#someone must've made this post before

[bookwyrminspiration]

Jolene was actually written about Juline Dizzenee dolly parton just misheard the pronunciation and doesn't know the color blue

[elancholia]

oh, I get it, they're called "cell" phones because they have "bars"

[mathmusicreading]

Blog(ger) Shift

I am, so weird and bad about original posting and about reblogging and about saving things on Tumblr and that's why my blog has been mostly inactive or the lurking consumer type. But I don't want my fears about putting myself out there, being seen and known, articulating myself well vs. having been told my whole life I'm too wordy and opinionated vs. not managing to articulate myself well enough to justify being verbose and passionate, etc. to continue to control me so much.

So for my new specific-interest sideblog that I'm not locking, I hope it being themed will help me with making more original posts and reblogging, and I'm publicizing that here to push myself and also welcome interaction.

RIP to my other public specific-interest sideblog and the fandom sideblog I took over for someone that I didn't take further and to my private sideblogs that were meant to make me reblog and save and say stuff because they would be personal and just for me. I still would like to make those happen and reblogging and posting things that matter to me here, and oh my heart for the content ideas I haven't been working on, but they're pipedreams with how I'm (not) managing my life and I keep kicking those cans down the road.

To the person who I developed a real relationship with as a beta but who by now I probably count as having disappeared on with how long it's been and my not coming back to explicitly say I still can't help and don't know when I can, I am so sorry. I'm being a coward languishing in hoping I can tell you soon that I can get back into beta-ing for you and talking, but that's turned into me not talking to you because I'm waiting to be able to say something positive. Hopefully my vaguing here can help push me into talking to you, or at least this is here for you to read if you happen to see it; and I want you to know you absolutely can talk to me, can call me out, and if you're so gracious as to still want to be friends with me and just chat despite my dropping being your beta, I'm here for you and still want to be your friend even if I don't know if I'll have the spoons to be a good one and I know my saying that preemptively isn't apology or justification enough.

Honest assessment, I'm going to curse and say my living situation and work have both become even more of a shitshow, and with those things in mind I can't begin to imagine handling a real project until basically literally a year from now.

Which segues back into the main topic of this post. My goal isn't to have my new sideblog be like an active mainblog nor to abandon this blog—people interested in that blog can and should still interact with me here given how primary vs. secondary blogs on Tumblr work, and in terms of using that blog to help make me be a better Tumblr user, I think I should make certain original posts here and reblog them there as opposed to them being original there. With my mental-emotional and time resources, I want that blog to be "active" for a given definition of active, but really I think I should see my objective as "clear out tabs and likes and photos and lists and notes and drafts, etc. from the last four months" by saving stuff there, as opposed to my goal being the original posts I want to make there, and actually my long-term goal should be to use that momentum to do the same for older digital and physical storage that hasn't been lost or stolen. In my failure to be an interesting person, do I at least manage to be fascinating as a basket-case? Ha. But, also, as expressed above the Read More, the exercise of my danmei/Chinese sideblog is supposed to be a foray into me allowing myself to be an interesting person.

[tizeline]

Presenting: The AU I accidentally created OOPSIE!! 😬😬😬

And yes, I know, it's another Seperation AU, and yes YES, I KNOW, they're a bit overdone at this point, bUT LISTEN!! That's precisely how I ended up in this situation!!!

So there's a lot of Seperation AUs exploring a lot of different scenarios with the turtles being raised, well, seperately. I've seen quite a few of them at this point, and despite whatever the combination is when it comes to turtle + parental figure, I'm sure I'm not the only one who has noticed a pattern of specifically Donnie often being raised by a villain. Which makes sense, he has a tendency to put on this evil-mad-scientist-act in the show, so of course a lot of us want to see what Donnie would actually be like as a proper antagonist. But that just made me think think of the opposite possibility, of Donnie being the singular good guy while his brothers are all bad guys. Mind you, I'm sure SOMEONE must've thought of this concept before me, but I haven't seen it! So here we are!

In this AU (which doesn't have a name so don't ask!) Splinter only managed to yoink Donnie during The Incident™, so he ended up an only child, while Raph, Leo and Mikey were raised by Draxum. I also imagine Draxum being at least a decent dad considering the circumstances, so the kids he raised ended up with pretty similar personalities to what they have in canon.

Because of that we get Hero Donnie who acts all villainous cuz he's a total theaterkid, and Villain Raph, Leo and Mikey who act all heroic cuz they honestly believe they're doing the right thing in literally destroying all of humankind and as a result developed an intense case of main character syndrome.

Anyway here's some references-

I don't know how far I'll explore this AU. I fully intended to just make like one or two posts rambling about the basic concept, but when I was drawing these images my brain went into full Brain Blast mode and I started coming up with a bunch of other ideas so uh... we'll see how this turns out later I guess haha

[plutoswritingplanet]

Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader)

a/n: as promised, here's the full chapter. as a person who's only played skyrim and oblivion, writing for fallout is like throwing a hot dog into an empty corridor (i will not elaborate)

Warnings: Suggestive Themes, Attempted Kidnapping, Medical Malpractice, Cooper is a mean old man with a boner. Takes place before the events of the TV series.

Summary: The Ghoul takes up a bounty that has been gathering dust for quite some time. You, bored out of your mind, decide getting kidnapped might be the perfect way to entertain yourself. Both of you bite off more than you can chew. Cross-Posted on AO3

PT. 2

Copper knows this job will be different, before he even decides to take it up. 

Scribbled with flaky charcoal, your face looks at him from the notice board every time he delivers a bounty. For months now, a humble title of "The Healer" hangs without change, between criminals, raiders, and people who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. 

Cooper hasn't considered going for you, it was never his first choice. The bounty on your head was moderately low, in comparison to your notice board neighbors.  He had other priorities, bigger than a smeared over pretty face, for half his usual reward.

Until one day, as he stomped his way through the dusty floor, his eyes caught onto your wanted poster yet again. 

Well, to be frank, his eyes strayed towards your portrait almost every time he crossed the threshold, but he would never admit it to anyone, let alone himself. Like a constant companion, overlooking all his accomplishments since he decided to stick around the place, your empty gaze followed every transaction, every head delivered onto the table. Some semblance of a routine, he supposed, looking over the board. 

 There, under the regular information, freshly painted numbers stared back at him. A new bounty, significantly bigger than any reward on the board. The red paint was still dripping down the yellowed paper, the addition must've been made quite recently. 

A hefty price. One, that would supply him with enough chems to last for half a year at least. Tempting. Especially now, that he's down to only a couple of vials, his coughing fits becoming longer and closer between. So tempting, in fact, that he tears your wanted poster from the board, finally getting a closer look, a deliberate one. 

Booker gives him a raised eyebrow, all the commentary needed, encapsulated in this simple gesture, and Cooper shoots him a nasty look. There aren't many requirements regarding the job, except one, annoying detail. 

You have to be alive and in good condition. 

Now, alive Cooper could do. Alive is easy. Good condition, however, opened a whole shitbag of problems, which he would be a fool to overlook. Still, the prospect of such money couldn't be ignored. And, he'd be damned to admit it, but he was curious. Who were you? Why haven't you been caught for such a long time? What caused this sudden raise in bounty?

- Did you piss someone off that bad, little lady? - he asks the yellowed paper, and gets no answer, as expected. 

***

The bar is filled with patrons, all tripping over themselves to loose as many caps on cheap alcohol and chems from under the table. It's not as rowdy, as one would expect. This settlement must be one of the few more civilized ones, for the Wasteland's standards at least. Farmers, mechanics, shopkeepers, they all clam together, smelling of smoke, sweat, and alcohol. 

You're here too, hunched over your drink with a sour expression. Your shoulders are slumped, covered by a piece of cloth, that used to be a shawl, but currently looks more like a rag used to wipe down countertops. Despite that, Cooper sees in the way your body is poised, taunt and graceful, that you're neither a naive Vault Dweller, nor a scruffy raider. A skinny scarf is tied around your neck in a fashion, that reminds Cooper of the old westerns he used to star in. 

The sudden influx of memories is neither wanted, nor useful, and he clicks his teeth in annoyance at his own betraying mind.

The Healer, he thinks to himself, making his way through the crowds, until he reaches the side of the bar, one seat from you. Not a glance is spared in his direction. The townsfolk must be used to seeing Ghouls run around the place. Still, when he orders a glass of moonshine, out of the corner of his eye, he can see you peaking at him with curiosity. There's a intelligent glint in your eye, and Cooper feels a shiver of curiosity climbing up his back. He scolds himself for being too old imediately after. 

By all that's holy, you look tired. And not the kind of tired, that sticks to a person living in the Wastelands, no. It's the exhaustion of a shitty day, dragging your eyelids down to flutter against creeping up sleep. The alcohol can't be helping your state, however, it will most definitely help Cooper. He almost feels sorry for you, but if your dumb enough to leave yourself in the open like that, while being hunted, there's nothing more he can do but take advantage. 

Cooper turns his face ever so slightly towards you, looking over your expression for any signs of recognition. He sees none, more than that, there is no emotion at all, not even a blink at his fucked up face. Raising his hand, he touches the rim of his hat in a wordless greeting. 

That finally wrenches some resemblance of a reaction out of you, and with a blink, you tip your glass towards him, before downing its contents. Your cheeks are flushed, lips wet with remnants of moonshine and there's a lock of hair falling out of place, and damn it, Cooper suddenly feels so old.

Ordering drinks while in your current state wasn't the most intelligent thing you could've done. The harsh taste of alcohol burned your throat in a way that was less than pleasant, and for a moment you consider turning to some good old chems for help with... Well everything really. 

It started with Old Lady Sal. 

You've replaced her hip a while back with some scrap metal and a fuckload of reused body parts. Now, every other day she demands you check it out, make sure it's in working order. Which it always is. This isn't your first replaced hip, you know what you're doing.

Then, you had to sit through the insanely uncomfortable marriage offer from Old Lady Sal's grandson, who is not only dumb as a bag of rocks, but also fourteen. 

And to top it all off, suddenly everyone needs you to solve their particular pains of the day. There must be an epidemic of aching heads sweeping through the town, because as soon, as you flee from Old Lady Sal's home, you're being hounded by everyone and their mother, looking to you for help. You were in town for two hours, and your herbs reserve went down to one fucking leaf. 

The Ghoul keeps looking at you from under his hat, and at this point it's gotten from uncomfortable, to straight up creepy. You were not about to pretend this stranger's interest in your particular person didn't unnerve you. Although, thanks to your mother's efforts, and later your own, the town practically worshipped the ground you walked on, the same could not be said about the rest of the Wasteland. 

You had enemies. You had people, who would love to get their hands on you. You were also deeply aware of the bounty placed on your person. Last you checked, it was quite small, but Ghouls don't have it easy out there, and if there's anyone looking like a bounty hunter in this fine establishment, it's the shady guy giving you a shameless once-over. 

So, you place a couple of caps on the counter, and gather yourself best you can. 

Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach was not the best idea, because as soon as you slide off the barstool, your head does a flip. Your balance completely off, you trip over your own feet, already accepting the floor, as your soon-to-be companion. 

That's when something strangely warm wraps itself around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter. The Ghoul smells just about as pleasant as one would expect, but moonshine is a powerful sedative, and instinctually, you lean into the warm embrace. Eyelids flutter, as you look up into the sunken eyes of your savior, and you can see his throat move, as he swallows thickly. 

- Careful now, sweetheart - the voice is low and reminds you of wind whistling through leaves - Gotta keep you in good condition.

Now, if you were completely sober, or at least less drunk, those words would fire an orchestra of alarm bells in your head. Instead, you smile, teeth on full display, as you reach up, to undo a tattered scarf from around your neck. 

- Mmm - you sigh, throwing the piece of cloth across the Ghoul's shoulders - My hero. 

Then, you grab onto his arm, still holding a tight grip around your waist, and lift it up by the sleeve of his coat. Despite your drunken disposition, you duck under the limb gracefully, and shoot the Ghoul a nasty, fully aware smirk. Realization flickers across his face, but before he can move to catch you, a series of body-wrecking coughs shakes his entire frame. 

You hesitate just for a second. The instinct to help is ingrained into your very being, passed down like a mantle from your angel of a mother. But then, self-preservation kicks in, and as the strager reaches into the pocket of his coat, to find his inhaler, you're already out the door, throwing yourself into a mad dash towards your cabin.

You were drunk, not stupid. 

***

The sun has barely had time to rise, when you're rudely awoken by the sound of a fist, pounding desperately on your front door. Hard enough to make the hinges squeak and shake. 

It tears you from your already light sleep, and you scramble to your feet, hastily pulling a shirt over your head, as you make your way towards the entrance. Hand on your pistol, you look out through the small space between two planks, which make up your door. 

It's not hard to understand what is happening. You remember one of the men standing outside your door from the nearby town. Benny or something like that, you were never good at remembering names. Hanging on his arm was another, barely breathing man, who was currently bleeding out right onto your porch. Pete. This one you recognize as a farmer and a hunter. You've treated multiple bites and scratches on him. So did your mother. 

Cursing under your breath, you undid all the makeshift locks with record speed, throwing the door open.

- I'm sorry to bother your so early in the morning Healer - you wince at the title, already making a beeline for the table in your kitchen - Pete and I were just...

Both men follow you closely behind, Pete's boots making a disgusting, sloshing noise. 

- Put him here, face up - you command, throwing a couple of papers to the floor.

- ...Coming back from a night hunt, and this fucking Ghoul was asking around town about you...

- Cut his shirt - another command, thrown over your shoulder, as you begin to rummage through a cabinet filled with chemicals and various herbs, barely registering the words. 

- ...And when we started asking questions back at him, he just shot Peter, right then and there...

You pluck a couple of twisted, dried herbs into your trusty, stone mortar, spitting into it, to gather some moisture. Throwing a semi-clean rag at the man, your voice cuts through his rambling.

- Put pressure on it.

There is no exit wound, and you almost sigh with annoyance at the prospect of fishing out a bullet. It had to be done, however, putting your sleep depriation and a building headache aside, you scoop out some of the herbal paste with your fingers, before pushing past the man.

- Hold his legs down - you mutter, taking a blink-and-you-miss-it moment to check Pete's temperature.

- ...Thankfully, he didn't kill Pete on the spot, so I brought him here straight away.

Pete flinches on the table, as you apply the paste to the wound. That's about as big of a reaction he's capable of, given the amount of blood he just spilled onto your porch. Another thing to clean up, after you take care of the table. What a way to start a fucking day. You can see his eyes follow your movements, barely conscious, but still alive. Sweat beads and gathers at his brow, and you reach out with a clean rag, to dab it off his skin.

Then, as if coming out of a stupor, your eyebrows scrunch together. The story of this faithful encounter finally registering in your brain. 

- A man was asking about me? - you ask, despite already knowing the answer. 

- Well, kinda. A Ghoul. 

You knew which Ghoul, it was not difficult to piece together. 

- And he didn't kill Pete, just injured him - you can feel another headache brewing just behind your eyes, as the sheer stupidity of the man in front of you finally comes to the surface.

They led him to you. 

Three, steady knocks to your door, smug and confident, interrupt the conversation, and deep down you can see the future of every person present in this cabin. As if you've developed some magical powers. 

Stilling your suddenly trembing hands, you settle the mortar back on the table. Thenyou instruct the man to keep pressure once more. Covering yourself with a robe you got as payment for stitching up a sliced finger, you make your way to the door. Fabric flows around your feet, shuffling like the wings of a moth. 

Your eyes flicker to the side, where, placed against a wall, stands a small end table. Under it, you've hidden a rather large kitchen knife, and for a second you debate, whether going for it now would be the best course of action. Call it dumb optimism, but deep down, you pray this is some big misunderstanding, and you'll be allowed to go back to your patient, preferably sooner than later. 

There's no need to bother with a gun, no time too. Pete is bleeding out faster than a stuck pig, and you were not one to leave your customers unsatisfied. Or, in this particular line of work, dead. 

The door opens with a slam. There's a small indent in the wooden wall, where the door handle has hit the surface.  The cabin is slowly entering the state of ruin, although, some places are more taken care of than others. Still, it has a roof, a semi intact entrance and even a window with actual glass in it. Quite the luxury in the Wastelands. 

Cooper didn't know what to expect, not really. Seeing you for the first time gave him a mixture of varying feelings, as well as a rather uncomfortable throbbing in the nether regions. Who could blame him, really? Your wanted poster gave you no favors, and although he was able to recognize you almost immediately, he still felt slightly short of breath.

He scolds himself for getting distracted by his thoughts, and as your eyes lock down on him, he lifts the barrel of his gun, touching the rim of his hat. Your eyes shift like little sparkling gems onto the weapon, before your jaw locks.

- Salutations Ma'am - his voice is rough from lack of use, the southern twang even more prominent, than usual. - I believe our introduction was cut short.

Yellowed teeth flash in a mirthless smirk, and then his expression tightens.

Cooper is used to people reacting, let's say, negatively towards him. Fear is the most common, and he can't blame the masses, he really can't. Disgust, as well, happens quite often. But as he looks over your feverish gaze, he can't really see either one of the emotions. 

No, what you give him is an annoyed roll of your eyes, and he's surprised to say, it bothers him more than he'd be comfortable admitting. He's a goddamned bounty hunter, a ruthless one at that, and a fucking Ghoul. Fuck you mean, you're annoyed by his presence?

- Look - you're already turning away from him, shooting a look towards your kitchen, where he can see a leg twitch in a spasm on top of your table - I ain't got time for whatever this is - your hands wave around in Cooper's general direction. - You'll have to wait your turn.

- Ah, well, I'm not the patient kind.

A squeak of surprise leaves you, as the Ghoul pushes past your body, entering your house gun first, murder clear in his deep set eyes. His steps take him through your living room, dangerously close to your kitchen. You know exactly, what's going to happen, and your arms shoot out on instinct. His body is unnaturally warm, even through layers of clothing, as you wrap yourself around his waist, tugging him back with all your might.

 He looks down on you, more bothered by the sudden contact, than the fact you're trying to stop him. It gives you a small leverage, and you push him back a couple of steps, settling yourself between the entrance to the kitchen, and the bounty hunter, raising your hands and getting ready to fight. 

- I don't have time for this kinda bullshit. Git. - Cooper snarls at you, his gun-free hand coming up to grab at your hair.

Before you have time to react, five fingers twist hard into your roots, and you stifle a scream, as the Ghoul pushes you off of him. On instinct, your hands come up to tug against his wrist, nails digging into the leathery skin. He lets you go with a hiss, and you use that second, to throw yourself towards the end-table. 

Your fingers find the handle with a practiced ease. Then, your body twists like a radioactive viper, and all Cooper sees is a flash of metal. The blade is rusty and chipped, but it could still do some damage. Especially now, that it's pressed against Cooper's jugular, the dull, cold presence halting all his movements. Your eyebrows raise in small recognition at the thin fabric tied around his neck. The scarf. Your mouth goes dry.

- Everything okay back there? - Benny asks from the kitchen, you can hear his approaching footsteps.

- All's well, kee pressure on the wound - your voice is tight with nerves, but the man obeys. 

Cooper watches your face carefully, his gun tucked neatly into the meat of your stomach, ready to fire, should the situation escalate. You can feel it, pressed right into the hollow space under your spleen, a good place to be shot, if you could even say that. You're dealing with a professional, apparently. 

- We seem to have a bit of a conundrum on our hands, little lady - Cooper drawls, voice bordering on a whisper, his eyes follow the way your tongue darts out to lick your chapped lips. 

- I have a patient, he needs help - you explain in an even tone, breathing shallow - After that, I'll deal with you.

Despite being at a loosing position, you refuse to back down, your eyes glued to the Ghoul in front of you. You're bracing yourself for the imminent pain, should he decide shooting you would be easier, but it never comes. Instead, the barrel of the gun presses further into your flesh, before lightly retracting. The cold metal is dragged up, across the expanse of your stomach. You bite the inside of your cheek, and surpress a shiver, when it travels between the swell of your breast, and settles into the dip of your collarbones. 

You swallow thickly, Cooper's eyes catching the movements of your trachea like a hungry vulture. The tip of the gun touches the underside of your chin, pushing your head to one side, then the other, as if the bounty hunter is taking inventory in a butcher's shop. Once he's had his fill, he lifts the gun completely, raising his hands as a peace offering.

- Git - you whisper back at him, and a flash of something rushes through his mangled expression. 

You take a step back, chest rising in falling rapidly, blade still in front of you, just in case. Then another step, and the bounty hunter dusts off his coat, before sitting down on a stool in your cluttered living room. You don't like the way he looks at you, eyes shining from under his hat, as he occupies your space like it belongs to him. Long legs apread in front of him, and you try very hard not to sneak a peak between them. Finally, you cross the entrance to the kitchen, and the knife is tucked under the leather belt of your pants. 

A sigh, a roll of shoulders, and you're off.

Cooper watches with curiosity, as you immediately start to work on the poor bastard stuck on your table. Your back is taunt, hands bloodied but steady, as you lean down to take the metal bullet out of the wound. The herbal paste you've provided earlier has dried up, and is currently working wonders for the bleeding, while you reach inside with not-so-sterile pliers. 

- Hold him down - he hears you say, as the legs on the table start to twitch again. 

Finally, a metallic sound of the bullet hitting a dish is heard, and you stand up, making your way towards the cabinet filled with chems. There is a grace to your movements Cooper wasn't expecting. Reminds him of dancers, ballet ones. 

Back in the day, his ex-wife would drag him to all those ballet shows, ones that made him feel stupid and uncultured. He swallows around the memory, willing it to die down, as you shoot him a cautious look over your shoulders. 

He wiggles his gun at you lightly, a reminder, that all this is happening because of his good humor. You scoff. 

Pete starts screaming as soon, as you begin to dress the wound properly. Chemical smell fills the air, and although Cooper lacks the nose to feel it, his eyes water all the same. You seem to be unbothered, years of doing this exact job must've hardened your senses. Finally, it's done. There's nothing more you can do for the man, and you wipe your hand on your forehead, leaving a large smear of red.

- He'll be fine - you mutter towards the other man in the kitchen - He needs rest, and a loads of it too. 

A couple of small bottles and dried herbs land onto a checkered cloth, and you tie it closed, like a small care package. 

- Dress his wounds twice a day - you press the package into the other man's hands while he helps his partner off the table - Good luck. 

Cooper glares at the men, as they stagger out the front door. They don't seem to pay him any mind. Well, the shot one definitely doesn't, he can barely walk on his own. His friend is too preoccupied with keeping him on his arm, to even acknowledge that this whole situation was orchestrated by Cooper himself. Or perhaps, he's to stupid to connect the dots. It's hard to tell these days. 

The door closes with a click, and Cooper stands up from his stool, sauntering over to the kitchen. 

You're currently trying to wash blood off of your hands, which are stained crimson almost up to your elbows. It goes about as well as expected, and as you dry your arms with a rag, there's still a pinkish stain to your skin. 

The table is a mess, blood and herbs seeping into the wooden planks which make up the surface. Cooper leans against the doorframe, as he watches you splash some chemicals onto the wood. It bubbles up in a disgusting mixture of red, green and yellow. You let it sizzle for a moment, before taking that same bowl of water you've been using to clean up, and dumping it all onto the table. The mixture flows down to the floor, the residing surface looking much cleaner. 

- Now, as much as I'd love to sit around and play house with you, honey - Cooper starts, and has to clear his throat, when you look up at him wordlessly, blood on your face and fire in your eyes - I have a bounty to collect.

Sighing, you push your hair back from your forehead, exhaustion, which is synonymous with living in the Wastelands seeping off of you like a tidal wave. 

- Do you have a name? - you ask, reaching for a leather bag sitting on one of the chairs. 

- I do - he says, and you roll your eyes at the deliberate lack of information his answer has given you. 

You mutter something that sounds scarily close to "asshole", and begin to chuck a couple of vials into the bag, then some herbs, then a water canteen. It's like you're ready to move out at any time, and a sneaking suspicion arises in Cooper's mind. This isn't the first time you're in this situation, if your calm demeanor is anything to go by. Suspicious, highly so, and as you turn around to face him, Cooper raises his hand ever so slightly. 

Your eyes fall onto the bundle of rope in his grip, eyebrow raising in annoyance. 

- You serious? 

- As a funeral, sweetheart - he sways the bundle lighty, his other hand pointing the gun at your abdoment - Now, are you going to be good, and come over here? Or should I come over there and make it unpleasant for us both?

- You're already making it unpleasant - you mutter, but cross the kitchen towards him, raising your hands, palms up. 

- Wait. 

Confusion hits you, when the Ghoul reaches into his pocket, producing a small piece of torn cloth. Your entire body goes still, as he grabs onto your chin, cold metal of his gun digging into your cheek, the barrel settling into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. Then, despite your best efforts at freeing yourself from his grip, he brings the cloth to his lips, wetting the fabric with his tongue. 

The bloody smear on your forehead is wiped down rather roughly, and you twist in place like an impatient toddler, when Cooper leans his head back, to look at his handywork. You shiver with disgust, at the feeling of his drying saliva on your skin, and as soon, as he lets you go, you begin to rub at your forehead with the sleeve of your robe. 

- Good condition - he rasps, and if looks could kill, he'd be six feet under.

He gives you a nasty smirk, settling his gun down for just a moment, and grabbing your wrists together, so he can tie them up. Which is all the time you need to make a decision, and kick out your knee, nailing him right in the crotch. He doubles over, cursing loudly, hands shooting out to grab you, but all he catches is your tattered robe, which you slide out of easily. 

Fater than he would've anticipated, you grab at your bag, and bolt to the back of the kitchen, where he watches you jump over the table and all but slide out of the house through an open window. It's like a choreographed dance, the way you move out of his grasp. When he reaches the window himself, there's no sight of you, other than the rustling of tree branches somewhere in the woods behind your cabin. 

- Fucking women. - Cooper whistles.

He can't deny the shiver of excitement running down his back, as he secures the hat over his eyes.  If that's how you want to play, he would oblidge. It's been far too long since he could actually enjoy a more challenging bounty. Cooper slowly walks out of your cabin, looking over all the little trinkets you've gathered inside. Then, almost lazily, he lifts the robe you've left him to his nose. He feels nothing, of course, but he has quite a vivid imagination. Vivid enough to supply him with a memory of a scent from his past life. Lavender, he'd bet you smell like lavender. 

Your tracks are deep and visible across the ground, and so, the hunt begins. 

[jinxthequeergirl]

omg yay!! so glad i can request you some billy cuz i love him sooo much… yeah, and also: if you don't want to write this it’s okay, but then please reply to this post somehow because damn otherwise i end up waiting like a hachiko😔

how about bill and reader had a deal but eventually their interactions developed into some kind of relationship (?). i don't know, in short bill became very attached to the reader but something happened and they had a fight which cancelled the deal.

time passed and bill still couldn't forget reader. and now, already being in a mental hospital, bill is sitting in general therapy in a circle with everyone else, with an empty look at the floor "i don't want to be here, they made me" in his eyes, and then suddenly one of the therapists says: "so, i want to introduce you to a new patient: y/n!"

bill, hearing this name, is shocked because how did this even happen, and the reader just smiled

ps english is not my first language i'm writing this by translation sorry for mistakes, i love you💘

The Multi-Dimensional break up

Bill chiper x Interdemensinal being!reader

Here, take this while i work on Part 8!

Picture bill however you want to in this I left him vague for a reason (I personally go for the unconventional twink cipher)

Warning: none, it's short

~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~

Sure, Ford was interesting enough, but YOU were far more interesting. He remembered helping Ford with the portal, watching him fo test runs only to pull you out.

Ford was instantly fascinated with you, running tests interagating you, you happily answered, glad to talk to someone new, and you gladly accepted when offered to help with the portal reaserch.

That's when he'd introduce you to Bill, his other interdimensinal friend helping him. You two bonded quickly, and you shared how similar your dimensions were as well as how vastly different they were.

What he liked most of all about you was how he could talk to you about things others usually didn't get, not his parents in his home dimension, not ford...no one.

"You were only a child... That must've been hard." You admit to him after he opened up to you on a whim about his past, about seeing past his dimensions, about what he did...who he lost.

"It...it's was! But look at me now! Look at all the power I have because of it!" You gave him a sideways look.

"But are you happy?..." He stared at you.

No one's ever asked him that before.

"I understand what you did...I was given a similar chance to yours...but before I made my choice I stopped to think about everyone I held dear to me, I thought about everyone else and who they held dear to themselves...and most of all I thought about myself...would this really make me happy in the long run? If I lost everything, would I care if it was replaced with what I'm being offered?"

Bill stared at you once again. A strange sinking feeling he'd only ever felt once before in his life. "What did you do?"

"Well...to put it simply my home dimension is thriving! They all lived and still lived happily...in the end, I knew if I was willing to do something like that, I could risk it all just like that, then I was the one who needed to leave."

You weren't exactly the type of being he surrounded himself with. You were....well adjusted, to say the least. He kept you around.

He grew attached to you, basically at the hip. He liked that for some reason in a sea of crazy, horrific, and terrifying things you were very calm and collected. Though you did end up sharing his affinity for all those things, giving him a good evil idea in the most calm manner he'd ever seen.

But like before in his home dimension, he began to crave more. Working with you and Ford to get the portal up and running only made him desire it tenfold. He had a vision and with you in it.

So, who better to ask for help bleed into Fords reality and take over then you. Though he didn't tell you the whole plan or truth as to what the plan held in store for everyone.

"Would it make you happy?" He felt his eye twitch. Not a question he thought you'd ask.

"If it does?" You finally looked up at him from what you were fiddling with. "If you came to me right now asking me to do this and you were a million percent positive, it would make you happy... I would say ok."

"Really? Why?"

"You should have some happiness to if I could help achieve that I would love nothing more."

"Then it's a deal."

You shook his hand.

He beamed at you, worried a moment that you would give him a long speech about doing the right thing. True that you enjoyed the bits of chaos he would sprinkle about and even partake in them. But you also had a bit of a moral Compass. It never seemed to stop you from having fun with him, and to him it didn't seem like it stopped him from his fun when you thought other wise.

But it did. You not partaking with him felt wrong. You'd become his right hand in everything. Usually, if you rode a high horse, suddenly he was too.

However, you were hell-bent on helping him with this, that was until you realized what he was doing and trying to do to Ford.

You stopped helping him immediately.

"You lied to me! You didn't tell me this was your plan! Another dimension you can treat, like your home dimension?" Bill was taken aback for a moment. And hurt that you would compare what he was doing now to what he did in the past.

"Are you seriously going to do this? To Ford!?"

"Hey! We had a deal remember!"

"You purposely left information out you tricked me!"

Bill realized he'd never seen you angry in the years he'd gotten to know you. Seeing you now almost made him hesitate, almost.

"The deal is off! And I'm going to tell Ford about your plan."

"Not so fast!" You froze in place your whole body feeling over and turning to gold. "Bill wait! Wait! Don't do this! We can talk this out!"

"I don't think so...you and no one else in any dimension is going to stop me!"

"Bill Cipher, I swear I will -"

He winced, waiting for the rest of your sentence that never came, your face permanently frozen in distorted anger. This is what he wanted, right? He wanted out of the nightmare dimension. He wanted complete and utter chaos in the real world. He was sure of it only a moment ago.

Then why did he feel so bad.

He stared at your face solid gold and gleaming now.

"Are you happy?"

He shook your voice from his head.

"You'll see y/n! I'm going to Rule this dimension and you'll regret not joining me!" He said trying to gain back his confidence.

He could.

Not when you where looking at him like that.

So he possessed Fords body, tossed you threw the still finicky portal and forgot about you.

Tried to forget about you.

Every day, something new would come up, and he would still be ready to tell you, still wake up, ready to spend his time with you.

Who knew how lonely he really was until Ford dragged you out of that portal all those years ago.

He thought about you now most of all, staring up at the ceiling in his interdemensinal cell.

He wondered if he would have beaten the Pines family if you were by his side. He wandered if he would have even gone through with weirdmagedon if you were by his side.

He truly just missed you. He regretted throwing you away like you weren't everything to him. He hoped you would eventually forgive him if you ever crossed paths or if you were even unfrozen.

He avoided bringing you up now that he was in mandatory therapy. Anytime he felt he might mention you, he paused and steered the conversation away as best he could.

"Welcome, everyone. Let's settle down."

Bill sighed, slumping into his chair. Bracing himself for yet another group therapy session.

"Before we get started, I'd like to welcome a new member to the group." He rolled his eye while the other members erupted in chatter.

"Settle down, everyone, please welcome y/n."

Bill felt his heart stop, and the air leave his lungs.

Low and behold you scanned the room looking for an open seat, you sat across from him locking eyes with him for a moment.

"I like your scar" You mouthed.

He stared at you jaw on the floor.

"How?" He asked all you did was smile before the mediators spoke up again.

"Alright, everyone, let's begin."

[jesswritesthat]

Sakusa Kiyoomi: Part of the Plan

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~0.8k, fluff

• You didn’t think helping a friend would ever lead you to be in demand from elite athlete Sakusa Kiyoomi, yet here you are.

Warnings: Post time skip spoilers.

>>>>——————————>

It was a soothing walk home you'd taken that evening, enjoying the fresh fragrance of the season when a brief interaction outside your apartment building caused you tilt your head and slow you pace.

"Oh here they are now!"

Your neighbour giddily shouted, pointing in your direction as evidence to the tall man beside her who then turned around. You recognised the athlete immediately, even without his signature teams' clothing draping his toned form.

"You made this meal plan?" It was direct, straight to the point, with recognisable scribbles held out before you.

It was apart of the plan you'd tailored for Atsumu, covering various nutritional aspects to help maintain energy and physique during the upcoming volleyball season. That damn blonde must've left it lying around at practice. You’ll get him back next time you hang out together but right now you held the prickly attention of his teammate.

"Oh yeah, I thought I was missing a page." Gratefully, you accepted the parchment with a polite smile whilst Sakusa shoved his hands in his pockets and spoke observantly through his mask.

"It's detailed, you know what you're doing."

"It's nothing overly professional but it does the job."

"It does more than that, I remember you always used to help out the volleyball team in middle school." He'd offhandedly mentioned, tilting his head slightly as if reminiscing - he was right, you were a year below and had volunteered to help the sports clubs when you could but you didn't think it'd be memorable.

Let alone to someone as antisocial and incredible as him, a top 5 Ace of the nation in Itachiyama.

"You recognise me?"

"You used a Hello Kitty plaster for my graze when first aid had run out of proper ones." This was said with what you assumed to be a disgruntled look since you couldn't see beyond his mask.

"It was a proper plaster. Just with more personality." You quipped back rather proudly, the player furrowing his brows slightly and responding with a hint of bemusement (you'd hoped).

"You said something similar back then, and I still disagree."

It was a slightly palpable silence that remained after that, unsure of how to react to Sakusa as a person rather than someone you'd considered out of reach quite yet. Thus he continued with an awkward clearing of his throat.

"Anyway, I was looking for you."

"To return my meal plan?" You instantly questioned, as if trying to aid the situation but he only shook his head before elaborating.

"To ask if you'd personalise one for me."

"Don't you have professionals for that?"

As a MSBY Black Jackals player, you’d expected them to have every amenity available to them in order to maximise performance - so for him to request such expertise from you was rather perplexing.

"I'm a picky eater." It wasn't as forward as answers you'd previously received, suggesting he was a little embarrassed about this disclosure.

"You're really gonna make this easy for me if I accept, aren’t you?" You retorted sarcastically, a raised brow sent his way but he remained unphased.

"I thought you may be looking to do this as a career, become a sport nutritionist?"

"Well I hadn't really thought that far ahead..."

Sakusa studied you thoughtfully, as if you were a new concept to his world that he didn’t understand yet, but he certainly wanted to try.

"Well as I progress, people will be interested in what I'm doing unfortunately. But it'll bring business your way."

It was considerate of him (even if he was repulsed by the idea of attention) to think about how the arrangement would benefit you also, it is an aspiring nutritions dream offer after all. Yet he presented no pressure, waiting patiently even if your casual shrug and acknowledgment wasn’t a conclusive decision.

"I mean as a Division 1 player, you're quite popular already."

"Think about it. Here's my number, give me a call if you change your mind." Sakusa gave you a slip with his contact information, burying his hands deep in his pockets once more and diverted his gaze away from you. "Or even if you don't."

"Thank you Sakusa, it was nice talking to you again."

The Spiker didn't respond verbally, instead nodding softly accompanied by a wave of his hand when walking away.

Your neighbour rejoined your side from where she’d retreated to, previously leaning against the building entrance steps with a joyous skip toward you and girly squeal to match.

"Did you just get Sakusa Kiyoomis' number?!"

"Yeah. For work."

"He came looking for you, he literally asked Miya-san for your address to return your plan himself. Then MSBYs' top spiker Sakusa Kiyoomi gave you his personal number." She reiterated again, adding emphasis and dramatics to the statement as if you'd failed to realise the weight of it.

"..." You glared discreetly, your neighbour far too enthused by such a thing, which was translated through your deadpan tone. "You're too excited about this."

"I don't think you're excited enough about this."

You ran your thumb over his elegant writing as you looked at the slip once again, a gentle smile subconsciously working its way to your lips at the thought.

“Maybe you’re right…”

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

A/N: I have more… if you want…?

[valalice]

thinking about pirate!sevika who's mind is flashing sequenced thoughts of the events during a horrific storm. lightning bolts being sent from the heavens from zeus himself, the speed at which they hit into the crashing waves and their fluorescent brightness had sevika wide eyed and speechless (a first in a long time) thinking about what sin she had done this time to cause this as she tried to steer the ship with her crew on it to safety.

she knew her ship could take this storm if she just surpassed the it, but the rain is falling heavy. she's soak and the deck of the ship is starting to fill with water from the rain and the unstableness of waves. a particular wave crashes brutally into the ship causing it to tip over. the pirate tries to maintain her post, but she quickly lost her grip on the wheel and started to slide down. she was luckily enough to catch her grasp on something as so she wouldn't fall into the water. and for a moment she was able to observe her ship, her baby. it was a wreck.

the last thing she remembers is seeing a crew member perched up somewhere on the other side of the ship calling for help. it was a girl she had taken in a some odd months ago, reluctantly, but nonetheless since her crew became repeatable for being a misfit group on nontraditional pirates. sevika calls out to the girl, telling her to stay put as she figures out a way to get over to her, but before she can begin to work her way over somehow a something crashes into, causing her to fall beneath the face of the ocean.

when her eyes flicker beneath her eyelids, groaning out at the . . . brightness? and she's not on the ocean, her body is flat against something, is it sand? what the hell? she's sure she died, it's about damn time. but, there's no way she made it to see the pearly gates. her eyes snap open, her body springing up, gasping for air. still catching her breath, she looks around. she's on a beach. how'd she get on beach, when she steering her ship she couldn't see any land within the distance. there's a caw above her, lifting her head to view the bird flying in the blue clear sky. she begins to curse at it to tell it to shut the fuck up, until there's a harsh pound of her head. raising her hand to her forehead just to feel something slimy. the hell? she thinks, taking the mystery object off her forehead into her hand. it's seaweed.

now she's beyond curious, she's furious. her ship gets fuck, she loses her crew, falls into the ocean only to mysteriously end up on a beach, there's a loud ass bird flying around her, and there's fucking seaweed on her forehead, she hates seaweed. she grips it in her hand, snapping her head around her shoulders to look around. there's a slap in the water that makes her nearly break her neck trying to catch a glimpse of it. she stands, watching the water ripple. the pirate stays standing still, eyes trained on the water, till it's been a few minutes of nothing, must've been a fish. then suddenly something, or someone, or creature? breaks the seal of the water, it's further towards the horizon, so sevika has to squint her eyes, but they quickly become wide when she realizes the leading figure is a woman . . . with a fish's tail?

[literatureloverx]

what are your thoughts on fyodor and after care? 🤔

Oh, I have some VERY specific headcanons about this one. ❤️ But firstly, I took it upon myself to write a full scenario on this one too.

This will be more of a continuation of another post of mine, THE FIRST NIGHT.

Enjoy.

Mdni, ideal type! fem!reader, yandere behaviour, unhealthy behaviour, misogyny(?), strong n*fw implications and descriptions, fluff, not proof-read.

Aftercare with Fyodor

Just after his call to Ivan, your eyes started to flutter shut. You could barely keep them open, and the sight was both amusing and intoxicating for him.

Oh, how he loved this moment.

For someone who rarely lives in the moment, this one felt like a fresh breeze. His own eyes half-lidded, he gently brushed your sticky hair away from your forehead and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

"Don't fall asleep..."

"Mhhh..."

A soft hum in response made him chuckle.

A few moments later, the sound of Ivan preparing your bath drifted through the door separating the bedchamber from the bathroom. Ivan must've used the second door, ensuring your full privacy.

As intended.

He gazes at your nearly perfectly marked skin, his cold fingers tracing soft patterns on it. Feeling weak himself, he reaches for the carafe on the nightstand and fills a glass to drink. As his gaze returns to you, he can't help but smile fondly.

You're asleep, looking flushed, with the golden light of the candles illuminating the shared kingsize bed.

His gaze roams over your face, your messy hair, flushed cheeks, your body, and your neck, marked with his bites and hickeys—evidence of your shared intimacy. He hums softly, gently tracing his thumb over your soft cheeks.

He continues to trace the shapes of his marks on your skin before pulling you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tight, and whispering in a low, shaky voice,

"My darling..."

You lie there motionless, sleeping like a princess from a fairytale. He watches you for a while, a slight, possessive smile dancing on his lips as he lets his eyes roam over your body, the marks he's left on your skin, claiming you again and again.

He gently runs his fingers through your hair, letting them ghost over the soft skin of your face, gradually losing himself in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

You huff in your sleep, the bedsheets soaked with your shared liquid once more.

He sighs at the sight and sound, a shudder of desire running through his body, though he's exhausted and cannot go at it, again.

While the sexual intimacy is new to him, it feels almost too familiar and natural with you. He doesn't believe he will ever deny this pleasure again, enraptured by the way you look after their shared moments. He's obsessed with how you called out his name, how intoxicated yet overwhelmed you appeared.

It was clear to him that your pleasure was crucial to his own.

He gently runs his fingers over the dampness on the sheets, letting out an amused huff as he pulls you a bit closer, nuzzling his face against yours in a soft, intimate gesture.

You nuzzle against him in your sleep.

He can't help but let out a soft, fond chuckle at your innocent gesture in such a wrecked state. He runs his fingers through your hair and lets his lips ghost over your forehead before whispering against your skin,

"You're so adorable, мышка..."

After about half an hour, you open your eyes.

He's gently watching you, still holding you close, his arms wrapped around you. His eyes meet yours the moment you open them.

The corners of his lips quirk up into a small, fond smile as he gently runs his fingers through your hair, tracing your skin.

"Welcome back, dear..."

You let out a soft sigh. "I think I'm pretty much the thing people call 'sore' now... We can't have sex for a week, I'm afraid."

The way you cite amusing facts from seemingly other people's experiences is utterly adorable to him.

He huffs out a soft laugh, amused that you're still able to speak in coherent sentences despite the state you were just in. A small, fond smile plays on his lips as he caresses your hair, his touch careful and tender.

"Yes... I'm aware of that, love. My apologies." He lets out a low chuckle.

"You might have to suffer through a week of celibacy because of me."

"Celibacy?" you pout. "I can't accept that now, can I? I still want to kiss you."

He huffs out another soft laugh at the sight of your pout, and the corners of his lips quirk up into an amused smile.

"Darling, you're in no condition for kissing, or walking for that matter."

You nod. "We can still kiss, my love..."

He gently hums, his purple eyes watching you as he gives the idea serious thought. His fingers continue to run through your hair, and he huffs out another low chuckle. Amusement dances in his eyes as he speaks,

"A kiss, hm?"

He tilts your face up slightly, gazing into your eyes as he whispers in a low, slightly teasing voice, "Just a single kiss, love?"

"I would give you as many kisses as you want."

"Oh, really now?"

He raises an eyebrow, amused, the corners of his lips twisting into a small, fond smirk. He lets his thumb gently run over your lower lip before whispering again, his voice low and teasing, "How about five kisses, then?"

"500 instead?" you reply cutely.

An amused huff escapes his lips, taken aback by your cutesy, adorable demand. A wider smirk plays around his lips now.

"Fifty hundred, now?"

He hums in contemplation as his fingers absently play with your hair, the smirk remaining on his lips as he says,

"Hm, a bit selfish now, are we?"

You groan softly.

"I'm afraid you owe me a bathtub full of bubbles and my husband inside it. I will give you kisses there."

He huffs out another amused laugh, his lips stretching into a smirk as he whispers in a lower, slightly seductive voice,

"A bathtub full of bubbles, hm? And all of my attention and affection focused on you?"

"One could say that..." you respond innocently.

A low, amused hum rumbles in his chest, and desire flickers in his eyes as he suddenly rolls you onto your back, now towering over you. His fingers gently caress your face as he whispers, his eyes never leaving yours,

"So demanding..."

"Am I bothering you?" you ask, with a gentle expression.

He chuckles at your question and the tone in which you ask it. Trapping you with his body, he gently runs his thumb over your skin, leaning in closer, his lips only a few centimeters away from yours. He whispers in a dark, seductive voice,

"Oh, love, my darling one, you're not bothering me at all. Quite the opposite.

I don't mind pampering you a bit, not at all."

You kiss him softly.

He smiles softly, his expression uncharacteristically gentle, showing the aftereffects of your shared intimacy.

"Our bathtub is prepared, моя любовь."

You smile softly, your fingers caressing his hair away from his deep, violet eyes, now even more captivating.

"Uhm... I... I can walk, l'm sure."

Oh, he knows you can't. But he's eager to see you try.

"Of course, love."

He moves away from your body, stabilizing himself as his head seems to spin a little, given his anemic and fragile state.

To your surprise, he's not bothered to stand there fully naked and vulnerable, giving you strength to face your own vulnerable state.

You gently sit up, feeling a mild ache in your stomach and groin. It's bearable but not comfortable. You slowly and carefully stand, trying not to worry him, even though it's almost impossible to hide anything from him.

The ache is manageable, but your wobbly legs give way, and you fall back onto the bed, sitting up.

That hurt.

"B-baby..." your eyes well up, not from the ache but from discomfort. "I-it's not as comfortable as l imagined..."

Concern immediately takes over as he looks at you, his arm still wrapped around you, supporting you.

It was expected, yet he can't help the pang of guilt at your discomfort. Those new feelings might as well bother his health, at this point.

"It's from earlier, my love. The soreness from earlier."

You hug him, seeking comfort. And you continue to hug him. "Can you help me walk?"

He gently hums in affirmation, wrapping his arms around you more tightly, his hands placed on the back of your legs.

"Of course... up we go. Careful, now..."

He lifts you gently, pressing your body against his, and slowly exits the bedroom with you in his arms, heading towards the bathroom and carefully placing you into the bathtub.

"Thank you, my love." You smile softly.

He responds with a gentle hum and a warm smile, his eyes once more studying your face, taking in the blissful, slightly dazed expression.

"It's no problem at all, darling. Just relax now. The warm water should help with the soreness."

"And you're coming in too, right?" you ask.

He gives you a cheeky smirk and huffs out a small, amused laugh, climbing in.

"Well, naturally, my love. How else am I supposed to properly help you relax, hm?"

You giggle, making space for him so you can sit on his lap.

He huffs out a small chuckle and settles comfortably, stretching his legs properly in the tub to accommodate you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling your body closer to his chest. A pleased, content hum escapes his lips as he looks down at you, his chin resting on your head.

“Mhhhh~” you relax against his chest. “How long will our honeymoon be, my love? I know you can’t truly relax and quit working.”

He lets out a small sigh, almost frustrated by the question. His hands gently run over your arm as he holds you close. A soft hum escapes his lips in contemplation before he replies, his voice low and deep.

“Honestly, my dear… I’m not sure. I have a lot on my plate at the moment, and I don’t know when I’ll have time for a full-on vacation.”

Well, actually, he knows. And he knows that you know too. But you’re so considerate and soft to not dwell on it further.

“I see…” you say softly. “It’s alright, my love. I’ll study cooking when you’re not home to make you wonderful dishes.”

He hums in acknowledgment at your words and gently cups your face with one hand, a smile playing around his lips as he lifts your head to make you look at him.

“That does sound very good, darling. You know, I’m quite looking forward to having you prepare meals for me…”

You smile softly.

He returns the smile and gently pulls you closer against his chest again, burying his face in your hair and letting out an appreciative hum, his hands gently running over your skin as he holds you close.

“My perfect little housewife.”

“Also... I wanted to ask you if you could buy me some acrylic paint and brushes?” you ask softly.

He quirks an eyebrow in mild surprise at your question, a slightly amused, curious hum escaping his lips. He gently lifts his head to look at you again.

“Acrylic paint and brushes, hm? Whatever are you going to do with those, my love?”

“I would like to paint when you’re not here... I can’t just cook and read all day, right? I need to do something else sometimes,” you say, then your eyes widen. “My love, I could cut new roses every month from our garden, right?”

He huffs out a small laugh and lifts a hand to gently pat your head, his eyes roaming your face, taking in your wide-eyed yet innocent, sweet expression. A fond, affectionate smile stretches his lips apart.

“I don’t mind, love. You may buy as many painting supplies as you like.” His hand gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before he continues, his smile never wavering. “And yes, you may cut roses from our garden if you like, darling.”

You kiss his cheek. “Thank you…! Can I also go shopping with my friends?”

A slight hum of contemplation escapes his lips as he ponders your question. There’s a hint of something akin to possessiveness in his eyes, and his hands suddenly tighten their grip on you.

“Shopping with your friends... are you going to see Nikolai, by any chance?”

“Nikolai? I don’t believe so... I haven’t seen him since our engagement ceremony.”

He nods in acknowledgment, his eyes never leaving your face as he studies your expression closely. His gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips. There is something almost menacing about the way his eyes glimmer as he holds you against him, his grip still firmly locked on you.

“Good. You may go shopping with your other friends.”

You tilt your head.

“Don’t tell me... you’re not jealous, right?”

He lets out another chuckle, his gaze once more roaming over your face, and there’s an amused, dark undertone in his voice when he replies, his eyes never once leaving yours.

“Of course I’m not, darling. Why ever would you think I am?”

He knows that you know, but it is almost a childish impulse on his part that he cannot seem to grasp. It is frustrating and meaningless. But it is there.

“Because of Nikolai?”

He hums slightly again, still holding you close against his chest. He suddenly lets out a cold, low chuckle, and his eyes lock with yours again as he replies, his voice dropping a notch.

“And why, my darling, would Nikolai of all people make me jealous?”

“Because he is a man?”

He lets out a sound that could be called a growl in response to your question, his hands gripping you more tightly now, the almost possessive manner not going unnoticed by you as he speaks.

“I trust you, my love, don’t I?”

A gentle yet sharp edge to his thick Russian accent cannot go unnoticed. Oh, how you love his edging, manipulative way of delivery.

“You do, as I trust you,” you say softly, kissing his hand, resting on your chest.

He hums, pleased, and the grip of his hands relaxes as his eyes roam over your face. There is a slight hint of affection in his gaze as you kiss his hand, and he gently tucks another strand of hair behind your ear, his hand then gently cupping your cheek.

“Such a sweet and loyal little darling I have…”

You hum cutely, resting against his chest with closed eyes.

He hums in an almost satisfied, content manner, tightening his grip around you now. His hands once more secure you in his lap, against his chest. He can’t help but breath in your scent, the faint smell of shampoo and the natural scent of your own skin.

“And you’re all mine. For me alone.”

“I’m all yours, my love.”

“All mine, darling,” he mumbles against your skin, his lips gently brushing over your neck as he breathes his words into your skin. His arms pull you even closer, as if trying to merge with you, make you one.

“I’m very happy that we’re living here... it’s so beautiful.”

One of his hands slowly runs through your hair, gently stroking the long, soft strands. He sighs in agreement, his lips still gently roaming your neck, leaving a wet trail over your skin as he murmurs against you.

“Indeed, it’s quite scenic, isn’t it?” He hums again before suddenly sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your neck, leaving a possessive mark. “And so peaceful and quiet, as well…”

You look at him cutely, innocently.

“I’m still wondering how you managed to capture my taste so well? I believe I only talked about a huge land, a mansion with a private library, and a lake. But how could you find the exact estate I had always dreamt of?” you ask with a loving, affectionate gaze.

His eyes study your expression after your question, almost intently, and a hint of a smirk plays around his lips. After a few seconds of contemplative silence, he sighs heavily, his gaze never leaving your face as he speaks, his fingers gently playing with a strand of your hair.

“Let’s just say I have my ways, my love.” He leans down to your ear, his voice dropping a notch, growing slightly menacing once more, as he mumbles to you in a low whisper. “After all, I will do anything to please you, darling.”

Your jaw drops with realisation.

“Did you... hack my phone? Or even my... Pinterest account?”

He lets out a slight chuckle as your jaw drops, and he gently lifts your chin with his hand, running his thumb over your plush lower lip. When you mention the possible invasion of your privacy, his smirk only widens, and his dark voice drops even lower, a definite hint of menace in it as he speaks to you in a low whisper, still gently caressing your lip with his thumb.

“That would only be one of the many, many possibilities, my love.”

You giggle loudly, kissing him.

“That is such a beautiful way to invade my privacy.”

He accepts your kiss and hums slightly against your lips when you call it a beautiful invasion of your privacy. When he pulls back, there’s a satisfied smirk on his lips and he gently cups your face with his hands, his fingers brushing over your cheeks as he speaks, one eyebrow elegantly quirked up.

“You seem quite unbothered by the thought of being spied on, my love.”

“Why would I? I have nothing to hide from you. I’m all yours and you’re welcome to spy on me anytime you wish.”

“That is good. You belong to me, and I want to have access to every little part of you. After all, no one is allowed to touch you but me.”

“I love you.”

He hums in response to your words, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he mumbles his reply, his lips still lingering on your skin as he speaks, his voice low and deep, yet soft.

“I love you too, my darling.”

His eyes show the ignited dark flame deep inside his very soul, the meaning behind it an enigma. His voice dripping with intensity, he continues speaking with an almost chilling voice.

“More than anything.”

He pulls back slightly to gaze into your eyes, his expression softening. His fingers continue to gently caress your cheeks, his touch tender as he keeps you close.

He then closes his eyes, relishing your caresses like a cat being petted, a slight, satisfied hum escaping his lips as he lets out a deep sigh. He stays like this for a moment, eyes closed and basking in your touch, before he speaks again, his voice more than a low murmur.

"You're spoiling me now, my love."

“I will do so until the day I die.”

He is quiet for a second.

He huffs out a quiet chuckle and suddenly opens his eyes again, a smug, slight smirk playing around his lips as he gazes down at you. His hands gently, tenderly caress your cheeks as he lets out a deep hum, his voice dropping several notches as he speaks to you, a hint of possessiveness seeping back into it.

You're quite the naive little darling sometimes, aren’t you?

“My love..."

Fyodor leaned down to your ear, gently tugging at your earlobe with his teeth as he murmured,

"…I will never let you die."

You’re an intelligent person, indeed. Intelligent enough to see beyond the surface of his words, intelligent enough to see his true self behind his cold and calculating demeanour.

But even you didn't realize that he was speaking literally, this time. Maybe because you’re in such a rush of positive emotions, so that you’re blinded by them? Who knows.

You knew of his immortality through his ability, Crime and Punishment, but also understood your own mortality. Yet, he would indeed find a way to ensure you lived as long as he did. You smiled, unaware of the full meaning behind his words.

"My love is immortal too, so l will always be by your side."

His eyes held a strange, twisted humor as he listened to you, fully aware of your ignorance to his true intentions.

He found your naivety endearing and his plans even more so. His hands gently cupped your face again as he murmured with a hint of sinister amusement,

"Yes, darling, you will. You will remain at my side forever."

You smiled and kissed him softly once more.

He hummed against your lips, deepening the kiss as his teeth grazed your lower lip. For a while, only the soft smacking of your lips was heard. He broke the kiss and pulled back, his eyes fixed on you as his deep voice lowered.

"It seems I'm becoming quite addicted to you, my dear."

"I'm sure not nearly as addicted as I am."

A quiet, amused chuckle escaped him as you called yourself addicted to him.

His eyes roamed over your face with a hint of something almost sinister, his voice dropping to a low, cocky murmur.

"Such devotion, such loyalty..."

He leaned down, letting his lips brush over the skin of your neck, his breath hot against you as he murmured, makes me want to own every single part of you."

"You own me, my love. Body and soul."

You glanced around, admiring the expansive land from the grand window.

The blue hour cast a beautiful light over the vast garden, and the sea shimmered below the estate.

He followed your gaze to the window, tightening his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest. His voice, mixed with contentment, resonated deeply.

"That's right. And I will claim every last corner of you. Every last inch."

"The weeping willows look so beautiful by our private lake... you saw them on my Pinterest board, didn't you? I'm sure I never talked about my love for them."

He observed the landscape, a dark glint in his eyes as he looked back at you, his amused smirk returning.

"Indeed, it seems I did catch every little detail from your board, my love. Nothing escaped me, darling."

"You even included the swans!"

He chuckled again, pleased that his attention to detail was appreciated.

His arms tightened around you as he spoke, his deep voice full of pride.

"Of course I did, my love. All those little details you cherish, every single one of them, I want you to have. I will make sure, darling, that you want for nothing and have everything your heart desires."

Your eyes are filled with deepest adoration. Your eyes are speaking of an immortal love, as you’re unable to speak about anything.

You need some time to be able to form proper sentences again.

"I wonder... you told me there's another part of our land. Does that mean we have horses too?"

He grinned widely, the dark gleam in his eyes intensifying as he heard you mention horses. He pulled you closer, his arms like steel around you, his voice dripping with smugness.

"You're quite observant, my love. Indeed, we do."

Your jaw dropped, and you hugged him tightly with affection.

"I can't believe it... we have horses?!"

His smirk widened at your reaction.

Your innocent surprise was endearing.

He laughed softly, caressing your back as he replied, his deep voice full of possessiveness. "You're making me nearly forget how innocent, naive, and utterly adorable you are, my love. But yes, we have horses."

"I don't believe I can bear it if you make me love you even more..." you whispered, your eyes brimming with tears as he fulfilled your childhood dreams.

He gently lifted your chin, his eyes fixed on yours, filled with devotion, possessiveness, and a wicked, amused satisfaction. His arm stayed firm around you as he murmured, "And yet, here you are, falling for me even more with every passing second, my love."

You hugged him tightly, placing numerous kisses on his face.

He chuckled quietly, enjoying your affection. His arms held you tight as he let himself be showered with kisses.

"You're being quite the affectionate little darling now, my love."

"You're making me so happy... how could I not?"

He tightened his embrace, his voice dripping with satisfaction and posses-sion. "And I will keep making you happy, my love. I want to keep you in this state, making you cling to me, making you love me more every time I give you what you desire."

"Our future children will love living here too, I'm sure."

His gaze took on a sinister quality as he imagined your future children running around the estate, living a life of luxury and comfort. He smirked, his voice dripping with smugness and possessiveness. "And our little heirs will grow up healthy, happy, and spoiled."

You looked at him cutely. "Don't you think... that since we have such a beautiful home, shouldn't we make as many children as possible?"

He studied your face, his smirk widening into an amused smile as he looked at you.

"We’ll see about that, my dear.”

“I’ll do my best to to be a good mother..”

Your soft muttering while gazing out of the window snaps him out of his own thought process. You were just so…ethereal.

Motherhood would fit you perfectly.

His eyes roam over your body, gazing intently on your stomach.

You, full with his child.

His own.

Just like you. Something, that utterly belongs to him.

A picture perfect family, the way god intended it to be.

He hummed in agreement, not missing the opportunity to tease you, his soft and adorable wife.

"You really are just made to be mine, aren't you? Mine to pleasure, to own..”

He whispers.

“…and to breed."

You’re shouting with a cute pout, your cheeks flushed.

“F-Fyodor!”

He laughed softly, your cuteness fueling his possessive streak. A smirk spread across his lips as he responded, his voice a deep, possessive murmur.

You’re his indeed.

In any possible, imaginable way.

[answer2jeff]

break-up, make-up.

song : post break-up sex

warnings : fem!reader, porn with some plot, smut, unprotected piv, make-up sex, lip being needy, mentions of alcohol and smoking (tobacco), reader has scumbag friends, sad pathetic banging, intentional lowercase. (lip and reader are 18.)

word count: 3,707

authors note: this is only like my 2nd time writing smut.......

your abdomen felt cold pressed against the marble of your bathroom counter. pulling at the skin of your face, running your fingers through your messy hair, and picking yourself apart in the mirror that doubled as a medicine cabinet. you didn't feel like yourself. you swung the cabinet open, reaching for a hard candy eyeshadow pallet, a black eye pencil so old the label had rubbed off, and a mauve-brownish lip liner.

your phone buzzed against your pocket. you groaned, dropping your products into the sink before snatching it from the depths of your jeans.

773-642-3719: party @ ashleys 2night. u coming? 2:36pm.

it must've been karina. ever since you gave her your number on your break during your waitressing shift at patsy's, she'd been trying to drag you out of the house. you couldn't blame her. mopey from your breakup, picking up as many hours as possible, spending your free time collecting coupons for shopping sprees you'd never go on to spend money you didn't have, she was sick of you ruining the atmosphere everywhere you went.

or, wherever you didn't go, more accurately.

"he's just a guy. just—go fuck someone else! who cares if he's a dick just like him. focus on the task at hand: getting laid," she told you, licking strawberry jam from the tip of her middle finger.

"i'm just gonna miss him more," you sighed, watching the clock tick as your 15 minutes of what was supposed to be relaxing free time, was going to waste.

"*** ******** is not some kind of sex god, okay? the sex was good. you can find good sex anywhere."

"whatever."

he was more than that. he was more than the sex. he was the kisses in the early mornings where you'd wake up with him in your sheets. he was the whispers of 'you're so beautiful,' and 'i love you,' whenever you doubted yourself. he was the shitty jokes and late night walks, splitting cigarettes and dabbling in gossip. he was your best friend.

but he was also the hands that slammed your bedroom door. he was also the alcohol on his breath. he was also the words that told you to 'get your shit together.' he was also the broken promises he could never keep.

but he was more than anything karina saw him as.

i'll be there :) 2:38pm.

773-642-3719: bring some1 cute with u! 2:40pm.

you stared blankly at her text.

👍 2:42pm.

bring someone with me? who the hell would i bring? daniel's working tonight. and he's not cute. well—he's not ugly, but...no. stop. just drop it. you don't need to bring a guy with you. jesus. you don't need anyone. relax.

i'm here. 12:37am.

you knocked about 3 times before a lanky, raven haired boy with puke all over his title fight t-shirt swung the door open. you looked past his shoulder to see a group of familiar faces behind him.

"please tell me that's not h—" a short blonde girl groaned before a redhead, eliza, butted in.

"there she is!" she yelled, calling karina over.

the warm glow of the living room complimented the post-punk rock that rang through the poster filled walls of ashley's house. you were met with waves from your friends. karina beamed and quickly made her way over to the front door to greet you. her chunky sandals boomed against the hardwood floor, her red solo cup nearly falling out of her hand.

"you made it!" she smiled, taking your hand and dragging you into the makeshift frat house, slamming the front door behind you. the atmosphere was uncomfortably warm. probably due to everyone sweating their asses off from drunkenly dancing and grinding on each other.

"uh, yeah—i'm kinda late. sorry."

"fashionably late," she corrected you as you followed her through dozens of other girls and into the kitchen.

you analyzed the space. you knew a couple people here, either from work or highschool, since it was the summer after senior graduation, but there were plenty of girls and guys you'd never seen in your life. for the first time in months, meeting new people was sickening. immediately reaching for the bottle of tito's to help ease your mind, eliza stopped you. she furrowed her strawberry blonde eyebrows at you, shaking her head.

"uh-uh. you're the designated driver, sweetie. we can't have you drunk, too!"

your mouth gaped open in disbelief. were you seriously dragged here just to play babysitter?

"but there's plenty else to do," karina peaked her head out of the kitchen and eyeing a couple of her friends that resided on the couch, beer bottles in hand. you couldn't help but turn your head to look, too.

"mikey's got weed," she pointed to a shirtless brunette, "and i think destiny brought some—fuckin, i don't know, xanax to cool your nerves."

you nodded, lips pulled tight in a painfully neutral expression that read 'okay' and 'fuck you i hope you break every bone in your body and live your life as a spiritless vegetable,' at the same time. your arms were crossed against your chest, your body pretty much caving in at the amount of sheer embarrassment that coursed through you.

"since you're, y'know, kinda losing it," eliza wiped the corner of her mouth where whiskey-soda had been dripping from it, pointing her finger at you. her messy red nail polish on healthy long nails taunted you.

you felt like a wad of pink chewing gum: slammed between teeth and tongue just to be spit out and drenched in spit. but you weren't useless enough to be thrown away. just stuck under a table for some gross, unsanitary bitch to pick it up again and stick it right back in her gossipy mouth. cursing yourself for being here, you stormed out of the kitchen and made your way toward the back porch.

if you left, you'd be a prude. but if you stayed and drank, kissing strangers and making up stories filled with little white lies, you'd be deemed a slut for the rest of the summer. your last choice was to stick around, being that annoying girl who smoked cigarettes outside of the party to freak people out.

and so, you did. you hung around outside, watching people come in and out. occasionally, someone would stop to ask if you were alright, if you wanted a drink, or just someone to talk to. you politely declined every time. almost like you were waiting for some other opportunity to spring up in front of you.

"hey," a voice behind you rasped.

it startled you. it was painfully familiar. so much it made your heart drop to your empty stomach. you turned yourself around, eyes met with blue orbs that stared directly into you.

there he was. lip. your lip.

except he wasn't yours. not here. not now. possibly not ever.

"oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me, gallagher."

your hands grabbed onto the wooden railing of the porch steps. hoisting yourself up, you brushed off any dirt that smeared onto your dark blue jeans. your eyes were glued to the ground as you tried to swiftly move past him the moment you could stand up.

"no, c'mon—" he pleaded, rolling his eyes and following you back into the house. he hadn't had a sip of booze. for once, his mind was completely in the clear.

eliza and karina sat on the kitchen counter, their shoulders pressed together while shared a beer bottle, possibly their 6th or 7th of the night. you seriously wondered what they even talked about. they didn't have much in common other than the fact that they both liked reeking havoc on innocent people. and you.

"did one of you fucking invite him?" you spat, stepping just a foot away from the two of them snatching the beer bottle from karina's hand, you held it tightly in your fist, your fingertips turning pink at the brute force.

"lip? yeah, i did! wait, did you guys break up, or something?" eliza laughed, twirling a red curl around her finger while she gave an obnoxious wave to lip as he stood behind you. he bit the inside of his cheek, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets and balled into enraged fists.

your jaw had been nailed to the floor at this point. karina looked down at the ground in shame. she didn't care about your 'healing' or 'getting laid.' all she cared about was stirring shit. it was such a middle school stunt for a 19 year old girl to pull. finally snapping, you slammed the beer bottle onto the ground, watching it shatter into a million pieces. clenching your teeth, you looked back up to see the disturbed expressions on your 'friends' faces. they weren't allowed to make this decision for you. you would decide if and when you were ready to act like a normal fucking person around lip.

a boyfriend wasn't the only thing you lost. you lost a friend, a piece of yourself.

hot tears pricked at your waterline. you spun back around and darted towards the front door. shoving through people, your hands grabbing onto their arms and not-so-gently moving them out of your path. you could feel lip's footsteps behind you, his pathetic whines calling out for your name; calling out for his friend ex-girlfriend.

"hey, would you just fucking talk to me? please?"

you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and letting the salty tears that streamed down your face smudge your mascara before turning to face him. the angry knit of his brows from earlier was gone. his face relaxed, a breath of relief escaping his mouth when he could finally just look at you. he took in the sight of your tears, your swollen lips, your shoulders that tensed under your jacket, the way your jaw trembled when you cried.

"i don't wanna talk," you muttered as you shook your head, "i just—i don't wanna talk here. can we go upstairs, or something?"

you stared back, half of your bottom lip barred behind your teeth, analyzing every inch of him. the way his hair that ended at the middle of his ear had grown a bit too thick, the line that formed between his chin and his lower lip when he frowned, his short eyebrows, how prominent his philtrum was, and his blue eyes that caught your attention the day you met in 10th grade chemistry. you missed the way the top row of his small teeth would beam whenever he laughed.

"yeah," lip nodded, "we don't have to be down here, alright? c'mon," he reached for your hand, tilting his head as he tried to stare into you.

you worried about forgetting the feeling of his hands gently caressing your face, rubbing your back when he held you close, twirling your hair around his fingers, when his palms would indent the plush of your thighs, or when he'd grab onto your waist when you kissed him.

there was no way you'd ever forget now.

"jesus, lip—" you huffed through open-mouthed kisses, your fingertips digging into the flesh of his shoulders. the cold wall against your warm back made you shiver once he tore your shirt off from over your head, along with the jacket he zipped down and gently slipped it off from your arms as he trailed kisses from your jawline to your collarbones.

in the most needy, starved way possible, you tugged at his cotton t-shirt. almost as if he'd read your mind, despite him being on a completely different planet, he pulled away from your mouth and peeled his grey t-shirt off with the same hands that rubbed those fucking circles against your hips the way he always did when he kissed you again.

some things just never changed.

your fingertips pressed against his bare abdomen until they made their way up to his chest. you missed seeing that little triangle tattoo that tyler gave him in the school bathroom. kissing it, tracing your fingernails around the perimeter, occasionally biting and soothing the mark with your lips.

"fuck this stupid party," he scoffed, his hand getting a hold of your chin and tilting your head back up to face him. you looked into him through your lashes, lids low with desire. the look in your eyes ruined him.

"yeah. fuck it."

you glanced at his lips and back into his eyes, just for him to smash his mouth into yours again. it was a mess of teeth and tongue while you entangled your hands in his hair.

"shit—" lip detached himself from your mouth to fill his lungs with hair that smelled like your perfume and sex.

his hands cradled your face so gently it was like you'd break if he ever dared to let go. your hands moved over the groves of his arms and up to his shoulders over and over again, the feeling of soft, supple skin never getting old.

"c'mere, pretty girl," lip breathed against your ear, his hand wrapping your neck gently.

he desperately began sucking and biting the tender skin, coming back to comfort it with pecks and blows of fast, cool air. tuffs of curly blonde hair tickled your jawline every time. his veiny hands roamed down the sides of your torso, never traveling up, until you tried removing your bra yourself. lip shook his head, removing his hands from your hips and reaching behind you to unclip the uncomfortable fabric while you clung to his shoulders for support.

"lip—" you protested, slowly growing impatient.

"i got it, baby," he whispered, kissing your shoulder before carefully slipping the straps over your shoulders and off of your body. that pet name hadn't bounced off of his tongue and rang through your ears in weeks.

once he tossed the bra to the floor, your body relaxed as lip backed away just an inch or two to admire you. he smiled, teeth and all. maybe he really did miss you. your hands rested on his shoulders, slowly backing him up towards the bed of the guest room.

funny. you swore what you and lip had was more than the sex. and it was. you weren't lying about that. but my god, the crave for his skin against yours was unbearable. flashes of your hookups projected over your head. the moans that erupted from you while you tugged on his blonde curls for dear life as he pounded into your weeping cunt—you missed all of it.

"i can't believe you even showed up here," you muttered, using the pads of your fingertips to shove lip onto the soft mattress, silk sheets feeling cold against his back. he glared at you through furrowed brows, propping himself up on his elbows. but his expression softened when he saw you unbuttoning your jeans, zipping the fly down and hastily kicking them off.

"me? you—" he let out a shaky breath, gnawing at the inside of his mouth and sitting up right, "you haven't been out of the house for days."

he stared down at the white lacy underwear you wore, fighting the urge to get up and tear them down your ass until they fell at your ankles.

"and how the hell would you know that?"

you raised your eyebrows, signaling to lip to fall back again so you could reveal the aching bulge in his pants. that same bright smile of excitement made your stomach stir as you were unbuttoning and unzipping the denim that imprisoned his cock.

"been spyin' on you a little bit," he joked, but he wasn't totally kidding. for the past week and a half, he'd been taking 'shortcuts' to get to any destination just so he could briefly stop in front of your place. just to see if you'd ever come out and coincidentally run into him. he even started going to your usual hangout spots to see if you'd turn up.

but you never did. him even going to this party was solely based on the off chance that you might've been here. possibly with a new guy. but you weren't. you were alone. just like he often was.

"how sweet," you teased, tracing the tattoo on his chest. caving into your urges, you tilted your head lower to pet it with a kiss, your eyes closed before trailing your lips back up to his own. he huffed through his nose, laughing at your gesture. it was cute. you were cute. lips hands moved down to your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the waist band of your panties. that little puddle of arousal shining through the white fabric of your thong only egged lip on. he looked into your eyes for permission, not wasting any time to help you remove them the moment you nodded your head.

letting him pull them down the plush of your thighs, you turned just enough where you could slip them past your calf's where they pooled at your feet before finally slipping off onto the floor. a delicate hand reached to pull down the fabric of his boxers, his leaking, pink tip practically making you drool the moment his cock sprung out. the heat and humidity of the room making the thick vein down the side of his length twitch just the slightest. you felt a yearning heat build up in your core as you wiggled your hips closer.

"now," you reached between your thighs to coil your fingers round lip's hardening cock, "i need you to fuck me like you haven't gotten laid in a thousand years."

"that's pretty much what it's felt like." lip mumbled so quietly you barely caught it. he looked up at you, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before he used his thumb to caress your cheek.

"wait, you—you haven't been with anyone else?"

lip paused, realizing he admitted to not seeing a single other person since you broke up. it almost surprised you that you weren't the only one who was sex deprived.

"fuck would that do? bring you back?" he tried to laugh, accidentally gasping at the feeling of your wet cunt brushing past his throbbing dick. you noticed this, smiling back at him and slowly trying to position yourself perfectly.

"well, you have me now."

those words were all it took. with one swift motion, lip finally caught a grip on the fat of your hips, guiding you gently down his cock, your wetness making a makeshift lubricant.

"always so fuckin' wet for me," lip praised, smiling at the sight of how easily he filled you up to the brim of your cervix. watching your face contort from slight discomfort and into full bliss was his fucking kryptonite. you gasped, the immediate stuffed feeling hitting your stomach. lip winced at the tight sensation, already cursing under his raspy breath and whispering incoherent praises. "so—so fuckin' tigh...fu–ck" you gave him some time to adjust, propping your hands behind you so you could grind against him just right.

lip began rolling your hips back and forth, wet sounds of sex filling up the room. whimpers of "fuck, yes lip," and "just like that," only made his sexual frustration worse.

"'missed you so fuckin' much, baby. shit—you make me feel amazing. so, so fuckin' good." his hands dig deeper into your hips, making their way to your ass to squeeze and occasionally slap the flesh. you flinched with a moan, his dick hitting your gummy walls at a slightly different angle each time.

"m—fuck, missed you too, lip. you have no idea," your lungs begged for air, your tits bouncing slightly at the constant movement of your hips as you chased your high. you looked down at him, tears of arousal filling up your hooded eyes. lip marveled at the sight of your pleasure, inching closer and closer to cumming inside of you right then and there—but he had to savor this. grunting

how could he have waited this long to make amends with you? his groans felt like they practically echoed and bounced off of the walls. he needed to focus on your needs tonight. he pried between your crotchets, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing sloppy, rough circles against the bundle of nerves.

"slower, hun," you cooed, moving up and down his cock to keep his tip pounding right into your g-spot every time. the idea of staying quiet had never been this hard—but the music and shouting from downstairs was bound to cover for the two of you. lip nodded his head, slowing down his pace and gently grinding his hips into yours as his thumb remained at work.

after the few moments of pure bliss, moans and cries of lip's name coming from you that he wished would last an eternity, he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. similarly, you started forcefully catching your breath as you stared up at the ceiling. your head went foggy, every word that fell out of your mouth turning into messy gibberish. lip could tell you were close, but he wasn't quite ready to give up.

"i don't think i'm gonna last any longer," lip clenched his teeth, his hand aching from prioritizing your pleasure while his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. he'd been fucked out without even finishing a single time.

"me neither—"

desperately trying to get a hold of yourself, your body gave out. your thighs began to shake, your cunt contracting. trying to muffle your shrieks, you cupped a hand over your saliva-slick mouth. your hips moved as fast as you could ever dreamed was possible, forcing you to grab onto lip's shoulder blades for support. lip could literally see his dick rolling up and down your stomach as he moaned your name, his eyes screwed shut. finally, just at the very last second, he took every bit of strength left in his body to flip you over, your back pressed against the sheets while you reached your climax. he pulled out with a groan, white ropes of sticky cum coating your lower stomach and the space right under your tits.

makeup sex was not how you envisioned this night would go. but how could you complain?

[rarastmblr]

“I'll wait. I'll always wait.”

#Pairing? Teru Minamoto x FEM!Reader

#Sypnosis. Your boyfriend finds out you've been keeping a secret from him, how does he react?

#Tags. The overused trope of three (in this case, two) of the boy's fangirls bullying his girlfriend lmao, Akane Aoi and Aoi Akane is here‼️

—This post was requested by anon. Thank you for requesting! 💕 I don't think this is exactly how you wanted Teru to find out, so I apologize for that! 😅

When you had confessed to Teru you thought you would be rejected too, just like the girls who had poured their hearts out when they wrote their love letters for him.

You expected to have your heart broken as you prepared for the words that would shatter your heart as if it was just a fragile plate.

Getting rejected by the handsome prince isn't the worst that you expect; it was the sheer embarrassment that you'd have to deal with as you walk down the halls of the school.

You could only wonder what had happened to the girls that had gotten rejected by him, were they able to quickly move on?

Unfortunately, unlike them, you surely aren't someone who is able to handle rejection lightly, especially if it's from him.

But— Thank the heavens! The result was much more fruitful than you thought it would be. Pushing the negative thoughts of what people would think aside, Teru accepted your confession.

The both of you had agreed to keep the relationship on the low because Teru had many fangirls— and you know what would possibly happen if they found out.

Teru is worried about what would happen to you. Some girls are driven by love to the point they take it too far if they heard news about their crush having a significant other.

That's what led to this — apparently, a certain someone found out about your relationship between Teru and spread the news to the girls, particularly the ones who were known to be obsessed over him.

“Are you seriously Minamoto-senpai's girlfriend?” Kyoko doubted, right after hitting you multiple times earlier along with her best friend Mayu.

“Oh gosh, he must've been out of his mind!” Mayu snorted. No, their parents must've been out of their minds for giving them names that contradicted their personalities. Though, you suppose it wasn't their parents fault their daughters grew up to be bitches a pain in the neck.

“Minamoto-senpai is too good for you, y'know? He's like a prince charming and you..” Right after finishing her sentence, Mayu grimaced: showing a face of disgust. “Don't let the rumours get into your head..”

Well, that's true.. No. You weren't going to be gullible with all the stanky comments Mayu and Kyoko were throwing at you. But it still does bring some tears into your eyes — not enough for them to roll down your face though.

Oh come on, Teru had just comforted you over your insecurities 2 days ago and just plain words from two girls were already melting down the wall of confidence that Teru built up.

“Augh, come on.. is the crybaby gonna cry again? This is just a routine now” Kyoko sneered, annoyed at the routine she herself made. If she thought bullying you was such a chore then why doesn't she just stop? She might as well just be sadistic.

Crybaby. That was the nickname they gave you when they started this mess; ever since they noticed that you were awfully close with Teru. Way before you and him started dating.

You stood up. Well, at least tried to. The bruises Kyoko and Mayu left on your legs didn't really do you any good. Mayu had already beat you into pushing you against the wall before you could stand up.

Just as the two girls were gonna start berrating you again, a cough was heard from behind. The two turned around to see the one and only Akane Aoi. The two froze in fright, wondering what she was going to do.

Her petite figure walked up to the three of you, her indigo hair tied up into two circle sections behind her head as usual. Aoi stared at you with an expression Kyoko and Mayu couldn't read.

Kyoko and Mayu's next move proved that they were idiots. “Akane-san! The princess of the school! Wanna join us over here?” Kyoko suggested, earning a confused look from the indigo-haired girl.

“This little minx sitting on the dirty floor over here is supposedly dating the one and only Teru Minamoto. Could you believe how absurd that rumour is!? Especially since you and Minamoto-kun dated before..” Mayu babbled. Where did she get that information from? As far as you knew, Teru and Aoi never felt any romantic feelings towards each other. Akane would fume at the thought of that.

“What are you talking about?” Aoi looked like she was gonna burst at any moment, well, at least she looked like she was in your perspective. Because of Kyoko and Mayu not being one of Aoi's close friends, the two bullies in front of you wouldn't be able to relate with you being able to read Aoi and her expressions.

“I heard—” “Whatever you're gonna babble next, just shut up. This bathroom is already reeking because of the stank you and Kyoko are emitting. It'd stink more if you open your mouth again.” Aoi shut Mayu up, already fed up with the two girls in front of her.

“It's best you leave (name)-chan alone, unless you want this audio tape sent to the supreme student council office, where Minamoto-senpai would hear it.”

Hearing Teru's name and seeing Aoi shoving a videotape into their faces — repeating everything they said to you, the two girls quickly dashed out of the area.

It was just you and Aoi now. You stared at her as if she hung up the stars, bowing and thanking her profusely again and again for saving you from them. Aoi only crouched down and helped you to stand up. She then put your arm around her shoulder, guiding you as you two walk together towards the nurse's office.

The nurse's office wasn't far. Lucky day for you. It wasn't like you were dreading the time you were walking with Aoi anyway, while you were walking earlier, she had wiped off your tears and helped bring back a smile on your face. She joked about how the two girls didn't have any room to talk to you even — they literally are in the lowest ranks in the class when it comes to intelligence, while you and Aoi are in the top 10.

The nurse was generous (she always is) to have you excused to any of last the classes you had, and with Aoi's help, the teacher agreed to just sign you as ‘excused’.

When it was time to go home, the bruises on your legs have already healed a lot more than you expected. You thanked the nurse and grabbed your back (that Aoi dropped off earlier) so that you can head back home.

Unexpectedly, Aoi was there just as you opened the door of the nurse's office to leave. She said that she'd walk with you on the way home, as the both of your houses were close to each other.

“Where's Nene-chan?” You asked her.

“Hmm.. I don't know either. She's been spending a lot of time in the bathroom lately, do you think my story about Hanako-san took a toll on her?” Aoi responded. The thought of a ghost in the girl's bathroom sent chills down your spine — At least Hanako-san is a girl though, well, rumoured to be.

“AO-CHAN~!!” Ah, you knew that voice. Turning around in sync with Aoi, Akane walked up to you guys with a smile on his face. Though you felt like you were third wheeling..

A conversation started with Akane and Aoi as the three of you were walking. Akane invited himself to walk the both of you home (by both he definitely just meant Aoi, you didn't really care though).

Aoi didn't see a way to escape from this, the three of your houses were close and there wasn't an excuse she could make up except for “We're gonna have a girl's night. Only girls are allowed” and Akane would just unknowingly counter her by saying “I'm only walking with you until you arrive at your house, it'll be fine!”

The walk back home ended with Akane trying to have a long conversation with Aoi, only for it to be a short conversation. He'd try over and over again while you are just there; observing the two of them. Sometimes you'd often see Aoi's eyes light up more than they usually do, so you didn't bother to include yourself into their conversations.

Though, you really did want to ask what Aoi was going to be doing tomorrow. Tomorrow's Saturday after all, meaning no school to stress about.

*Audio file sent* ...What the hell?

Teru didn't know what to say or feel at the moment. He was just cooking for his siblings earlier right now and they are eating joyfully like a happy family. (Cue Kou excusing himself to go to the bathroom to barf)

A single audio file ruined his evening — even worse that what happened in the audio file had something to do with his girlfriend.

He messaged you, not to ask if the audio was real, he already had enough evidence. But to ask you if you were okay. You replied once he greeted you, but left him on read as soon as he typed the message: ‘Akane and Akane-san informed me about what happened to you today. Can we talk about it? Please?’ He spammed you with messages. He was worried.

After a while, his messages were left on sent. ‘..I'll be visiting you tomorrow.’ That was his last messaged before Teru had turned off his phone. As he looked up, expecting to see Kou and Tiara, he realized he was sthe only one sitting in the dinner table. Where did they go?

You were nervous. It was the crack of dawn and you checked to see Teru's messages again, only to be left frightened because of the news that he'll be visiting you.

No. It wasn't like your parents had any issues with your boyfriend or anything, they loved him. What you were nervous about was the inevitable conversation that is going to happen today.

You weren't very much of a productive person during the weekdays, so you opted to take a bath later instead of right now in the early morning. Not like Teru would mind anyway.

It wasn't long before 7:47 AM, exactly the time Teru arrived at the doorstep of your home. Your mom, though surprised that your boyfriend unexpectedly visited so early, welcomed him warmly.

Before your mom could lead him to the living room so he could sit down while she goes to your room to call for you, he already saw you taking a sneak peak of him from the stairs. Immediately, as if in a emergency, Teru excused himself and hurriedly walked upstairs to your room almost tripping halfway.

“..Young love~” You mother sighed in happiness for her daughter.

“I don't know, it kind of looks like they're gonna break up.” Your father broke your mom from her dream of you getting married to Teru.

“Don't say that!” She hissed at him, grabbing her slipper—

“Please let me in sweetheart,” Teru begged in a soft tone, not wanting to overwhelm you with everything that was happening.

You cracked the door open slightly. You saw him smile reassuringly. You then opened it enough for Teru to walk in, as Teru is finally inside he waited for you to close your door. He knew you liked it best when conversations between you and him were in private.

“You could've just called.. you didn't have to come here.” You told him, only to be countered by his next words.

“I knew you wouldn't reply anyway when you hear my voice from the phone.” Teru responded, only to get a playful hit from you.

“So..” The room was silent as you locked your door for privacy, fearing that one of you're parents would possibly walk in.

“How long has this bullying been going on for?” Teru asked as he walked closer to you, holding your hand in his and rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.

“..Way before you and I started dating.” You answered truthfully, it was better to speed up this conversation than to slower it down and tell lies.

At that, Teru froze. “Why didn't you tell me?” Almost immediately, Teru used his other hand (the one not holding yours) to wipe away the tears that were starting to brim in your eyes.

Teru knew you like he knew his own mind. He knew that you were getting overwhelmed and we're crying because of it. He could almost predict every move that you were gonna do.

Teru smiled at you softly, then gently held the back of your head. Sobs that came out of your mouth turned muffled as he gently pushed your face into his t-shirt. You wrapped your arms around him, feeling a sense of comfort.

“If you don't want to talk about it now, then that's okay. There's no use dwelling on the past.” Teru muttered as he kissed the top of your head. “I'll deal with those girls at school. You won't have anything to worry about.”

Teru continues to comfort you through your muffled sobs, you hear a series of “shh” and words of encouragement throughout the whole ordeal.

Teru tilted your head up to meat his eyes and wiped away any tears still on your face. Also, he used his shirt to wipe of your snot too — much to your embarrassment.

After that he peppered your face with kisses, resulting into the two of you cuddling in your bed the rest of the morning. But your mom called the two of you down stairs when she noticed you haven't eaten breakfast yet.

The rest of the day ended with Teru hanging out with you and your family. Teru invited you to go on a date tomorrow — his treat ofcourse (nothing changed, he was always the one who pays). Tiara decided to come along that day, not that you minded.

Sunday passed, and the walk to school with Aoi was peaceful if you just ignore Akane in the background. The bruises have healed, thanks to your mom and Teru. Dad was the one stressing over the many things he had to buy from the store and pharmacy.

“You look better now. Guessing the talk between you and Minamoto-senpai went well?” Aoi asked as the two of you were at the school gate. Akane got called by the other student council's to hurry up because of an urgent early meeting.

“It went very well.” I answered, giving her a thankful smile. “Thanks again, for protecting me that day..”

“No need.” The two of you walked towards the classroom. “Oh! Nene-chan is finally here!” Aoi chimed, delighted to see her friend. Her absence in classes made her seem like she went missing.

You followed Aoi as she went to converse with Nene. You also gave out some opinions and thoughts about the topic the three of you were conversing about, but only like once or six times since you really didn't know a lot about supernaturals.

The teacher finally arrived, students immediately went to go sit down on their seats. Akane was still busy with the student council meeting you suppose. But what was weird is Kyoko and Mayu not being there chattering, judging everyone in their field of view as if they had any room to talk.

[clydesavage-thefox147]

I don't think enough fanders are aware of this little piece of evidence, so I'm going to post about it. (Also pardon my nearly 2 months long hiatus, been mentally shitty)

Ever wondered why Janus has that pink blemish around his eye?

So, according to Joan in a past Livestream in late 2019, they confirmed that the pink was actually a scar. Yep. A scar. It makes sense since snakes and no other reptiles have that marking naturally. Apparently, it was added to make it more menacing and scary which honestly it did work at the time of his introduction, if you remember how scared people were of him then.

Initially, they weren't going to explain why he has the scar, since it would have been "too intense" to do so. To be fair, at the time it would have been, but now, do we really care how intense it could've happened? Also, I feel it's a bit messed up to make people with scars out to be intimidating, especially since that scar must've been a traumatic experience. I do think that they should go back on their statement and confirm that scar canonically in an understandable, less insulting way.

Now like I said in a previous post, I know Joan isn't much apart of the team anymore however, some of Joan's influence has still carried on in recent canon. Not to mention that Joan literally created Janus as a character. Another thing Joan did mention in their statement was that the scar..has a connection to the next side which is Orange. Which got me thinking-

Does that mean that Orange will be scarred too? Or..did Orange do it to him? Honestly, it does make sense. If you look at the pink hue enough, it does resemble that of a burn scar. Orange has been associated with that of fire.🔥

A character Janus has been connected to is Harvey Dent or Two Face due to Virgil's retort in Embarrassing Phases. According to the comics, Two Face is an ex lawyer who uses his studies in criminology and Law to commit his villainous crimes. He was chemically burned at a court trial, however some alternate versions suggest a more gruesome torture. And, it also happens to be on the same side of his body as Janus' scales and scar. This reference was made the episode right before SvS, where Janus was a lawyer. Definitely foreshadowing.

Another connection is to that of Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender. We know Thomas loves this series and the character is notable here for having a very similar burn scar on the same eye. Coincidence? I think not!

Now, if it is answered, was it truly Orange who did it? What if it was Remus? And was it on purpose or accident? With Remus, it's more likely to be an accident but Orange we have yet to know but it's more likely purposeful. Unless, Virgil caused it and that could be something he's guilty of but who knows. I just feel bad for Janus in the sense that his snake vision must already suck and then he was nearly blinded a second time? Damn man.

But yeah..that pink is a scar..from some injury..from someone...for some reason or motive. What do you think about this?

[ninii-winchester]

Unveiled Sorrows (Part 1)

Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 3k

Other Characters : Sam Winchester, John Winchester.

Warnings : spoilers for s1-5, heavy angst, canon violence, foul language, implied smut.

A/n: This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Bad luck follows the Winchesters like the plague, they can't seem to outrun it. If someone asked Y/n to describe who the Winchesters were to her, she'd only have one word to say. Family. She wouldn't mind having bad luck on her tail if it meant staying with her family. Besides even if they can't seem to outrun it, they always fought it. And they always kicked ass.

Y/n was a solo hunter, a badass one at that, she never believed in partnering up with other hunters, because every hunter has a different motive and motives change. She's never trusted a hunter and she never would but that all changed a few years back when she met the Winchesters.

Now, typically one would think she'd dropped her guard because its 'The Winchesters' but she didn't. It was far from that. She met the two brothers when they were looking for their father. She told them to not waste their breaths since the man didn't want to be found. The two boys were curious as to how she knew about their father. She told them that she knew the man enough to know his intentions and that is, he didn't want to be found. The boys were intrigued by her and asked her to join them, help them find their father.

"I don't chase dead ends boys nor do I trust hunters."

That was the last thing she said before she walked out on them. The next time they met was in Manning, Colorado, Y/n was hunting the same vampire nest that the Winchesters were.

“I see you found daddy dearest.” Y/n said leaning against the Impala after they cleaned out the nest.

"I see you've met my boys, Y/n." John smiled.

"Yeah well they've been all over the place looking for you, kinda hard to miss." She smirked. Dean chuckled at her comment.

"You're a great hunter." Sam commented, a small smile gracing his lips. She nodded her head and she raised her beer bottle towards him.

"Alright, now my works done here so I'll be heading out." She said. "Later boys."

"Wait." Y/n turned to the owner of the voice. "I need your help."

"Did I hear it correctly? John Winchester asking for help I must've gotten hit pretty hard." She laughed. "What is it?"

"I need you to stay with them. We need all the help we could get." John said. "You're one of the best I know." Dean's brows furrowed at that, his dad complementing someone is big.

"And what makes you think I'd stay and help? I don't trust hunters. As if you didn't know that already. John." She gritted her teeth.

"I know but it's out there and you know it." John said knowingly. His sons looked back and forth between their father and the young girl.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Y/n." She knew what he was talking about, the yellow eyed demon. The one that killed her parents when she was a baby. The fire in the nursery when she was exactly six months old. Just like Sam. The Winchesters are obsessed with the yellow eyed demon and they wouldn't stop at nothing to kill that thing.

"It has nothing to do with me." It was the second time she walked away from them.

The yellow eyed demon killed her parents, she had been chasing the demon for years, it's what that made her the great hunter she is, that's how she met John in the first place but now she knew getting revenge wouldn't bring her parents back, it wouldn't bring her peace either. She needs to move on and focus on whatever life she has left. It may sound weird for a twenty two year old girl but that's how she thought.

But as if it was destiny. Y/n watched a truck crash into the same Impala she leaned on a few days back. She jumped out of her own car before calling 911.

"Damn it you boys." She slammed the car door as she got back in her car and followed the ambulance back to the hospital.

After John died, she decided she'd stick around Sam and Dean considering it their father's last wish. And the rest was history. If you'd ask her she wouldn't be able to tell when Sam Winchester became her best friend in the whole world. It might've been the fact that they share the same trauma or maybe that Sam compensated for Dean being a dick. Dean didn't like Y/n joining them, he didn't hate her per se, but he hated the fact that his father asked her to help them rather than telling them what he knew. They butted heads alot, both being stubborn and filled to brim with trust issues. They had a hard time around each. It took a while but they warmed up to each other.

Now for Y/n, the Winchester Brothers are her family. To them it's her. They've never hesitated to kill for one another and wouldn't hesitate to die either.

Sam and Y/n were deeply troubled when Dean started acting strange after a run in with a Djinn. Sam tried to coax it out of Dean but he remained unsuccessful.

"Hey, you." Y/n sat beside Dean as he tinkered with the Impala. He turned to look at her. "Mind telling me what's going on up there?" She gestured towards his head.

Dean froze for a second. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't tell her what the Djinn showed him. How was he supposed to tell her he saw her being his wife, them living the white picket fence life. The life he so desperately wanted yet couldn't have. She wouldn't understand. Nobody could. Even he couldn't understand why he saw her. Dean didn't love, as in committing in relationships. Dean loved, as in I would die for you but I'd never tell you that I love you.

"Nothing sweetheart, Its nothing." He smiled like he usually does. Y/n knew better than to push him. So she walked away.

The trio hunted down all sorts of supernatural beings. They stuck through everything together. Y/n was there when Dean stupidly made a deal to bring back Sam, she was there when the doors of Hell opened. She stuck by Sam when Dean was dragged to Hell. She even went up to the crossroads to sell her soul in exchange of Dean's. Clearly she was refused. When Dean came back from Hell, Sam and Y/n welcomed him back with open arms.

Everything was awful. It sucked but alteast they were in this together. They had each other and that's what all they needed. Y/n was there when they found out Dean broke the first seal in Hell and she was there when Sam broke the last. Y/n was there for the Winchesters when the apocalypse hit and she had hoped they would be together when it ends. They had been trough Hell and back together, literally, and she hoped her family would be by her side. But little did she know.

Dean hasn't been the same ever since he came back from Hell. Everyone noticed. He hadn't been sleeping, he kept drinking. He kept telling everyone that he doesn't remember what happened down in the pit. But he does, and little does he know, Y/n knew too. She could see it on his face that something is eating him away but she knew Dean, and she knew it would be a waste to ask because he wouldn't tell. She'd hear him scream at night, waking up from nightmares, she'd watch him drink himself to self to sleep only to be woken up by the nightmares, again.

The trio had turns sharing rooms while being on hunts, with whatever money they had they could only afford one room but when they could get two, they would. Y/n always shared with one of the boys since they don't want to risk her safety, clearly knowing she can handle herself but it helps them sleep at night.

"You know you can talk to me about anything right?" Y/n walked up to Dean as he poured himself another glass of whiskey.

"Sweetheart its 3am. What're you doing up late?" He ignored her comment.

"I could ask you the same thing." She shrugged.

"Its.." he started.

"Nothing." She finished for him. "I've heard it."

The two of them sat in silence as the clock ticked. Dean stood up from the the chair he was sitting on and made his way towards his bed. He dropped on it with a sigh.

"Dean." Y/n called out and he turned his face to look at her. "You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. It's not your responsibility." She said softly.

"Isn't it though?" He asked sitting up.

"It isn't." She said firmly.

"You don't even have half the idea...-"

"Then tell me. Tell me what's bothering you, tell me we can get through this together." Dean shook his head at her words. "Like we always do."

"I started a goddamn apocalypse Y/n, I don't think there's anyone else to blame. Sam may have broken the last seal but I broke the first one. I..." Tears gathered in his eyes which made Y/n scared, if it was bad enough to make Dean cry, it was bad. She made her way towards her bed and sat infront of him.

"I know you broke the first seal Dean. You keep saying so but you never tell us what is it."

"Dean."

"They offered me to....they said they'd take me off the rack if i did the torturing. Time works differently there than here, for you it was four months but there it was forty years. They'd cut me up to nothing and then I'd be whole again and it'd start all over again. I held on for thirty years. But then I broke. I agreed and i did. And the most fucked up part is that I enjoyed doing it."

"It's okay Dean." She went to sit beside him and held him close. "You tried you best, you held on for thirty years Dean." She held back her own tears. "It's not your fault. If anything, I should be blamed equally for letting Sam fall for Ruby's trap. I should've been careful."

"No you're wrong if only I hadn't been so weak, if only i didn't break." He shook his head. "It was the first seal, a righteous man shedding blood in hell. I broke the first seal." He cried. She held him close hoping she could make him realise that it wasn't his fault.

"Now the refusal makes sense." Y/n mumbled under her breath.

"What refusal?" Dean sat up and stared down at her.

"Nothing." She avoided looking at him.

"Y/n." He said calmly but his tone was stern. "Tell me." Y/n looked away completely as she stood and turned away so she didn't have to look at him. "For the love of God tell me Y/n don't test my patience."

"I went to the crossroads demons but they refused. They said they had you exactly where they wanted, I didn't why back then, but now it makes sense."

"You did what?" Dean yelled and grabbed her arm to make her look at him. "You tried to sell your soul?"

"Dean."

"Don't Dean me.!! God damn it." He yelled and Y/n wondered how the hell Sam didn't hear them for the thin motel walls.

"Yes i tried to sell my soul so what huh? You're not the only one who cares okay? I wouldn't have minded giving my soul to bring you back." She yelled back.

"You can't go around doing stupid shit like that." Dean exclaimed clearly on the verge of losing his mind.

"Why do you get to deci-..."

"Because I can't lose you." Dean snapped cutting her mid sentence. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer. He cupped her cheeks in his hands. "I can't lose you, sweetheart. I'd happily go back to hell if it means keeping you safe." He said resting his forehead on hers.

"Dean..."

"Please, promise me you won't pull another stunt like that. I can bear those scratches and cuts on you from hunts but this is where i draw the line."

"Dean this isn't fair." She cried.

"There's nothing fair in this life, sweetheart. I've got angels on my ass asking me to say yes to being another angel's bitch. Do you think that's fair?" He chuckled a bit. Y/n shook her head. "Cmon darling, I'm waiting on that promise."

"I promise I won't try to sell my soul. But that's it."

"I can work with that." Dean looked at her teary eyed face as she looked up at him. "If you keep looking at me like that, my resolve will break." He said huskily.

"What're you talking abo-.."

"I really can't take this anymore." Dean mumbled before smashing his lips against hers. He knew he shouldn't have done that, he blamed the alcohol in his system, he tried to pull away as soon his brain registered what he had done but she snaked her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

His hands immediately went to her waist and picked her up. He gently laid her on one of the beds and hovered above her.

"Please stop me right now or I won't be able to." He murmured against her neck, as he placed soft kisses against her skin.

"I don't want you to." Y/n pulled him up for another kiss. She tugged at his tshirt which he gladly removed. Their clothes were thrown around haphazardly. The two of them continued to bask in pleasure and euphoria as the night progressed they ended up falling asleep in each others arms.

The sun shone through the window of the motel room. Dean had woken up from his slumber as he felt Y/n stir in her sleep. He looked at her sleeping figure and smile appeared on his face. The ringing of a phone made Y/n open her eyes.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Dean pecked her lips and grabbed his phone from the nightstand.

"Morning." She snuggled closer to him.

"Sammy." He answered the phone. "Yeah, uh huh... yeah no, she's still sleeping.." He waited for Sam to finish speaking. "Alright see ya."

"Remind me again, why're we here?" Y/n yawned sitting up, clutching the sheets to hear chest.

"Here as in my bed or here as in this town." Dean grinned as he pulled her into his chest. Leaving kisses on her neck.

"Dean.."

"Well Sammy thinks this girl killing another girl in a school bathroom is our kinda gig. He called to ask if you wanted to tag along to the mental hospital for interrogation i told him you're asleep."

"I see. Breakfast?" She turned to look at him.

"Sure sweetheart." He caressed her cheek. "Shower together? You know it'd save time." He smirked.

She rolled her eyes and went inside the bathroom but she didn't close the door. Dean understood and immediately joined her. To no one's surprise, they just showered together. Dean might've stolen a kiss here and there but that was it.

After shower the two of them got ready and met up with Sam. Y/n sat in the backseat of the Impala as they waited for Sam. As Sam told them what he found out Y/n spoke,

"I don't know if this is our thing Sammy, high schools can be brutal."

"You sound like Dean." Sam retorted.

"You're calling me dumb Sammy?" Y/n fake gasped.

"Sweetheart I'm offended!" Dean feigned hurt.

"Shut your trap you two. Im telling you she said she felt like she was possessed."

"Fine." Y/n groaned and they decided to check out the school.

Truman High School.

"Didn't you say you two went here for a while?" Y/n said as they walked down the hallway.

"A week." Dean replied.

"Reminiscing huh." Y/n teased nudging Sam with her shoulder and he rolled his eyes.

It did turn out be their kind of thing. First they found it was Sam's friend's spirit that was haunting the halls of the high school. After Salt and burning his bones they found out that Sam's friend's bully was messing around too.

"You just had to surround yourself with shitheads didn't you.!" Y/n exclaimed to Sam as they tried to find the piece of hair that kept Dirk's spirit connected to this world.

"I do keep you around so.." Sam shrugged with his famous bitch face making Dean laugh. 

Dirks spirit appeared at and lunged at Y/n who was standing the gate of the bus. He grabbed her in a chokehold while she tried to elbow him. Sam immediately shot him with his shotgun making him disappear but he appeared again. He grabbed Y/n by the arm and threw her at the nearest tree, knocking her out cold.

While Sam tried to wrestle the spirit Dean found the hair, burning it making the ghost disappear.

"Y/n." The two boys rushed to her side and helped her up.

"Hey hey...sweetheart you hear me?." Dean patted her face.

"Im alright." She wheezed before sitting up. "Son of a bitch." She groaned. "Is he gone?"

"For good." Sam replied.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @queensilber

[str4ngr]

was it worth it? [ sae itoshi ]

cw: not proofread, angst, foul language, break up, kinda sae focused, regret, desperate ex. notes: i might... key word might, make this a mini series bc i lowkey love this angst. pt. one

paparazzi was so damn annoying. his brows furrowed as more lights flickered across his face, clicking echoing through the night street like an open symphony as he rushed to his car, men in black forcing a path.

the cameras didn't stop even after the loud sound of the door shutting, the engine rolling as his driver took off to his apartment. within moments, the clicks faded into squabbling and shouting, before it became only the turn signal of the car. it was quiet again.

it was always quiet.

when you first left the apartment, the struggle against your sadness evident on your face, it was quiet. for the first time in a long time. there was only one set of shoes at the door. well, it's been like that for about a month now. he wondered if you've been tying your shoes. guilt tripped in his hear as he quickly shook his head, brushing away the softening memory.

when he stepped past the entry way, the quietness was piercing. he missed the noise of someone else in his kitchen, humming a song without a melody. he missed the buzz of the t.v., playing a show he wasn't particularly a fan of though you were.

sae's hands balled into fists at his sides, flat eyes glaring down at the navy couch in his living room. it was an l-shaped couch with plush, soft cushions and plenty of throw pillows. the seat in the corner was a bit less round, dipped and worn. it must've been a comfortable spot.

feeling as though he was acknowledging too much, sae's mind shut off, mechanically moving through his kitchen, dumping the pre-prepped dinner from his fridge into the pan. as heat sizzled through the thawing rice, his mind began to wander again.

"i don't need your luck."

he did. his stomach churned, and suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore, a strange lump in his throat, an unshakeable tremble in his hand, a burning in the waterline of his eyes. his jaw fell open, saliva pooling on his tongue, desperate to utter your name,

"i needed it. i needed your luck."

sae was speaking to no one and he knew it. his voice an echo in the hollow apartment, absent of you. the dip in the couch, too much space on the entry landing, no random recipes to welcome him home. regret swallowed him like a whale, unable to consume him, yet not pushing him far enough away to do anything but get swallowed up again.

a bitter scent filled the air, and sae scrambled to stir the fried rice around in the too-hot pan, huffing in irritation. he tried to play off his symptoms of sadness, though there was no reason anyone would struggle to diagnose him. his brows furrowed as he stared at the rice, mindlessly mixing the grain and finally lowering the heat.

his gaze flattened again, focused on what wasnt there. sae was curious, he hadnt used instagram in a long time. turning off the heat after learning from his previous mistake, his grabs his phone, pressing his finger to the lock and opening up the app he usually allowed his managers to-as their job entails-manage. the first thing he noticed was the absolutely abysmal amount of comments that arrived in the notification tab. he didnt bother opening it. instead, he opened his chats, and didnt find what he was looking for.

it made sae smile that you didnt message him, maybe you remembered how he always said he doesnt use his instagram. sae's expression falls at the next thought: maybe its because you hurt you too badly that night.

he searches through his following, heart sinking to see that he's no longer following you. stupid managers. "shit," he huffs, wanting to snap the brick of metal, instead angrily scrolling through his followers to find, "...still?"

sae scoffed, furious. angry for you, because why did you still follow him? why did you still look at all his posts? like all his posts? did- "what was that fucking doing for you?" sae walked away from what was supposed to be his dinner, huffing again as he sat on the couch. why couldn't you have unfollowed him? now, his finger trembled over your account, fighting with himself on whether he presses it or not.

air balls up into a lump in his throat. he remembered all the times you posted him, stupid little dates or when he won a game. he remembered the post for your first anniversary the most. you were so beautiful, so happy, your cheeks flushed with blood as the two of you sat in the restaurant that was also your first date. he remembered how he fought--and lost--when he tried not to be so boisterous that night, failing to resist your charm as the two of you laughed together on the couch, surrounded by each others warmth. cheesy. he smiled to himself at the word, trying not to acknowledge the way his eyes began to burn again, or how his lungs felt like they were sinking, or how hard it felt to breathe.

slamming his phone on the coffee table, sae keels over, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, palms digging into his eyes. it hurts. oh it fucking hurts. he feels his shoulders shake with each breath, his palms sweating, his eyes burning, his ears ringing, his pulse in his skull. he messed up. he messed up so much.

he needed your luck. he needed you.

notes: pt.3?

[idiotmf]

Could you please do amab version of your last fic? 🥺

Of course I can, anon, here you go!! I made some minor changes.🥰

This is the amab version of this post where Reader gets railed by a ghost.

NSFW, Minors DNI

TW: Dub-con

When your grandma left you a house after she passed, you assumed your troubles would finally be over, and for a while, they were. When you moved in, things were amazing. You didn't have to worry about rent anymore, and the utilities were surprisingly cheap. It's like you hit the jackpot, finally able to live with a few less worries.

Obviously, when you weren't working or hanging out with the odd friend that came over, you spent your time at home, keeping yourself occupied, mostly by either watching something, playing something, or masturbating out of boredom.

Things continued like that for a while, until you found a rather cryptic note from your late grandma that explained in unnecessary detail how there was a ghost living in the house. She strictly referred to the ghost as "him" and mentioned he was fairly friendly, unless provoked, and even then he would only play pranks on you.

Being the rational person that you are, you chalked it up to grandma being senile and that she was just keeping herself entertained since she lived in the house all alone. It would have been fine if that's where it stopped.

One night, your old friend came over, and you did your usual routine of watching something, and then halfway through, you ended up fucking. That's where it really all began.

The next morning, things were on the ground, not like someone had ransacked the place, but it was noticeable enough, though of course you thought it must've been just your old friend who had knocked some stuff over while leaving in a hurry. When you went to bend over to pick some things up, you could feel something grabbing your ass, and without hesitation, you turned around, only to be faced with nothing. Maybe you were going crazy, you thought; it wasn't an awfully strong grip, so maybe it was something your body did.

This excuse became increasingly less effective as time went on. You felt hands everywhere and at the worst times. Caressing your arms and legs, tracing your stomach and back. Eventually it got to the point where you could feel a hand slipping into your pants, playing with your dick. Of course, you were scared at first. Something was clearly there, and it reminded you of the letter your grandma left you.

You began shouting at the ghost. Telling it to stop fucking around and leave you alone. However, the ghost didn't really care; you broke his one rule that he had agreed on with your grandma, and even if you didn't know, he was going to punish you. How dare you bring another man into his house and have the audacity to fuck him?

His touching escalated the more you allowed him. Eventually you noticed a mouth and a wet tongue licking your neck, circling and sucking your nipples. It seemed strange, considering you were usually clothed when this happened, yet it felt like it was touching your skin directly. The licking felt nothing like what your old friend would do, although in truth the sex with him wasn't all that good and really just a way to get fucked every once in a while.

Before you knew it, multiple hands were all over you, joined by at least three tongues licking you. This made no sense; you wondered if there were multiple ghosts. It became increasingly difficult to even find the logic in this when you were constantly being groped and licked. One tongue had found its permanent place on your sensitive tip, licking and sucking it with every move you made; one was carelessly sucking on one of your nipples, alternating with one hand that usually played with the other one. The third mouth seemed to like making out with you, its tongue constantly shoved in your mouth, wrestling yours.

Despite feeling all these ministrations as if they were real, when you looked at your reflection, there was nothing there. Your mouth was gaping, but nothing was in it; your underwear soaked beyond belief most of the time due to pre-cum, yet nothing seemed to be there. But truly, the worst part about it all was that it wouldn't let you finish. Whenever you were just about to cum, the mouth disappeared before continuing its torture. It took about two days before you couldn't take it anymore, pleading with the ghost to let you cum. It didn't listen, though it did use more hands to restrict you when you went to touch yourself before shoving something inside of your puckered hole.

It wasn't much of a sensation, and you felt it curl, so you naturally assumed it was the finger of another hand. “Please,” you began whimpering every other minute, your tone getting more needy with every ruined orgasm that he put you through as minutes began to feel like hours.

“I'll do anything,” you finally managed to choke out through tears as he played with your twitching dick for what you could only register as an eternity again, bent over the kitchen counter, legs held apart, wrists gripped tightly by the ghost. For a moment, there was nothing but stillness; all the mouths stopped what they were doing, and most of the hands disappeared too, except the ones keeping you in place.

“Anything?” A shiver ran down your spine as you heard the noise that you assumed to be the ghost's voice. It sounded distant and more like the wind howling than a human voice, yet you knew immediately who it was. You nodded, the tears running down your face falling onto the kitchen counter, your twitching cock trying to feel any sort of stimulation now that the mouths and hands were gone.

“Yes, anything.” The words came out before you could even attempt to stop them, accompanied by a howling sound, which made you wonder whether it was meant to be a laugh or not.

Another few moments passed before a loud noise forced itself out of your mouth at the sensation of something stretching you open. It was long and thick, covered in strange bumps, providing nothing but the most torturous pleasure as it thrust into your hungry hole at a punishing pace.

Despite your mind still questioning whether this was okay and logical, your body was writhing against the kitchen counter, hands still held still by him, your legs forced apart as he fucked you from behind. No matter how much you attempted to stop it from happening, desperate, high-pitched mewling sounds escaped your lips at a rapid rate as you felt another orgasm approach, hoping this would be the one to finally let you cum after two days of torture.

“What a willing little slut,” the ghost taunted with his howling voice, making him sound distant yet all around you at once. The insults made you mewl louder; something about being used like this by a ghost made your ass clench harder.

In a small moment of defiance, you glanced back at what might be behind you, but just as expected, there was nothing. Despite your hole being stretched to an almost painful level, gaping around air, no figure was there to account for it.

Just as your orgasm threatened to spill over, something was shoved into your mouth, making your jaw hurt, before it found its way down your throat, drowning out your mewls and desperate groans.

“Be quiet, whore. I'm not done with you yet.” With those words, your eyes fluttered closed as you let this torture continue for another minute or two, ass and throat both stuffed full with invisible cocks, bigger than any human's you've ever had. The thought alone was enough to trigger your orgasm, finally sending you over that sweet edge with a loud groan that only came out as a hum, cum spilling against the drawers of your counter. Your body went limp from the impact, and you saw stars in front of your eyes, the ghost holding you up by your wrists as if it were nothing.

Without a word or even a moment to spare, he kept slamming into you, the bumps rubbing against your insides, making you feel like you were stuck in a never-ending orgasm for a moment before it did finally subside, though you could feel the cocks twitch, their movements becoming more erratic and aggressive. You tried to say something, but your throat was simply too stuffed to make any worthwhile noise.

Suddenly, you felt a hot sensation in both of your holes, almost making you gag and cry in pain, as the sheer amount of ectoplasmic seed forced its way into your body and down your throat, spilling back into your mouth, even running down your chin. Before you could fully register what happened, you were dropped, the ghost probably leaving you to deal with the aftermath. As you lay there, the sheer amount of mixed cum almost formed a small puddle on the ground, your fucked-out hole leaking more as you desperately tried to swallow the remnants in your mouth.

[spxllcxstxr]

Kintsugi • K.R

(Gif not mine)

Request: Pls pls I need Kendall x young reader wife with a kid living in a remote place away from all the post waystar drama — anon

Summary: Six months later, Kendall still believes he's broken

Warnings: fem!reader (referred to as girl and mommy), usage of mommy and daddy but in pure parental terms, you have an unnamed daughter, rehab mention, kendall takes meds and goes to therapy now, past suicide implication/mention?, normal ken stuff, spoilers for the end of succession

Word Count: 1.2k (I didn't think it was gunna be this long lmao)

A.N: this was a little angsty im not gunna lie lmao, I’m going feral over this request—I just want Ken to be HAPPY, not enough happy Kendall gifs, also i am not entirely great with writing modern bros so like sorry about the characterization? first kendall piece so if you have any tips let me know, hope you all enjoy!

Kintsugi - a Japanese art form that involves repairing broken pottery with gold

•

"Ken? Ken honey do you want to join us at the beach today?" Your words cut through the painful silence of your master bedroom, shrouded in darkness despite it being past noon.

Kendall gives no indication that he heard you; no vague grunt or shift in movement. He just lays there--the blanket covering everything below his nose as his eyes stay closed. He isn't sleeping, you've been married to him long enough that his shuddering breaths and still as stone rigid posture was a poor attempt to convince you otherwise.

It’s like he thinks the blanket is the only thing holding him together. Like if he leaves that spot he’ll crumble to pieces right in front of you.

Your heart drops just looking at him. Being away from the city had obviously done some good, along with his month long visit to rehab, but Ken was still…healing.

You kiss his forehead before leaving, telling your disappointed daughter that daddy wouldn't be joining you today.

"It's one of daddy's bad days?" She asks once you feet hit the sand. Her childish voice laced with her innocence almost makes you tear up.

"It is, sweetie..." You nod, before quickly distracting her with placing your towels down and bringing out water bottles from her little pink lunchbox.

The ocean is what occupies her little body for the first hour or so. She jumps over the little waves and collects sea shells. Like what any parent would do, you snap photos of her with the biggest grin on her face.

Eventually, though, the two of you end up in the sand, using her plastic bucket and shovel to build a castle fit for a queen. She's actually not half bad, you notice, as the usual clumsy movements of a toddler are no longer present when she details her sandcastle.

“How’re my girls?”

You look up from the sand beneath your fingers to see your husband, clad in shorts and t-shirt.

“Daddy!” Your daughter shrieks, practically stomping all over the sandcastle the two of you were working on to get to Kendall.

She hugs his knees, squeezing them between her little arms, and he crouches down to hug her back.

Your husband smiles and it’s enough to convince your daughter—but not you.

He's tired, you notice; though it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. At just a glance it looks as if your husband has aged 50 years in six months. His eyes are sunken, not mention the dullness of his usually bright brown eyes. Kendall's normally sun-kissed skin now a deathly grey, which makes sense, he has barely left your bedroom much less the house. It’s almost as if someone had taken a spoon and hollowed out everything that made him human. Frown lines are etched into his face, your heart almost shatters at the overpowering aura of sadness and despair surrounding him.

Six months isn't enough time to wash away the years at Waystar.

You smile at him as your daughter takes his hand and drags him to the crumbling sandcastle.

Once he sits down he kisses you, placing a large hand on the side on your face. You taste the mint of the mouthwash he must've just used before his trek down here. Kissing Kendall was addicting, it always was, but with your daughter's groan of disgust you slowly pull away from him.

"Oh don't be like that kiddo, that's just what mommies and daddies do when they're in love." Kendall teases, ruffling her hair in the process.

She sticks her tongue out before turning her attention back on the ruins of the castle in front of her. Instead of crying about the state of it, she happily starts rebuilding with the help of you and Ken.

One eye never leaves his figure.

This sort of mood swing isn’t uncommon, for years you’ve experienced Kendall’s drastic moods, but this certainly wasn’t one of his highs.

The sandcastle slowly morphs into a sandkingdom; once she starts she never wants to stop. That is, until your daughter finally gets tired after the sun sets and she curls into Kendall’s lap.

You know you should get back to the house, it’s late, but it’s just too peaceful out here, alone on the beach.

Careful not to stir the little girl in his lap, Kendell leans his head on your shoulder, shifting closer to your warm figure. The stars flicker above you--a sight you almost never saw in the city. You take a deep breath before kissing your husband's recently buzzed head. Kendall hums, nuzzling even closer into you, like he was trying to burrow underneath your skin so you never had to leave him.

"I love you, Kendall. And we're ok." You whisper, the words getting eaten by the crashing waves just feet away from the two of you. Still, he hears you, you can tell by the sniffle against your shirt. Your daughter groans in her sleep, shifting.

He swallows roughly at your words.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/n)…I fucked it.” Ken chokes out quietly, trying not to disturb the child. “I fucked it and I’m broken.”

His tears seep into your shirt. You angle your head down, your nose brushing against the top of his head.

"Oh Ken honey..." Your own lip wobbles at your husband's vulnerability. "You're not broken...you were never broken..."

"Then I'm--I'm fucking cracked, (Y/n)! I'm just not whole anymore! I don’t know if I ever was!"

Thoughts race through your head. Kendall had been doing better. He was consistent with taking his meds and he went to therapy every week. What if he tried to--? You clutch him closer to you, trying not to make yourself spiral when Kendall needed you.

His body shakes with silent sobs, your daughter still peacefully sleeping, unaware of the world around her.

The cool ocean breeze dances across your skin. You take a deep breath.

"Have you ever heard of kintsugi, Ken?"

"What? I'm having a complete breakdown and you're asking me about whatever the fuck that is?" He huffs, annoyed.

"Just listen to me Ken, it'll go somewhere." You kiss the top of his head to comfort his suddenly tense figure beside you. He eases at the contact. "I read in some stupid magazine that it's a Japanese technique where they repaired broken pots and stuff with gold." Kendall lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are red with unshed tears and his eyebrows are furrowed, listening to you. "They were made whole again; made more beautiful and were stronger than before."

Kendall purses his lips as you bring a hand up to stroke his tear stained cheek. Your other hand lightly strokes through your daughter's hair, careful not to rouse her.

"We'll be your gold, Kendall."

All at once the tension leaves his body, tears cascading down his face. His once dimly lit eyes brighten to reflect the stars above.

"Right," He nods, almost like he doesn't know how to respond to what you just said. "My gold..." His eyes flick between you and your daughter before his head settles back onto your shoulder, almost as if he couldn't take anymore emotions for the day.

You sigh, leaning your own head against his. Closing your eyes, you let the sound of the waves wash over the otherwise silent night.

The stars still shine above you and the saltiness of the ocean tinges the air.

You were all going to be alright.

•