was the first to blink. “We are going to talk about this later,” he promised Wild. That finally got a reaction out of Wild—his face paled, and his smile dropped just a little—but Twilight ignored it as he turned to the bokoblin on the ground. It was kicking lamely in an attempt to dislodge the tutu, which was muddy and torn now, no longer a bright fluffy pink, from its legs. At Twilight's approach, however, it turned its attention to him, baring its fanged teeth.

“Alla’ya’ll stand back,” Twilight ordered. He rolled up his sleeves. “Wild, we will be having that talk ‘bout your behavior later. I am very disappointed in you.”

The heroes shouted and the bokoblin squalled as Twilight pounced upon it. When he came away a few minutes later with the tutu clutched in his fist—torn directly in half, since the bokoblin wouldn't cooperate with his efforts to pull the offending piece of clothing over its head—the heroes all hooted and hollered triumphantly. The bokoblin, back in its customary loincloth, scrambled away without a backwards glance into the undergrowth.

Twilight was in no mood to celebrate. Wild, at least, now had the decency to wince at the sight of the sluggishly bleeding scratches on Twilight's arms, even as the rest of the heroes cheered. Twilight flung the ruined tutu into Wild's face, then grumpily stomped off towards the nearest river to clean up. 

[sweetheartedbylust]

“Too much” Motley Crue x reader NSFW

💋

It’s a gangbang y’all.Okay, so I really couldn’t control myself so y’all are just about get some absolute filth . I hope i satisfied all the Stan’s . enjoy hoes :3

Also thank you to the person who contributed some ideas for this fic! Love uu.

Somehow tonight you found yourself hanging at the crue’s place. How? Long story . And you also somehow found yourself on the couch with there hands roaming your body. They were like best friends to you at this point so you were taken aback when one by one the nights antics of drugs and drinking catches up with all of you .

“Bet she’s all wet by now huh?” Nikki snickered as his lips were almost near your boobs. “Aren’t you sweetheart?” Tommy said, coming up from your neck littered with hickeys. As your response came out stuttered, cocky grins soon took over all their expressions.

“Haven’t even done anything to you yet and you’re already trembling..” Nikki said pushing his face further into your boobs, sucking and licking until marks were made on you. By now, Vince was down at level with your underwear. “You okay with all this?” Mick lowly said in the back. He was so sweet..honestly made you wonder why he hung around all of them.

“Yeah.. y’all are good” you said as Vince played with the waistband.

“Damnit Vince, hurry it up. I need her.” Tommy said as Vince quickly clapped back

“Shut up Tommy,if anyone’s gonna get this pussy first it’s gonna be me” he smiled as he finally pulled your panties down and handed them off to Nikki for some damn reason.

“Now why in the hell do y’all need those” you said as Nikki sly smile took over. “Oh you know baby..to shut you up or just to keep” . You were only able to process his response for a minute before Vince’s mouth was on your pussy and working. “That’s it, be all good and slutty for Vince” Nikki said.

“Oh she is, nice and wet for us ain’t you whore?” Vince said as he came up for a minute. As you nodded. Desperate for something to be on you. By then Tommy and mick’s pants were nowhere to be seen. And Nikki was busy making his way over to you.

“Come here baby” Nikki cooed as he pulled your head near his lap. “Now put those pretty lips on my fucking cock” and that’s all you needed as by now mick and Tommy were in your hands and Nikki was in your throat.

“That’s it mhm, good fucking slut” nikki groaned as he felt himself falling into his pleasure more. By this point almost everyone in the room was about to fall over the edge. Including you. As by now besides the moans, your desperate muffled pleas to cum were what was being said. “Go on Vince let her cum” mick said looking down to the blond buried in between your legs.

“She’s such a pretty thing, so precious” Tommy said before Nikki interrupted.

“Yet still she’s a dirty slut..aren’t you baby”.and that’s what sent you over the edge. Soon after that..Vince came up and before another man could do anything you were put on top of Nikki with the rest of them surrounding you.

“Now doll face, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna ride this man’s dick, while we all watch and get to cum on your little body. Got it?” And with a nod. You felt Nikki’s dick entering you. And the 3 of the other men stroking themselves

“You needed to be fucked..to be used in the only way you know how. You don’t wanna think do you?” Nikki teased. Thrusting his hips back up to yours with each bounce of your hips.

“Do it for us sweetheart. Give it to us” mick said his hands grabbing your tits. The other two men getting off with their hands. Every now and then getting a touch on them as well.

Tommy was by this point almost in your mouth. As by now Nikki was encouraging him to fuck your throat. And he did.

“Go ahead baby. Open your mouth” he said as you did. He started slowly thrusting his hips into your mouth.

“Good fucking girl, riding me good. You want my cum in you huh?” You couldn’t even make words even if your mouth wasn’t filled by Tommy. Chasing his release.

“I’m gonna fucking cum all in this tight pussy and they’re gonna cum all on your face. You want that don’t you” he teased. Letting you lay down on his chest as he bucked his hips up into you.

“You look so pretty taking it” Tommy said on the brink of his release with another groan or two. You could feel his cum coating your throat as he pulled out of your mouth. And as Nikki took a couple more hard thrusts up into your pussy. You felt the knot in your stomach come undone.

“That’s right.. take it all”. Nikki groaned out. Calming down from his high. His dick not leaving you.

And with a warning from mick and Vince, ropes of cum coated your tits and your face. As they all calmed down and you sat there.

“Are you alright..I know we all kinda went a little far” mick said sitting down for a minute as you nodded and layed back and soon one by one they all just layed down with you, also processing the events that just happened.

The real question was, Are we still friends or something else.

-

[puriteenism]

First draft from a fic I might write once I get the worldbuilding right. Feedback appreciated but pretty please be niceys

It was kinda funny, right? Like they were taking turns, going missing.

Percy lay down on his bed, feeling absolutely nothing. He couldn’t decide which was worse, the all consuming rage at everyone and everything, wanting to tear down Olympus and drain the Fates blood from their bodies, or the numbness. The feeling of… nothing. All anger, happiness, shock completely drained from his body. Barely even aware that he existed, as if the whole world was a huge dream that he didn't belong in, and soon he’d wake up and everything would be normal.

How far would he have to go, for things to be normal? Because things weren’t normal since Tartarus, so he couldn’t go to then. Things weren’t normal since the Battle of Manhattan, so he couldn’t go to then. Normalcy for a demigod wasn’t really an option, was it? If he had to choose he’d settle for just having her back, because no matter how scary things got, if she was around, it would be ok. If he had a nightmare she'd be there to calm it

She’d been missing for two weeks, and search parties couldn’t confirm anything. Nico had told them all she wasn't dead, which was probably the only thing keeping Percy’s rapidly disappearing sanity from unraveling completely, but they still had no idea where the hell she was. They had asked the gods, and all of the main Olympians had said that they didn’t know where she was. He had wanted to kill them, but at least it wasn’t some convoluted godly ploy. Probably. It wasn’t like when he’d gone missing, memory wiped and placed in a random location by Hera. This felt… different somehow. But the idea that she could have left of her own volition, that she could have decided to go without telling anyone? It was scary because it was possible. Tartarus had weighed on her, clearly, it had done that to both of them, but the idea that she could snap and leave? That would break him, more than he already felt broken.

Everyone had been looking for her, and Percy had been too, for days, until he’d been forced back to camp, because he needed to “eat” and “sleep”. But she was out there, somewhere, lost and alone, maybe a victim of some minor god, maybe something else, but she wasn't here. And every night he felt it when he had a nightmare and she wasn’t there, and he had to scream alone.

He shifted slightly on the bed, and saw Piper’s face.

“Percy!” she said, looking slightly scared. “I’ve been calling your name for ages!”

He winced, not wanting to talk to anyone. Everyone wanted to talk to him, because they wanted to make sure he was ok. It wasn’t really working, clearly, and everyone was at a loss. He had outbursts, screamed at them, wanted to die, wanted everyone to die, wanted everyone to drown including him, and then he’d disappear into his cabin, and feel so guilty, and then feel nothing. He hated everyone, but mostly he hated himself.

“Yeah…sorry. I was lost in my thoughts,” he rasped, mostly true. She handed him some water and some food, he drank the water but put the food on the nightstand. The partially broken nightstand, from yesterday.

“You good?” Piper said, mostly out of formality, because he clearly wasn't. He looked underfed, sleep deprived, and there was no light behind his eyes. He didn’t respond, and Piper sat next to him.

“Got some good news?” she said, still looking on edge. “Hecate’s in the big house. She said she has some news on Annabeth,”

Percy shot up like a bullet, and looked at her, a sort of manic mix of excitement and nerves. “Really? What did she say! Did Hecate take her? Is she OK?”

Piper looked slightly shocked by how quickly he moved up, but gave him a small, encouraging smile. She had also been really worried, as Annabeth had been one of her best friends, so she wanted information nearly as much as Percy did.

“She was vague, like gods usually are. She just said we needed everyone. Jason, Leo, me, Hazel, Frank, Reyna and Nico are down at the Big House now, with Chiron and Hecate. This could be another Hera situation. Which would be bad,” said Piper, with a slight grumble. “But at least we’re getting leads,”

“Yeah. Gods sake, this is a nightmare,” said Percy, as Piper helped him up. She’d honestly been really nice the whole way through. They had been pretty good friends already. Annabeth and Jason called her, Percy and Leo “chaos goblins”, and honestly, all of them had been really nice. Percy wanted to apologise for being so angry recently, but the words died in his throat, and they walked in silence to the Big House.

[dbacklot99]

2024 fic roundup game

Can I just create an ask game? said @cheeseplants

Yes!! Thanks to @cheeseplants and anyone else you tagged me.

What fandoms do you write in? Good Omens! Only Good Omens, Forever Good Omens.

How many words have you published in 2024? Ok, including some chapters for an upcoming [redcated] collab, I'm estimating 150k that I actually wrote. Which....isn't much in this incredibly talented fandom BUT was a lot for me.

What is your greatest achievement this year? Getting out there and collaborating!! I talked to artists (y'all are magical and terrifying), I joined the [redacted] project and wrote amazing angst with @gaiaseyes451, @sixbynine-da, @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon, @groovynightstrawberry, and MxThirteen, PLUS more artists, @apocalyptic-scenes & babyrubysoho.

And then kept on writing with a lot of those folks to create some amazing crack - and Lucicrow?

My point is, once you start collaborating, you have no idea where it will take you!

What are your top three fics you’ve written this year? Mirrors (E, WIP but almost finished): Angsty reverse omens AU, but there's a happy ending I PROMISE. With amazing art from @daneecastle and @c0smicdisaster.

Cracked Pepper (E): Utterly absurd birthday crack for @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon. I'm still tickled that I somehow wrote this.

Have We Been Here Before? (E): A one-shot love letter to the fandom (also podfic from the amazing @nosferatini )

What was your biggest pit of despair moment? Hmmm, I got kind of lost in my subplots in the middle of After Heaven. But it worked out and I actually love the ending.

I regularly despair that I will never have enough time to write - or to write as well as I want.

What have you learned? I've gotten some sense of the things I'm ok at. And learning to work on adding descriptions and feelings, not just plot.

Still need to improve my gif game!

What fic did you want to do but never made it off the ground? I have three historical scenes hopping around, but not fully formed yet...

Did you beta any fics? Any favs you want to shout out? Yes!! I can't name all of them - and some aren't published yet (looking at you, @on1occasionfork). But some to throw love at:

Saint of Lost Things (E) by @gaiaseyes451. This would have gone on my year's best list, but I'm sneaking it in here. Post S2 angst and redemption is absolute marvel of story telling!

What Have I Lost (M) Another post2S fic, from MarieCuriosity that I can't wait to see how it comes together!

The Show Must Go On (M) A great 1941 follow-up by @vieux-yeux

Lady of Rheged (E): A West Essex historical AU by @mageofthepeople

Seasons of Nightingales (M): A massive, sweet post2S fic from @nosferatini that is almost done!!!

but i still want more (E): An intense but heartachingly lovely postS2 fic from @cordsycords

Confeitor (M): pure poetry from @adverbian

What three fics have you read this year that you love? Lol, 3!!!

Tethered (E): WIP by MarieCuriosity based on a Gleafer prompt

Someone is Calling Him Shorewards (E): by @harlotofupdog. Gah, if you haven't read it yet, what are you waiting for?

Trial & Error (M) by @fellshish. I love everything postS2 and this one was so original!

Anything ginger_cat wrote

Angel-Centered Therapy (G) I thought this was the perfect counterpoint to its big brother (sister?), Demonology.

Rosae series (E) by UKCalico. Sure, it's incredibly hot, but then hits you with these deep insights into the characters and their lives.

If I loved you less, We Could have Coffee (M): The Chapell Roan fic you didn't know you needed; excited to see what happens next! By @spectrallydistracted

Teach me, both the art from @gahellhimself-blog and the fics from Jeans. A really amazing collaboration!

What ideas are percolating for next year? Going to start off with a couple sequels, and then we'll see where the plot bunnies take us.

Who do you want to thank? @goodomensafterdark for endless support and entertainment. Wibly for maps!! @ireallyneedmoretea & @moderndayklutz for being beta rockstars on [redacted]!

Are you somewhere in this post? Should you be? Go on and play the game!

[coalmonger]

LOTR/The Silmarillion time travel fic ideas and prompts

Not all of these are very serious but I would read a 200 thousand+ word story about them in a heartbeat. Who doesn't love crazy concepts?

Maybe I'll try my hand at making one of these but still, if you use any, tag me!

1 Boromir's no good very bad quest

'Boromir dies as he lived, honorably. Despite what he had fallen too. No man expects to come back from it, not truly. '

Boromir wakes up a week away from Rivendell, a week away from the council meeting. This time, he won't let himself fall, no matter what. Even if he has to sacrifice himself to do it.

2 At least we have each other?

'Merry and Pippin go to sleep a year after the war, Boromir dies a year before then. They all wake far, far in the past.. at least Boromir is here'

Just an older brother trying to keep the kids safe, with vague memories of history classes and a will to survive! The Fëanorians aren't ready for rowdy Hobbits and a rather secretive man. At least the man speaks Sindarin.

3 Birds of a feather

(Can you tell I love this one?)

'Elrond wakes up as a bird, in a place very unlike Imladris. Surprisingly this isn't the worst thing to happen that day.'

Elrond wakes up as a strong winged bird on the shores of Losgar. His situation is confusing and not a little disorienting but he understands quickly when he sees a blaze in the near distance. His instincts let him fly in the air, it's his mind that flies towards the flames rather than away.

The ships are ablaze and a memory strikes him... Amrod is saved that day by a rather mystical bird. The Fëanorians think he's one of Manwë's.

He's going to have a rather interesting time. He'll find a way to unbird himself eventually.

You could add more excitement into the mix if Elrond's kids also got birdtified, the flock will find each other again somehow!

4 Memories of affection

'Maglor doesn't notice when it happens, lost in his own mind once again.

His family does though'

Maglor has spent an eternity alone, he can't hide that even when it's made clear when and where he is. All that pain and suffering can't disappear with a flick of the wrist. Especially when the searing burn on his palm still blazes.

Fëanor fears deeply for his son, it seems almost as if he's falling to the same thing his own mother had. He doesn't know what or who caused this but he WILL find out and WILL help his son.

5 Eternally stuck with you, my friend

'How about side by side with a friend?

Always.'

Classic time loop with Legolas and Gimli. Starting off just before the council meeting. If any member of the fellowship dies they start over, yes including Boromir. Aragorn gets told about the loop in a LOT of rounds, even if he's not told, he almost always notices something is off with Legolas.

Legolas and Gimli could have a bromance or a romance, both would be beautiful!